Nani Haim Tibi

Driver on Duty

    “A party?” Asked Efri, “with new girls?”
 “Yes, and I was asked to bring some more boys.” (Please don’t get offended; in Hebrew the words boys and girls don’t mean actual kids. It just means females and males.)
Sami from the instruments’ panel department was having a birthday party for his younger sister and she had more girlfriends than boys. He decided to invite us boys. Efri and I called Buch and Dubi and drove in Efri’s father’s Sussita to the party in Ramat-Gan.

    At the stop light in Hertzelia we were about to turn left. The light to go straight turned green and the cars on our right started moving. Efri put the car in gear and before we could say, “not yet” drove forward. He was stopped abruptly with a bang and hit the bumper of the car in front of us. Lucky for us the car in front wasn’t damaged and the driver waved us to forget about it. But as we took the turn the engine thermometer gage went high. We pulled to the gas station across the street and looked under the hood of the car. The fan hit the radiator and punctured a small hole. Hot water was leaking. We were stuck, we were on our way to a party and our car was damaged. 
 “Use a chewing gum” suggested Dubi, “to plug the hole.”
 “It will not hold,” Buch said, “We need to melt some led or maybe plastic to plug it.”
Efri pulled his cigarette lighter and Dubi found a plastic bottle.

    “What in God’s name, are you doing? We heard the gas pump attendant yell. “This is a gas station. Do you want to blow us up? Go to the back of the station do whatever you do there.”
We pushed the Sussita to the back of the station and believe it or not, a broken down Sussita was standing there with the hood opened. I looked in and sure enough it had a radiator. You have to understand, we had to be at the party in ½ an hour. There was no way we were going to miss it. And here is a gift from God who probably thought the same. Efri had a toolbox (like most of us who were driving old cars) in the back. It took only four screws to replace the radiator. We exchanged them in less than ten minutes, filled the car with water and waved the gas attendant goodbye.
 “Thank you!” yelled Efri toward him as the guy was looking at us like asking, “what are you thanking me for?

    Sami’s sister’s party was fun, except, even before we walked in the door Sami greeted us with; “have fun and my sister is off limit.” She was pretty and friendly and went out of the way to be nice to me. But I had to remember, she was “above me” a higher class, untouchable. Efri and my friends had a great time, each went home with at least one phone number. I couldn’t wait to tell Lili who became my best friend at the base.

    I can’t even believe it myself; I would look forward to the nights when I was on cleaning duties to stay late and talk with her on the phone. Our talks would last for hours and covered so many subjects. We had a lot in common except that we didn’t think of each other as lovers. Whenever she had the chance, she would let me call on an outside line to talk with Efrat through her rehabilitation. I wasn’t sure what was she rehabilitated from, whether it was from drugs or just her over sexual drive. Talking about “drive”, I became a very good driver. Every guard duty I was picked to be the colonel’s private driver or the master sergeant’s garbage truck driver. Everyone on duty wanted to join me with the garbage collecting task because we would finish early and spend time at the canteen. At the guard’s duties I would be driving the colonel at his inspections or drive the canine crew to feed the guard dogs, and even spend some time with the fire fighters doing some small runs for them. Fire fighters were an odd crew. Sitting all day waiting for a fire to happen, or a plain to crash land kept them pretty bored. So, they dedicated that time to clean the trucks, paint the facility, and even built a big fish pool. The pool was full of guppies – I have never seen so many in one place. Pretty colorful tails so crowded you couldn’t see the water.

