Chapter 85, (Rated R) New Direction
“I will get to your house tomorrow afternoon.” I promised Yafa – the girl I met in Nueba.
“Great, don’t bother bringing your guitar, I have two of them. “
Yafa was a pretty girl, soft curly blond, a little taller than me. She opened the door and let me in. Cookies and a soft drink made from sugar and fake taste of clementine were waiting for us in her room. I had a feeling she was disappointed that I was shorter, but I didn’t let it bother me. She pulled the guitars and a few music books. This time, she became the star. I was sitting there watching her and hearing her singing Hava Alberstein’s songs better than Hava Alberstein. I never liked her songs before. Yafa changed my mind. Unfortunately, I couldn’t follow much – Yafa was much better than me. she played cords I have never imagined existed. She also followed her music books which I couldn’t, I play by ear – can’t read music well. Needless to say, she was disappointed, and I felt like she was almost angry. I left her house a little humbled. She didn’t say it, but I knew I didn’t have to call her back. I still remember how she changed my mind about the songs by Hava Alberstein and feel thankful for that since I began to love her music.
During the next few months, I was able to visit the other two girls I met on my previous trip to Eilat. One of them was boring and the other one had cats. I didn’t like cats. The work at the lab still was keeping me unsatisfied. Now they gave me a new task; to balance rebuilt Gyros. This task was almost impossible because the technology wasn’t accurate. My Russian was getting better as my new friends were learning how the systems work, Ither from me or the rest of our technicians. It was winter already; the beginning of February and it was time for me to take one more vacation. I accumulated 3 more weeks of vacation. I was dismissed early on that Friday. I was disappointed from the bad weather we were expecting. Rain and thunderstorms. None of my friends were on vacation, so I was planning to go visit my family in Ashdod and Be’er Sheva right after the weekend.
The thunders outside were so loud, we almost couldn’t hear the knocking on the door. I got up to open it.
“Sergeant Rabinowitz?” I said, surprised to see him at my door. Sergeant Rabinowitz was from the clean room lab. He was wet from head to toe. “Please come in.” I offered him a towel which he took happily.
“I am sorry to come so late.” He started, “I was on Shabat duty at the camp and couldn’t come earlier.”
“What is it all about? Am I in trouble?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders. He pulled a manilla envelop from his bag and handed to me. “This came in right after you left on Friday. It looks like your vacation is in jeopardy.”
“You’re kidding!”
“You are to report to the Wingate’s Physical Education Academy, Sunday morning at 8PM at the back of the main gym.” The paper said.
“I was asked to pack your stuff and bring them to you. Sorry, they had to break your lock.” Sergeant Rabinowitz was apologetic. “I am not sure what is that all about, and I don’t know if this is permanent. This is why I have all your stuff here in this bag.” He handed me an old duffle bag.
“Thanks!”
He handed me the wet towel and walked down the stairs back to his ride. (Another Driver on duty drove him.)
It took me a few moments to realize what it was all about. I was summoned to a Military Lifeguard Course. In the dead of winter? The first thing I was looking for was my bathing suit. The next morning, I was at the back of the gym with other soldiers from different branches of the army. There were paratroopers, tank drivers, a few air force techies and even one civilian, the civilian was tall bold and much older. A familiar face was walking toward us. His long blond grayish hair was grayer than what I remembered.
“Zak?”
“I remember you. You grew some.” Zak said with a smile. “I will never forget how you helped save the boat.”
“Me neither, I was sick for two weeks after that.” I replied, “Is that your Reserve service duty?”
“Something like that, now, don’t expect any special treatment!” He ended with a smile and asked everyone to follow him.
We entered the swimming pool grounds. It was an Olympic size pool. 50 meter long, unheated, In the open air with only three walls surrounding it. Zak didn’t waste time, he took the attendance and sent us to change. As soon as we came back, he made us jump in the cold water and asked us to show him our swimming styles. Interestingly we all had our own style. Most were very strong swimmers, some were slower, like me for example. After all, I never had any formal swimming training. Our school swimming course was canceled after only one day because of the 6 days war.
“All of you need is, to forget everything you know about swimming. Yes, including you – he pointed to a tall guy who came a little late.”
I took a second look at him. “Bejerano?” I asked.
“Tibi?”
“Nice to see you!” Bejerano was a nick name we called one of my classmates from the Airforce Academy. His name was Moshe Barzani. He was assigned to a post in the north of Israel. It was nice to see someone friendly from the past.
“Enough talking, from now on for the next two weeks and when you are on duty as a Lifeguard, you never put your head under water.” Zak was very serious. “You need to see what is happening on top of the water at all times. So, now I want six laps of crawl, six laps of side stroke and six of breaststroke. Oh, and I don’t mean stroking any breasts. Move it you girls!”
