I took part in Volunteers for Israel seven years ago, and I admit an initial attraction for me was wearing the uniform.
As a former tomboy, I liked the idea of sauntering around in jaunty military fatigues. I arrived at the Ashdod Naval Base after I’d lived in Israel for six months, taken classes at Hebrew University and worked on an archaeological dig.
My fluency in Hebrew extended no further than talk about my age and dogs, but after a week of working in the kitchen, I could hold my own in a discussion of vegetables.
As volunteers we painted, weeded, sliced and diced alongside soldiers who frequently wanted to be anywhere else but where they were. Theirs was a mixed reaction of appreciation and disbelief when we said we’d not only chosen to be there, but had paid the airfare for the privilege.
We had two lectures on the base. One of them described the logistics of Operation Solomon and Operation Moses, the airlifts of Ethiopian Jews to Israel. Random facts and bits of information are still with me — the transportation of 14,000 people in 36 hours, the decision to fly on Shabbat, the precise route over the Red Sea that did not violate airspace, putting colored dots on children’s foreheads to keep track of who they belonged to.
The highlight on my time on the base was giving blood. During my second week, there was a blood drive. And along with two other volunteers, I set up cots and chairs, laying out juice and cookies for the blood donors.
I’d never given blood before although I’d made a vow in college that I would, “at some point before I die.” (With my elusive veins, I had not had positive encounters with phlebotomists.)
I watched the soldiers I’d been working with roll up their sleeves, some wincing, some indifferent as they extended their arms. And I realized it was now or never if I was going to follow through on my commitment.
I walked back to the barracks, got my passport and gave myself a pep talk. When I came back, a group of soldiers had gathered around to keep me company. After it was over, a reservist told me that I had inspired him to give blood, too. And another soldier said, “We need more people in Israel like you.”