    Every lab or workshop had to assign one of their technicians to be a weekly driver on duty. This title had to be given to a corporal (which I just received a few weeks before) with a license to drive trucks. Since I was the only corporal in our lab with that kind of license, I was given that task. That meant I didn’t have to do the master sergeant duties or guard duties anymore. Instead, I would have to give one evening and night to driving tasks or manning the small telephone center when there were no driving tasks. Sometimes we would have special driving duties that would take us more than just one night or even weekends. The driver on duty answered to the rescue department which was under the command of the human resource officer, Captain Pinkel. Every Wednesday which became my on-duty day and his late evening I would drive him home. At first, we would drive quietly while he would read through his papers.
 “What is your name, corporal?”  He surprised me one evening.
 “Tibi”
 “Is that your first name?”
 “No sir, my name is Nani Haim Tibi, but everyone calls me Tibi.”
 “Tibi, it is then” he proclaimed. “You are the first driver I feel safe with, I can actually take my eyes of the road and do some work.”
 “Thank you, sir.”
 “I have a task for you this week. It will require a few days off base.”
 “I will be more than happy, Captain.”
 “This is a rescue mission. One of our fighter jets crashed somewhere in the middle of Sinai. We need to bring all the parts of the wreckage. There will be two semitrailers, a caterpillar crane, and you will be driving a brand-new small jeep. We have the coordinates; it will take you about two days to get there, about two days be there or whatever time it will take you to collect the parts and two to get back.”
 “I am honored and very excited.”

    Needless to say, my superiors weren’t happy to let me go when finally, I was more available to work at the lab. I packed my sleeping bag a few uniform sets and my wash kit. Driving the little Jeep was fun. It was much lower to the ground than the original jeep. We left early in the morning and drove south toward Gaza. We didn’t get into town but bypassed it and drove along the northern shore of Sinai to Port Said. There we stopped at a military post for the night. It was a nice change to be at another camp. The air force had the worst food in the military. Well, except for officers, and pilots who ate the best food in the military. At other military bases, mostly small ones, they had smaller kitchens and very good chefs. For dinner we were served Shakshuka, something we couldn’t even dream on getting at our base’s kitchen. Shakshuka is a North African dish of poached eggs in spicy tomato sauce. The rooms we were assigned for was in a prefabricated modular unit amongst others spread in that desert post. It was a cold night compare to the hot day. I was glad to have my sleeping bag with me.

    Early the next morning we were on our own in the middle of the desert. No roads in front of us or behind us. We were using a topographic map to find our ways through the sandy dunes. I drove in the front this time searching for any signs of the plane crash. Nothing should be left for anyone to find. Our fighter planes were modified with many Israeli patents which couldn’t fall into enemy’s hands. Driving that little Jeep was the most fun driving I had at that time of my life. No roads and the vehicle managed the dunes perfectly. Up and down the hills back and forth until we found the first big section of the plane. It was almost scarry to look at that mangled piece of burnt metal. I drove back to the rest of the team and directed them to the wreckage. The big crane picked up the pieces one at a time and placed it on the other semitrailer. Now, loaded with the heavy parts the semitrailer had hard time puling itself out. It kept digging in the sand so far that the belly of the truck was touching the sand. We had to use the crane who was driven by chains, to pull the truck for some distance and only then load itself on the other bed to be driven back to camp. I picked a small, melted blob of the burnt plane and kept it in my pocket for souvenir.

    Every three months a soldier in the Israeli army should get a week off to visit his family or just to relax. Because of the war and other projects some of us accumulated those vacations. We had no choice, duty came first. The most one could accumulate was three weeks. You will forfeit your vacation if you go more than the vacation allocated to you. I accumulated three weeks and it was time for me to use it. It was summertime, my brother Avi had his vacation too and we decided to take our vacation in Eilat and the east coast of Sinai.
 “Let’s go to Nueiba or Dahab,” Avi suggested. “I hear there are many naked tourists on that beach.”
 “Sounds good, I also want to snorkel and rent some sailboats.” I replied.

    Eilat was a small town at that time. Not many hotels, but long beach where many tourists would camp with or without a tent. You could rent small sailboats for one or two people. The wind was just right, and the sea stayed calm. What the Red Sea is known for is the marine life. The colors of the fish are so bright it looked like they were hand painted. On the way down to Eilat we took a bus, so of course it stopped at Yotveta and we bought some dates and their famous Choco. We arrived at the evening so we couldn’t rent any boats or go snorkeling. We went swimming and camped out next to a group of girls, so what else can you expect? I pulled my guitar and played. Before we went to sleep, I already collected a few phone numbers. Rachel from Afula, Yardena and Beth from Jerusalem. The next morning Avi and I rented a sailboat each and were practicing sharp turns and even managed to flip the boats over and continue sailing. Of course, we took the girls for a ride.

