Moments

The sunrise today is beautiful. We catch the first glimpse of it when we turn onto an eastern road right outside the base. It is about 6:30 and we've already been on our feet for two hours. There are still morning conversations about small stuff. As usual somebody is joking about the safety instructions that we always receive at the beginning of the trip. Jolly French in the back are attempting to drown everything out in songs. However, as soon as we see the big red ball pinned above the Kineret we stop for a moment and ask each other if what we see is real.
Few minutes later, as we twist down a mountain road my eyes are still glued to the sun. My concentration is broken when the bus dips below a hill and I search around for something to keep me interested for just the next few moments. I didn't get enough, I want to see more but I know that even the shortest break and I'll fall asleep. The seat is lulling me and I won't be able to resist it much longer. I look at the faces of familiar strangers that are my army family who already have succumbed to the cradle on wheels and I gaze out the other side of the bus. There - royal clouds are peeking over the magnificent hills of Upper Gallilee. Beautiful, beautiful country... I give up and close my eyes.

7:30am. Guard Station 10. The sky lazily lit up behind my back and everything is basking in the morning light. I don't have much longer of this solitude. In less than half an hour another tired soldier will take my place. Our week of guard duty is almost over and we've handled it well. In cold and in rain of December, in early mornings, dark nights or bright days, we are putting on our gear, taking helmets and three full magazines and letting our friends rest. We're continuing the nonstop relay that began in 1965 and will keep going on for generations.
Station 10 looks over one of the entrances to the base that should not be regularly used. My task is to make sure that there is no suspicious movement on it. Even though I know that nothing will happen here, I still don't take my eyes of the road. I am facing north with Zfat, Mt. Meron and Druze and Jewish villages in front of me. In the silence of the night I hear every single breath for miles. The lonely car tens of kilometers away seems to be passing right by me. A stray white dog that became a fixture at this station is curled up peacefully near my feet. Lucky her; she can sleep as much as she wants. These are the desperate moments when one struggles to put everything in perspective and not concentrate on useless questions. What am I doing here and does it even make a difference that I am? Why are my thoughts drifting into the past and why are the people that have no place in the present still chasing me? But what's in the present anyway and what's next? The wondering is broken up by a moment that makes everything worthwhile. Two birds with long necks and yellow stomachs sit down on a branch that's in a reach of my hand. Have I simply become a part of this landscape that I don't awake any fear is these creatures? I've never seen birds like these, especially this close and free. They sit around for a few minutes and then chirping fly away. This is going to be a good day.

Our formation is a usual ח with a double layer of soldiers in a square that's missing a side. In the opening is our commander speaking to the entire division. All of this is a scene that's repeated almost every morning and yet today, right now, everything is different. I have goosebumps and I'm basking in the feeling that I've been waiting to bathe in. Yes, once in a while there were glimpses of it. Like the first time I got to put on this uniform and walk out to the street; or when I was being sworn in with my gun in the right hand and Torah in the left; or even when I would crawl into my bunk tired from a midnight guard duty. But right now, in this moment, I am filled with pride. Pride for myself, pride for my friends, pride for my army, pride for my family and pride for my country. The flag is flying in front of the Western Wall. The wall that is a symbol of longing, history, pain, joy and hope. This wall is completing our formation, our square now. The commander tells us about feeling different in the place that we've all been countless times at because of the uniform. Her speech is short but to the point. Tourists and visitors are taking pictures and recording videos. We get an order for aTikva and over one hundred voices sing our national anthem. I am one voice that belongs to the nation.