Friday Night - Midnight @ the Muqata

This past Friday night, I went to bed around 10 PM. All the kids were asleep...for a change, and I crawled under the covers to go to sleep.

Blissfull sleep.

I could sleep for hours snuggled under a warm blanket. Granted, I can fall asleep standing up if need be or contorted into a pretzel in an economy airline seat. If there weren't pressing matters of responsibility, I could sleep for a week.

I'm deep in my sleep...when my motorola radio starts beeping at me at 12:04 AM.

"Jameel, Jameel, this is the "moked" (command center)..."

(Our IDF counter-terror unit is on call 24x7.)

Rolling out of bed, I see my beeper is buzzing as well, and I see that the IDF has spotted suspicious characters in the wadi below our settlement.

Throwing on my clothes -- my dark Shabbat pants are the quickest to put on, a dark blue sweatshirt, yesterday's socks, shoes, blue kippa (instead of my white Shabbat one)...I grab my pistol, walkie talkie, cellphone, beeper and I'm about to run out of my bedroom when my wife asks from her sleep what's going on. I tell her what my beeper said and run downstairs.

I used to get wistful about running out of the house; some write how they say good bye to their wives knowing they may not return. I think I'm past that; probably since its the middle of the night, and I have way too much on my mind.

Calling my command counterpart, he says he's on his way out to his car, and we agree I'll send out the beeper message to everyone, grab the first person I can from our unit, and start a patrol.

I just made a phone call on Shabbat.

Actually, it was already my second one, since I had spoken previously to the moked. I call the beeper company (third phone call) and send out a message that will also wake up a couple dozen people from their Friday night shabbat sleep.

Throwing on my bulletproof vest, I grab my M16, helmet, Vietnam-era army radio, signal flares, and mega flash-light -- I lug all this to my car. The car is ready before shabbat, to minimize "chilul Shabbat" (desecration of the Shabbat) -- the strobe light is already connected, the headlights will go on automatically when I start the car, the radio is off...and I start the car. Orange lights flashing, I pick up my friend from our unit, and we speed off towards the perimeter.

As I'm driving, my friend is talking on my car's motorola radio. Who's on-line, who is awake, who can be a lookout, who's available...and they reply one at a time. I admonish my friend that he needs to acknowledge each person who calls in, so they know we heard them. He says its Shabbat and we need to minimize chilul Shabbat...before I can reply we see part of the fence is slightly bent. I slow down, and notice the mud on the other side is untouched...no footprints or ladder marks anywhere -- must be an old "bend" in the fence.

Continuing to drive, I turn to my friend and say, "What's your problem with acknowledging someone on the radio on Shabbat -- he needs to know we heard him." My friend apologizes; he thought I meant to say "thank you" for calling in, not "acknowledgement", and he agrees with me.

1:35 AM

The Moked lets us know the army has called off the search. Its not crucial for me to know why they called everything off -- since its Shabbat. I send out a beeper message that all's clear, and drive my car back home. Shlep everything out of the car, make sure everything is ready in case I need to go out again. Quietly unlocking the door to my house, I put everything away and trudge upstairs, and flop down in bed.

Some people think I'm crazy for volunteering -- just as some think its crazy to live in a settlement...or even in Israel.

I do get alot of satisfaction from personally protecting my family and my yishuv...even if it's strange to drive on shabbat and talk on the phone...and even if it means less sleep.

Wherever I am, my blog turns towards Eretz Yisrael