This became our routine for the next two weeks. First thing in the morning the eighteen laps in the cold water and after that we would start training on how to pull a drowning man and how to make sure he doesn’t pull you down. After a short lunch break, again, eighteen laps plus twelve more pulling partners on the side or while swimming on the back and holding the partner’s head. Being the smallest in the group, Zak probably enjoyed giving me the heaviest partner. My partner was the big and bold civilian. I could almost swear he oiled his scalp. He kept sliding off my hands. I had to figure out a way to hold him. After long exercising in the pool every day we would end up with a bonus, “water polo”, the water game where you can drown everyone except the ball. Every day we would get so tired that we would eat double or triple portions of dinner. The second week of the course we started working in the sea.
Many years ago, the Arab fishermen developed a flat board where they would put their nets and row standing up like on a surfboard. They could see where the fish is and throw the net at the site. The lifeguards in Israel adopted the idea and built a slightly better, and lighter. It had an eye shape and was made out of fiberglass. It was and still is the best way to get to a drowning person and pulling him or her to safety. There for we had to learn to use the “Hassake”. This is how it is called. The center of the Hassake was a 2 x 12 wood plank with ribs like a flat fish covered with fiberglass. Yes, it was lighter than the Arab original fishing boat but still pretty heavy. One man couldn’t lift it but could push or drag it on the sand. To or from the water. At popular beaches on good days, when the sea is calm, you could rent a Hassake and row to the deep for your pleasure.
We had six of them, so we had to take turns practicing. The sea was very rough and very cold, much colder than the swimming pool. We had to learn to push the Hassake toward the waves and jump on it in the right moment, row quickly to pass the waves to the calmer deeper water. We would learn to pull a person from the water onto the flat boat and surf back to the shore. I can’t even recall how many times I fell of the Hassake or how many times it took me to learn to pass the waves. The water was cold, almost freezing. My hands would cramp trying to hold on to the big two-sided oar. By the end of the day, I finally got the hang of it. I was able to push the Hassake against the waves and row all the way to the dep water, pulled my “drowning” bold partner and serf back. The next day we were only supposed to practice rowing and surfing. No pulling anyone to the boat. Zak felt bad for us being cold in the water for so long. We were all thankful for that. I was so happy, I decided to come the next day wearing a sweater. Feeling invincible I pushed the Hassake toward the first wave, jumped on it and fell right back. The water was cold, the weight of the wet sweater was pulling me down making swimming even more difficult. As I was struggling to get back on the Hassake, I heard a yell to my right. Bejerano’s face was all red. His Hassake was on its way to the shore. I swam toward him, leaving my Hassake to join his at the shore. I looked at him once more and realized he lost his front two teeth. I helped him get to the shore, informed Zak and took Bejerano to the infirmary.
Two more months before I was to be dismissed from the lab, I still had to do my regular duties. I was never given any important tasks. Yet I still had my driving duties once a week.
“Can you drive faster?” asked sergeant first class Menashe. He was the assistant to the logistic officer. The officer who judged me for driving in a one-way street. We just finished filling the car with gas and were about to take sergeant first class Menashe home. I was driving a newer version of the Sussita pickup truck. This model was called “Carmel Ducas” it had a fiberglass body and a motor by Triumph. Menashe was sitting next to me and two other soldiers in the back seat. It was just after 5:00 PM, exactly when the officers and military civilians were transported home on buses.
“Come on! You must get out before those buses.” Sergeant first class was in a hurry. As we arrived at the junction, we saw the MP standing on the other side of the street getting ready to direct the traffic. I stopped and let the first buss go and snuck right behind it before the other buses had the chance to make the turn. The MP siren made me look back in the mirror. The MP waved for me to stop. To the dismay of sergeant first class Menashe, I pulled over to the left and let buses pass me on the right while the military policeman came over to give me a ticket for not stopping. Everyone was yelling at the MP trying to tell him that I did stop but I asked them to be quiet and that I will deal with it later. I took the ticket and continued the way to drop off my passengers. On the way we devised a plan; they will all come to the court session and will be my witness. For some reason the fact that I could end up in pen 6 didn’t bother me this time. I was confident I will get through this.
“You are accused” he didn’t even look at me, “of not stopping at the stop sign, how do you plea?”
“Not guilty! Sir!”
Just as the previous time, the logistic officer looked up as if to say; how dare you…
“You, haven’t I’ve seen you here before?” Our base was one of the biggest in the country. It was like a small city. If the logistic officer remembers you, you are in trouble. Usually, it isn’t for something good. “What do you have to say?” he looked at me and realized three others were standing behind me.
