By Len Abram

Americans. He probably did not have in mind the 11 Americans and one Canadian at Ben-Gurion

Airport six weeks later, volunteers in the Sar-El program.

Sar-El is a Hebrew acronym meaning “Service to Israel.” Participants spend a minimum of

two weeks working with the Israel Defense Forces, Israel’s citizen army. Three Americans in

the newly arrived group were local to the Boston area – Arleen Hardiman, Harriet Torgeson

and myself, all from Beth El Temple Center in Belmont. The rest were from New York, New

Jersey, Maryland, Texas and California.

Sar-El began in the summer of 1982, in the midst of the Galilee War. Golan Heights settlements

faced losing their entire crops when many settlers were called up for army reserve

duty. Dr. Aharon Davidi, former head of the IDF Paratroopers and Infantry Corps, sent friends

to the U.S. to recruit help. Within a few weeks, 650 volunteers arrived in Israel to bring in the

harvest. Since then, 150,000 helpers from 30 different countries have come – nearly a third

from America. Volunteers (“mitnadev,” in Hebrew) travel at their own expense, though El-Al gives a

small discount. They must also pass a thorough vetting process and interview with a local Sar-El

representative. The minimum age is 17, but Sar-El has no upper age limit – a 92-year-old

American has served in the program.

Upon arrival this summer, the dozen jet-lagged volunteers at Ben-Gurion were bussed to

our base, a logistics post for the paratroops. That night we slept in barracks on cots. Men and

women stayed in separate barracks, including married couples (there were two in the

group). Issued IDF fatigues the next day, the volunteers ate breakfast with reservists and recruits.

Meals were plain and plentiful – including tofu for the vegetarians. We quickly learned we had

to walk everywhere – to the parade ground for the morning flag-raising, to work and to the

mess hall. Bathrooms and showers were separate from the barracks, so we even walked to

brush our teeth.

Working and living conditions in Sar-El range from easy to rough, depending where volunteers

are needed. In previous assignments, some had assembled communications equipment

in cool comfort at a base on the Israeli coast, while others cleaned tanks in the Golan

Heights. Sar-El is up front that the program offers many challenges and few amenities. Still,

a high percentage of volunteers return. The army also assigned a “madricha,” a facilitator and liaison,

to our group. Most evenings after work, she organized Hebrew language study or

brought in lecturers on Israeli history and current events. The IDF also showed its gratitude

with an escorted day trip to Jerusalem.

Volunteers had weekends off; their Shabbat started in effect on Thursday afternoon and

lasted until Sunday morning. Some traveled to family and friends, while others blended in

with Israel’s booming tourist population. The madricha also gave us our assignments. For the two

weeks most worked the warehouses, with overflowing bins of clothing and gear. We set up

an assembly line for filling duffle bags with equipment, each color coded for size, from

“Beth” (small) to “MemMem” (extra large).

We sorted through mounds of fatigues, canteens, helmets, ammunition vests, cups and eating

utensils, packing and stacking enough 40-pound bags to reach the ceilings of the storerooms.

At the end of the two weeks, the IDF thanked the volunteers with a ceremony and pictures

with the soldiers. The captain presented the volunteers with paratroop wings like his own,

along with the unit’s insignia, the maternal pelican. But it was without official ceremony that another moment of appreciation occurred. While volunteers were filling duffle bags during the first week, a

platoon of reservists in their 20s and 30s came back from a military exercise. After returning

their equipment to logistics, the reservists rested in the shade and drank juice and soda.

“Who are you?” one of them asked a volunteer who had stepped outside and was soon

joined by the rest of us. “Mitnadvim,” the volunteer answered, “Sar-El.”

“Blessings on you – Kol Hakovod,” the reservists said, and offered their cold drinks.