    We stayed at Eilat only one day, the next morning we were on our way to Nueba. This time we had to hitch hike, not so much of a problem in those days. We jumped in the back of a military pickup truck who dropped us at the crossroad of the Nueba beach.

    Nueba was just the name of the location next to some Bedouins’ camp. It had a nice reef where you could dive. On the beach was one fast food restaurant where they served deep fried fresh caught fish, French fries, and salad. The restaurant was busy all day from early in the morning to late at night. Both Israeli youth and international tourists were spread all over the beach. There was a spot where you could shower outdoors and further away from the beach were some latrines. Besides my guitar, I also had with me the camera Uncle Moshe gave me for my bar mitzvah. It had a twelve-photo roll, so I had two more color film rolls with me. For some reason, we never worried about theft, I guess because we were far from civilization where the poor people would go. I would leave my guitar and camera and even money and know no one will still it. Not even the young Bedouins who would try to sell us some cheap souvenirs. Avi and I bought “Gallabiyahs” a dress like long shirt that Bedouin men wear. We spend all the time together, we rented sail boats so many times that the owner became our friend and finally let us use the boats for free. Even when one morning when the sea was rough, he trusted us and let us take the boat out. He didn’t have many boats to rent so Avi and I had to just go together on the same sunfish boat. We were having so much fun flipping the boat and trying to stay dry while rolling it over. Once Avi was laughing so hard he had to go to the bathroom (not number one). I tilted the boat while he lowered his bathing suit and dropped his “gift” to the sharks, still laughing his heart out.

    “Nice guitar playing and singing!” Said a short haired blond next to me in the open showers. 
 “Thanks!”
 “I also saw your crazy maneuvers with the sailboat.” She had a Spanish accent. Surprised, I was sure she was Scandinavian.
I looked at her more carefully, it was getting dark out, but I could see her blue eyes checking me out too.
 “They call me Tibi.”
 “Judith”
 “Did you have dinner yet?”

    We sat at one of the picnic tables eating our fish and chips with a side of humus and salad.    “Do you play only American music?” she asked.
 “Well, I played African too,” I said, “Mory Cante, is French African.”
 “I like Israeli music more.”
 “For you, I will work on it. Where are you from?”
 “Argentina, I am here on a year college program.”
 “Only one year? Where do you live?
 “Well, it depends, I will see how I feel when I finish my education. I might come back, I might stay. Right now, I live in Jerusalem in a dorm.”
I couldn’t take my eyes of her, the whole time we were talking, which was the rest of my stay on that beach. Every night we would lay next to each other in our sleeping beds. In the morning I would take a picture of her with the sun rising behind her. Just to prove to her that she is prettier than the sun in the morning. We would go on long walks almost getting lost in the dunes and loving every moment. We took the bus back to Eilat together and before taking the separate buses I promised to come to visit her on my first “afternoon pass”.

    “I am sure I am in love!” I said to Lili when we met on Monday for lunch at the base’s main cafeteria. “I hate the food here.”
 “I can’t wait until we become sergeants so we can eat at the sergeant’s dining room. Tell me about that girl”
 “I don’t know, we just connected, she is pretty, soft skin, nicely tanned for a blond, blue eyes, and she likes my music.” I sighed, “I don’t think I will be a sergeant very soon. They don’t like me very much at my lab.”
 “So, when are you going to see her again?”
 “Tuesday, I will go to Jerusalem and if I get an assignment on Wednesday to Jerusalem, I will try seeing her again.”
 “Good luck! I am very happy for you.”