“May I approach? Sir!” I said showing him I was holding a light folder.
“You may.”
I put the folder on his desk and opened it showing him a sketch of the crossroad with a few rectangular images showing the buses, and a few showing my car and the MP across the street.
“See?” I started, I stopped right as the first bus was crossing. The MP was behind it and in no way could see me stopping. Or in this case, not stopping. And sir, I have here three witnesses to support my theory.”
“Yes, I see,” he said with a smile “Menashe?” He looked at his assistant.
“I was sitting shotgun, Sir.” Said the sergeant first class.
“I remember you now,” said the officer. “You were the one who stood here before with the one-way sign.”
“Yes Sir.”
“This is a first, you should consider yourself lucky. No one ever get away from punishment when the stand here. And you just did it twice. You should study law when you leave the military, you’d be a good lawyer. Dismissed!”
The month of May was getting closer and my promotion to sergeant was not advancing as it supposed to be. My superiors were not happy with my decision to become a lifeguard. They didn’t want to let me have any more repair or development tasks. Just a waist of talent. I decided to petition for a breach of contract and have my two extra years in the military dismissed for unsuitability. I filled the papers and sent them to the general’s office. It would take a few months before I hear from them.
Morrice, was the name of my new boss. He was tall, tan, very handsome with blue eyes, very self-absorbed, arrogant, and stupid. In the first 2 hours of getting to know him we – Yankale the lifeguard from the Skyhawks wing, Oren the paratrooper, and me – figured him out. He was part of the master sergeant’s department. Morrice was the head of the gym and the swimming pool. He answered to the master sergeant and we answered to him. Morrice would come every morning to make sure we opened the pool on time, that we knew how to clear the filters (he didn’t know how, we learned from the master sergeant). And of course, he would just come to bug us during the day just before we would go on a lunch break. We always had to have two lifeguards on duty except for weekends when we were three. During lunch Morrice would come and replace one of us at a time while we eat. Did I say he was obnoxious? There was something good about him: He volunteered to the Israeli army. Morrice was a son of a rich mogul from the USA (maybe his father sent him to Israel to make a man out of him). He was a fast swimmer and a good athlete but had some medical problems and couldn’t become a full fledge fighter. So, he became a physical education guide. Lucky for us, he didn’t spend all his time with us. He had to manage the camp’s gym. But whenever he did, we had to listen to him bragging about the money he has or the women he concurred.
The best part of being a lifeguard in our base was, you had to work only about half of the time. That means, because you have to be at the pool every Saturday, you had to be at the pool only on alternating weeks. The bad part was you didn’t spend Saturdays with your family or friends except for once every two months when Morrice had to cover for you. Oh, and he hated it and complained about it.
Next to the pool was a big wooden crate. It was used to transfer a helicopter from overseas. A crew from the master sergeant converted it to a nice cabin. It had 2 beds, a desk and a chair.
One of you will have to sleep here every night.” Said Morrice. I raised my hand.
“I would do it,” I said with excitement. “I am still living at the stupid barracks with six other soldiers.”
“Good, when you are out, we’ll figure it out between the rest of us” said Yankale. He lived at the sergeant’s quarters. Oren didn’t have a problem either. He lived with his paratrooper friends on their side of the camp.
I liked working with Yankale best. Somehow, we connected more than just partners at the pool. We would spend time together after hours.
“Yahalomi?” I said, seeing my old friend for the first time at our camp. He was sitting on a small stage at the Skyhawk wing club. He had his guitar in his hand and was enjoying his music with the noisy band.
“You know him?” asked Yankale.
“Do I know him? He is the one who taught me everything I know about guitar playing. Well, except for a few lessons I took with an uncle of mine before I enlisted.”
“He is a nice guy, good tech.”
“I think I am going to invite him to the swimming pool to play with me a little.”
“You play?”
“Yes, love playing the guitar, but I still have a lot to learn.”
I approached the little stage on the first break they had and Yahalomi was excited to see me too.
“I wish I knew you were here.” He said, “We could jam together.”
“Well, you may come to the swimming pool anytime and we can jam there.”
“Will do, Now I got to get back and play some more.”
“Beer? Asked Yankale.
“Beer? I love beer, I can drink beer forever,” I bragged.
“No way, you can’t drink more than I do.” Yankale was challenging.
“Oh, come on. It is just like water to me. All that will happen is that I will need to go to the bathroom all night.”
“I challenge you, but let’s see who drinks the most if we each eat a Mars bar for each beer can. The loser pays.”
