SAR-EL, “VOLUNTEERS FOR ISRAEL” ADVENTURE

By Joane L. Klein

            The war with Iraq was coming any day but we went anyway.  Sar-El, “Volunteers for Israel” was offering for the first time a one-week volunteer program and we couldn’t turn this one down.  Volunteers were badly needed in Israel to assemble the gas masks being distributed to civilians for the immanent U.S. led war against Iraq.   My good friend Shaindy Pujia, also wanting to take advantage of the one week program to personally work in Israel for the safeguarding of Israelis during this critical period, said to me, “I’m going, war or no war.”  That was all I needed to hear and any doubts about going were cast aside.

            Our application to Sar-El accepted, our departure day arrived.  We left for Israel from BWI Airport and while there were very few international travelers, standing immediately behind us at the check-in counter was a young frum couple with their infant baby returning to Israel.  Shaindy and I looked at each other with pride and joy at this symbol of Jewish renewal despite the two years intefada in which hundreds of Israelis have been killed and the impending war with Iraq.

            Twelve hours later we were on the sheirut, the shuttle bus from Ben Gurion Airport to Maalot Dafna, the Jerusalem neighborhood where we would spend the Shabbos before going to the Sar-El volunteer week.  Friday morning we did what we thought was our “duty to Israel,” to go shopping and spend our money to help the Israeli shop owners and the Israeli economy.   We consulted with each other as we made purchases for our families and for ourselves, a hat, a dress, some necklaces and Judaica.   We laughed about needing another suitcase to go home.   As Friday was drawing toward Shabbos, along with the other pedestrians we finished our purchases quickly and left to get ready for Shabbos.   What a wonderful Shabbos to be in Israel, in Jerusalem, in the home of our Israeli hostess, Mrs. Lobel, and a delicious dinner with Rav. Altman, Shaindy’s father and his wife Leah.   The next morning, Shabbos, we quickly dressed and hurridly made our way to the Jaffa Gate to daven at the kotel. 

            Sunday morning we arose about 6 A.M. to pack up for Sar-El and catch the sheirut back to Ben Gurion Airport.  Our timing was good and we were among the first to arrive.  It was easy to spot Pam Lazrus,  the Sar-El Coordinator, just in front of the Avis desk in the arrivals hall.  Pam was warm and efficient and after welcoming us to Sar-El, introduced the volunteers to each other, showed us where to purchase phone cards, and  smoothly got us aboard the minibus headed for Julis army base located to the south of Ashdod.   The other volunteers with us were Hank from New York, Morty and Steve from New Jersey, Peter from Belgium, Arnie from Norway, Ingrid from Sweden, along with two other Europeans.   For the next hour or so we would travel through the countryside of beautiful farmland and orange groves, spring not yet here, but signs of a new season of life everywhere.

            As our minivan arrived at Julis Army Base, we were greeted by our two madrachot, Helen and Naama, the two young Israeli soldiers who head up the volunteers and would accompany us to and from the gas mask location, meet us in the morning for flag raising and news briefing, as well as accompanying us on trips and providing informative programs in the evening.  Helen and Naama showed us to our dormitory and our rooms where Shaindy and I met Ruth and Mirriam, our roommates from Toronto and Buffalo, longtime veterans of Sar-El.  Ruth was head of the volunteer training for the gas masks and made sure the process ran smoothly.  Mirriam worked in the bakery on base and each evening, would bring into the T.V. lounge several different kinds of delicacies baked that day.   Ruth and Mirriam helped Shaindy and I with our first tasks, getting our uniforms and making our beds with the freshly washed army sheets and blankets they had available.

            Our first afternoon on base, we were bussed to the location where the gas masks are assembled, a giant IDF guarded warehouse filled with a great number of soldiers and other workers, worktables and benches for assembling the masks, boxes of all different sizes, pallets for holding the assembled boxed masks, a lunchroom, and machinery for moving huge boxes of assembled gas masks.  Our first day we sorted out atropine, the drug used to counteract the effects of biological chemical warfare.   The following day, Monday, was our first whole day at work, getting to the mess hall at 7 A.M. and flag raising at 7:30, and onto our busses by 8:00 to get to the gas mask assembly location.  We were assembled in groups of about nine or ten volunteers to a table, each person doing one phase of the required assembly to make the gas masks operable.  By 11 A.M. the huge building was filled with groups of young soldiers, Russian-born soldiers, Ethiopian born soldiers, young women soldiers, senior citizens bused in for the day, seminary girls bussed in for the day, all working with their individual groups, laughing and chatting, playing music on their radios ranging from Israeli rap to American golden oldies such as “At the Hop.”   We sat around the tables, each taking a different job and getting to know everyone in our group.  Some of the young Russian soldiers were shouting, “hota potato” as they slung boxes of gas masks to the finishing point.  We were all working at top speed because of the impending Iraqi war.   Shimon, our IDF commander, encouraged us and motivated us to work hard, saying “C’mon, I bet you can reach 1,500 today.”

            And so it went for the remainder of the week.  Each day we tried to do more than the previous day and by the end of the week, we totaled about 6,500 gas masks for our group of nine volunteers.  We were tired, but it was a good tired.  The week for volunteers is over on Thursday at 4:00.  Many of us returned to Jerusalem for Shabbos and others went to Tel Aviv and other cities.  Shaindy and I put on our Shabbos clothes and davened at the kotel Friday night, the moon rising up full over the Western Wall and later that night, I dreamed of never having to leave Israel again.

Joane Klein