Thoughts of a soldier during a very long shmira (guard duty)...

[a guest post by Ariella]

Well I guess I should start at the beginning.

My name is Ariella Bogner. I was born in the US, and in 2003 when I was 9 years old, I moved with my family to an Israeli town called Efrat. I went to a high school in Jerusalem called Pelech, and after i graduated I did a year at a Pre-military Academy in the Jordan Valley called HaEmek. On july 18th I enlisted in the IDF. Five days later I celebrated a decade of living in this country.

As I mentioned, I have lived in Efrat (located south of Jerusalem in Gush Etzion) for the past ten years. Over that time I learned a lot about the history of the place. The battles fought and the lives lost trying to protect my home.

Where I live it is not unusual to see civilians with a weapon or a Palestinians walking nearby... and honestly, I think nothing of either. Another detail in the everyday view is the presence of soldiers. Whether its at the Machsom (check point), trempiadot (bus stop/hitch hiking place), or entrances to the yishuvim, they have always been there.

These are soldiers that came from all over the country to protect the place I love and call home.

And it is because of that, that we love these soldiers like family. There is no such thing as a soldier who is left without a place to eat on Shabbat, or doesn't get a snack or hot drink in the cold or even a cookie (shout out to the 'Cookies for the soldiers foundation') before Shabbat.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that as a kid, growing up here I always admired the soldiers. It's because of these soldiers that where I come from everyone enlists and is proud to do so. We aim for as high as we can go.

So I reported for duty on the 18th of July with a feeling of pride.

I am now four months into my service, a month away from finishing my sergeants course. One of the obligations of my course is that we do haganat yishuvim (protecting of settlements). It basically means that my unit splits up for a week between 15-20 yishuvim and guards them for a week. I ended up in a settlement in an area south of our home in the south Hebron hills.

I can't help thinking that I am here, in uniform, protecting the place I love and for the past ten years have called home. I can't think of a better way to thank all those soldiers who protected my family, friends and home. I can't possible thank you enough. But I'll try.

As my shift came to an end I walked by a school bus and the driver shouted "kol hacavod lachayelet shelanu!" (well done to our soldier) OUR soldier... a feeling of pride ran through me as a lump formed in my throat.

But then again, that's how we always felt about the soldiers stationed near our town. OUR soldiers... our kids, brothers, sisters, parents... whatever! That have always been ours.

And this time it was me.

Shabbat shalom!

 

 

Posted with Blogsy