Firefighting on the Homefront

The feeling is halfway between anxiety and excitement. A nail biting thriller was about to unfold and whether my team was ready or not we were going in.

At a red light, the car parked next to ours honks and it’s passengers cheer and wave to us, as if we we are their town’s champion sports team. They roll down their window and toss bars of chocolate into the bed of our hummer where me and my three teammates thank them kindly before the light turns green and we continue down the road.

My friends look around at the landscape with fascination, taking in Southern Israel’s natural beauty. While I admire the sabra cacti I am more focused on the charred fields and burnt groves we drive by. Driving north along The Gazan border, the air has a stale burnt aroma. In the back of the hummer, my friends puff on hand rolled cigarettes to calm their nerves, the first of what would be many of the day.

We pass by familiar places: Kibbutzim Urim, Kissufim and Nachal Oz. Places I’ve come to learn well since moving to Israel’s south over a year ago. Places that my friends call home. Places few Israelis can recognise on a map and maybe have only heard of through the tzeva Adom app.

My smile grows wider and my heart beats faster as we pass by Sderot, an indicator we would be arriving shortly.

The platoon woke up at 5 am to prepare for the day, after breaking up into teams we were giving our stations, each team positioned in a different town along the gazan border. I learned one team was going to my kibbutz and I fought all morning to join them, eventually succeeding. A small accomplishment and indicator of the thicker Israeli skin I’m growing.

For this week of August, my platoon has been called into the the Otef Aza region to help provide support to the consistent fires being created from Hamas incinerary balloons. My platoon is still two months away from finishing our advanced training, yet we were called on to do a job and we arrived to deliver.

Our hummer turns off the highway and onto my Kibbutzs road. A mural has just been painted at this intersection honoring the life of a kibbutznik killed in a terror attack the following year. I explain to my friends the ten foot concrete wall we drive by is new and considered necessary after this attack.

My commander and driver aren’t sure how to get through our front gate, I laugh and jump down from the hummer punching in the code and letting my team in.

I greet my friends of the kibbutz and my host family. Two days before, two erez locals had a beautiful baby girl and I walk over to congratulate them.

I walk around Erez with pride. My first time here in my ב uniform and my first time with my rifle on my side. I proudly show off my home to my commander and friends, making them coffee and showing them the sights.

The atmosphere is light-hearted and jolly but truthfully we are on a mission, and shortly that reality became evident.

הקפסה!!!

My commander yells out from the driver seat, indicating us it’s time to roll.

Cigarettes are put out, helmets are dawned and we’re flying down the road in a matter of seconds. We leave my kibbutz’s front gate but instead of making our way to the highway we turn onto dirt roads and into open fields.

I see the smoke right away, it’s white puffy clouds look strong and robust, telling me we had a battle ahead of us. The dirt road we’re driving on eventually brings us parallel to the security fence, we pass by multiple combat teams in full gear.

The white smoke has filled the sky. As we arrive on scene I can discern multiple field fires and a small valley that has already been charred. I am comforted by the presence of the fire department, their vehicles have much great capabilities than ours.

The hummer pulls up alongside a field bursting with flame, my team gets working quickly attaching our hoses to our tank and attacking the fire. Thankfully the brush is small and the water douses the flames quickly. Other hummers join the fight and slowly the fires subside.

I run through the charred valley to aid another hummer in their fight against a tree that managed to catch fire. From this position, me and my friend Eilon spot a neerby hill smoking from its peak. Not wanting it to escalate, we make a quick ascent and arrive to the peak huffing and puffing and close to total exhaustion.

There were in fact many small fires on the peak and we worked together with our swatters to eradicate the fire.

We move quickly as to prevent the wind from catching the fire. In this fast pace, I overlook a small bush aflame and pay for it with a burn pant leg. At this point, I feel the exhaustion, fatigue and dehydration setting in. I continue to wack the fires but with less intensity and therefore I am less effective, we continue on in this lathargoc pace for what seems to be half an hour. Below us a few dozen acres of burnt field and valley.

Out of no where my commander appears. In a calm yet urgent voice he instructs us to lay on the ground, he then pulls me behind the cover of a small bush and instructs me to aim my rifle in a direction. I then understand the point. Our location was more or less on the border, from our viewpoint you could see well into Gaza. Looking through my scope from about 1,000 meters I clearly make out a guard post with someone standing within it. I wonder how well he could see me. I keep my aim on this position while Eilon and my commander descend the hill, then I book it the hell out of there with a newfound energy.

Shaken from the encounter with what presumably was Hamas, and fatigued from firefighting, I stumble back to my team and our hummer. I down 2 litres of water before I can get a word out.

The last of the fires were put out and our hummer sped off in search of a place to refill our water tank, in order to be prepared for the next fire. While it was unknown when or where it would occur it was guaranteed to happen.

At a rest stop, we descend the hummer and begin filling our water tank. I take a moment and gaze into the hummers mirror. Staring back at me an IDF soldier. He was covered with soot and ash and his clothes stuck to him from his sweat an indicator of his hardwork. His hands were bleeding from thorns which he didn’t feel and his pant leg had been burnt. While his body told one story, his face told another. The soldier beamed into the mirror, his teeth seeming so white juxtaposed to the ash covering his face. Beneath the fatigue in his eyes lay something else, something more powerful. A feeling of fulfillment, like the kind you get from succeeding a difficult goal.

I am where I am to serve, protect and give back to my home- I am exactly where I am supposed to be.