Another mystery solved

Some of you may remember that a few months ago I threw out my lower back and started treatments (acupuncture, massage and chiropractic) at my health plan's spa Natural Medicine Center.  I don't really know how I injured my back, but Zahava has always insisted that the problem started immediately after a training exercise for our town's emergency response team.  Seeing as I am a virile, manly, especially rugged specimen of the XY chromosome club... I begged to differ.

Last week I had my last treatment, and am delighted to tell you that I have been an upright-walking homo sapien (not that there's anything wrong with that), and virtually pain-free for several weeks now!  I'll admit that I won't miss being used as a pin-cushion... but I could get used to having a lunchtime massage a couple of times a week!

Anyway, last night I was stretched out on the couch at about 10:45... reading the last chapter of 'The chamber of Secrets'  if you must know... and thinking how nice it would be to get to bed at a decent hour... when the radio for the emergency response team gives off a loud beep, followed by the following announcement:

"All members of the kitot konenut (emergency response teams) respond... this is not a drill... we have a confirmed report of two non-residents moving towards Efrat from the direction of Wadi Nis (one of the neighboring Arab villages)...  proceed immediately to the area between **** and **** and await instructions from your individual team leaders... I repeat this is not a drill."

As the message was repeated several more times I found myself magically downstairs pulling on heavy, ill-fitting equipment that had fit so comfortably during the many drills and exercises we've had.  As I rooted around for the extra magazines of ammunition and unlocked the cabinet with my M16 I finally noticed through the river of sweat running into my eyes that Zahava had come out of our office and was staring at me with her mouth hanging open and her eyes as big as saucers.

She hadn't heard the full message and asked if it was an unscheduled drill.  I explained that it wasn't... and gave her the scant bit of information I had... and fled the house.

What I didn't realize is that the crackling and beeping of the radio had woken up Gilad and he had looked out of his bedroom window in time to see me jog up the front walkway at almost 11:00 PM wearing a bullet-proof vest, helmet and carrying an M16.  I didn't find out until much later that as upset as Zahava might have been... Gilad was totally freaked.

The role (and effectiveness) of emergency response teams is a matter of much debate in many communities, but essentially their job is to respond to an immediate threat just long enough to allow the army to arrive.  In theory, we're like EMTs who are trained to keep a patient alive just long enough to get them in front of someone who actually knows how to fix whatever is wrong with them. 

We are armed and equipped by the army... our training is done on army bases by army personnel... and the majority of our members are reserve soldiers/officers.  But with all that... I don't know anyone who would argue that we are qualified to do anything more than 'hold the fort' for those critical first few minutes until the 'cavalry' arrives.

However, once we received instructions from our leaders and were deployed along the ravine where the 'non-residents' had been spotted... time began to stretch. 

It seems that in addition to the original report, there had also been a subsequent report by a resident that had seen two suspicious looking people in a nearby neighborhood.  My personal opinion is that someone had probably looked out their window and seen a couple of members of the emergency response team running down the street... but even though this new report virtually tripled the area that now needed to be searched, nobody was willing to take the chance of dismissing it.

Both the army and police arrived promptly and were also deployed... but because of the larger-than normal area that needed to be checked, we were told by our team leader (a reserve officer in an elite IDF unit) to remain and begin patrolling several specific areas. 

30 minutes turned into an hour... and still my partner and I went from place to place each time we received new instructions over the radio. 

The problem with all this patrolling is that all of our training has revolved around an event that, in a worst-case scenario, lasts no longer than 15 minutes. 

At almost 2 hours I was dripping with sweat and having trouble figuring out which part of my body hurt most! 

The equipment that we wear is perfectly doable for an old fart like me... for 15 minutes, that is.  But an ephod (combination ceramic body armor vest and ammunition/equipment holder) weighted down with 4 full magazines of extra bullets, a flashlight, a radio/phone, water bottle and various other junk... combined with a heavy Kevlar helmet and an equally heavy M16 (with two more magazines)... adds up to one tired, sore, sweaty old man!

At just under two hours we were given the all clear over the radio and told to go home.

It's not clear if there was an actual attempt to infiltrate the town or if a couple of the villagers were just out wandering around in a place they shouldn't have been and tripped some of the sensors.  It's also possible that the original alert could have been about thieves rather than terrorists... or that someone was simply checking to see how close they could come to the town without generating a response.

In any case, two hours after leaving the house I sloshed back in to find Zahava nearly frantic with worry. 

Apparently she had been hearing gunfire coming from outside and thought it had something to do with where I had gone.  There has been a lot of 'celebratory' gunfire from the neighboring Arab villages lately (I'm assuming it is related to the disengagement), and I don't really pay any attention to it.  But sitting at home alone, the sound of shooting freaked Zahava out something special.  I guess I should have called, huh?

Anyway, after going upstairs to give Gilad a kiss and to reassure him that nothing happened, I cleaned up and dove into bed.

And wattayaknow... I woke up this morning with my lower back in spasms of blinding pain! 

Great... so in addition to having to admit to myself that I'm so out of shape that I'll have to either come up with a real exercise plan or consider quitting the emergency response team... I now also have to admit to my wife (once again) that I was wrong and she was right.  My lower back problems are/were directly related to all the crap I have to carry when the emergency response team is called up.

Another mystery solved.