By 11:00PM we reached eleven beers and eleven Mars bars, with a few bathroom breaks. Finally, Yankale gave up at number twelve, so I just drank half of number thirteen and walked to my cabin. No sooner after I closed my eyes, I felt a rumble in my stomach. Two seconds later the floor was covered with a wet mixture of mushy nougat, crushed hazelnuts and beer. It took me a few hours and a few buckets of soapy water to clean it up, but the smell lingered in my nose for a long time. For the next six months I couldn’t even come close to beer without the need to throw up.
Every morning one of our chores besides watching over the people in the pool grounds and water, was to vacuum the pool’s floor. Using a big machine and long hoses we swiped and sucked all the dirt that accumulated during the day before. We checked the chlorine level and PH level. We had to reverse the huge sand filters to clean them up and only then open the pool for the base public. Every morning afternoon and evening the Base’s jail would send one or two inmates to clean the bathrooms and showers. I smiled hearing Morrice’s insults and commands over the poor inmates; I was happy he had nothing to yell at me for. When I was on duty the water was clear and the pool was safe. I didn’t allow anyone to even come close to drowning.
“What is this noise I am hearing?” A red haired wearing a yellow bikini yelled at me. I was practicing some cords.
“Nice to meet you too!” I said with a smile “They call me Tibi”
“Zehava, what are you playing?”
“Isn’t it obvious? The drums.”
“Oh, Fuck you!” She was smiling.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“What time is this pool closes?”
“9:00PM”
“I will see you then and see about my promise.” She said and jumped to the pool.
Just as I was about to close the gates, there she was, standing, dressed in what looked like a beach towel.
“Are you going to let me in?”
I let her in and closed the gate behind her. She didn’t wait much she unwrapped her towel and jumped naked into the pool.
“What are you waiting for?”
I took my speedo of and jumped in. again, she didn’t wait much she wrapped her legs around me and mounted me in seconds.
“See?” She whispered in my ear as I exploded inside her, “I always keep my promise.”
I spent the rest of that night together with the young woman who took my virginity. I got up early to get ready for the early swimmers.
“Don’t make it a habit,” she said as I was setting the water vacuum. “I can’t promise I will visit you often, I have a boyfriend.”
Sergeant first class Menashe walked in later that morning.
“Yoh, Tibi, the logistic officer wants to see you.” He said, “he will be here right after lunch. Make sure everything looks clean and in order.”
“What did I do now?” I thought to myself; I hope he didn’t find out about the red head girl. But anyway, it isn’t an offensive act.
“I don’t know, I just saw it in his calendar and thought I should let you know.”
“Thanks!”
The Logistic officer walked in with a civilian man toward me. I felt silly saluting wearing only my speedo.
“No need,” he said with a smile “It is nice to see you not in my court.”
“Oh yes!”
“This is Captain on reserved duties Mordechai from the Navy.”
“They call me Juckie.”
“Captain Juckie,” said the Logistic officer with a smile, is here to train our pilots in SCUBA diving. I need you to be here and help him with all of his needs. The pool will be closed to everybody whenever we have a training exercise here. There will be other sessions like the combine training between 669 and the pilots and some other programs. I count on you to be prompt and helpful.”
“Yes sir!” I said and was about to salute him when he waved me off. “It will be my pleasure.”
“Good!”
Oren and I were sitting on our tower watching the empty pool when the radio station Galei Zahal announced that an Air France flight to Israel was high jacked by terrorists and was on its way to Entebbe.
“Maybe they should send the 669 to get them,” I said to Oren.
“No, that is not what they are trained for. We have another elite force, they just arrived here.
That evening the elite force in a few heavy Hercules military cargo planes left our base and flew south toward Uganda. After a surprise attack they managed to damage all the Ugandan fighter planes and rescue all the passengers. Unfortunately, Jonathan Netanyahu – the leader of the elite force was killed as he was the first in line to enter the room where the hostages were held. It was a mixture of happiness and sadness for the next few weeks. What tilted the scale was another event that impressed everyone in Israel; the Israeli beauty queen Rina More won the title of Mis. Universe.
***
Boulette (Meat Balls)
French / Tunisian meat balls that are mostly vegetables. These meatballs are usually served on top of couscous. With the addition of the chicken /vegetable soup, it is usually served on every Friday night amongst the Tunisian Jews.
Ingredients:
½ Lb. Ground Beef
½ Lb. Ground Turkey
1 Onion
3 Garlic Cloves
1 tsp Crushed Ginger
1 Celery Stalk
¼ Parsley bunch
1 tsp Salt
½ tsp Paprika
2 Potatoes
2 Eggs
½ Cup Flour
Preparation:
Cut slices of the potatoes. Crush the vegetables and mix them together with an egg. Make balls and put in between 2 slices of potato. Dip in beaten egg and in spiced flour. Deep fry to crisp. Put in a tray with chicken soup and let steam for 30 minutes
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