    I didn’t want to take a chance with hitch hiking, so I took the bus to Jerusalem and another local bus to her dorm. Judith had a single room decorated very softly feminine. She even had a few candles lit. In very short time her shirt was off, as well as mine. When my hands were finding their way to her underwear, she whispered, “you are going to be the lucky one, you know.” She pulled me closer to her when I suddenly realized what she was talking about.
 “Wait a moment, I want you to be sure about it.” I said, (How stooped can I be? Will I ever learn?)  “I don’t want to be your first unless you really love me.” As much as I wanted to be with her; and believe me the pressure in between my legs was hurting. Judith smiled, a little disappointed, she pulled my head and gave me a long kiss. We stayed that way until I realized, it was time for me to leave. The last bus of the day was leaving soon.
 “I will try to make it tomorrow, but if not, I will be here next Tuesday.” I said as I was putting my shirt on. The bus ride was long and difficult when I realized my pants were wet.

    I was lucky the next day, or so I thought, the first and only run that evening was to take one officer to Jerusalem. After dropping him off I stopped at the Ben Yehuda market and bought a single red rose. I parked the car and walked to Judith’s dorm room. She was at the door dressed to walk out when I knocked on the door.
 “I am sorry,” she said with a blank expression. “I have to leave; I have a date.”
 “Wha…ha” I started to mumble.
 “You see,” she raised one hand over her head, “you love me that much, and I love you that much.” She raised her other hand just a little lower than the other hand. “I will never be able to love you the same…”
I placed the rose on her desk, turn around and walked to the car. I am not sure how I found my way back to base. My eyes were watery the whole night.

    “Hey,” said Lili the next day when we met for lunch, putting her arm around my soldier. “There will be other girls, I promise! Look over there, here is that GADNA leader again, the one with the perfect eyes. I think she is looking at you …”

 

***

Water and More Water

    Not only Lili tried to make me feel better. Avi my brother who just left his Military Academy – being dyslexic like me, he had a hard time catching up with physics and chemistry. One thing did go well for him, he was tall and handsome, and girls loved him. So, he decided to introduce me to one of his girlfriends’ friend. Like a double date. His girl was from a small village a little Northeast of Netanya called Bitan Aharon, it was bordering with the House of the First Pilgrims. Rootie was the friend of his girlfriend. She was very cute wavy dark-haired girl with blue eyes. We went dancing that night at one of Avi’s friends’ house and to the beach.

    The next day Dad let me borrow his car to pick up the girls. We all had a great time. We exchanged addresses and I promised to write. As soon as I arrived back to camp, that night I wrote Rootie a nice letter, thanking her for the nice time and telling her that I hope to see her on my next vacation. I signed the letter with my name next to something new I started doing, a little drawing of a fly next to my name. It took two weeks for her note to get back to me. She was very polite and nice thanking me for the good time but, as she put it, she couldn’t wait three weeks for the boyfriend to come back. She was young and loved to have fun. She didn’t think it was a good idea. Oh, “PS” she wrote, “cute fly!” Oh well, at least she didn’t tell me I was Yemenite, or her Mom didn’t like me.

    “Go home,” Efri said to me when I stopped at his house one Friday afternoon. “You need to pack.”
 “Why? Where are we going?”
 “Camping overnight at Tantura’s beach.” He said with a smile.
 “Wait, the beach belongs to the kibbutz, it will be closed.”
 “Remember you directed me on the Tustus to Nachal Taninim to the natural pool? And then you took me to the northern side of Hof Dor? That part is open to the public.”
 “Oh yeah! I love that spot.” Just between Nachsholim and Hedonism. We’ll need to navigate through the banana fields.”
 “Yup!” he said “We will be a few cars, only boys”
 “Who else is coming?”
 “So far, Dubi, Doron, Buchbinder, Udi, and Nuri, he is going to bring his cameras. You better bring the guitar and some fishing gear. We hope to grill the fish. Go, I will pick you up in 2 hours.”

    He was late, he arrived at my house about an hour late. In the front seat next to him sat Nurit Berman, the daughter of the driving tester.
 “I thought it was only boys.” I said, “I could have called Efrat or someone else.”
 “Sorry, she twisted my arm. I told her, Even Ariel left his girl home, and they are never apart. She promises not to cause any problems.”

    We drove in three cars, Efri in his Sussita with Nurit, Nuri and me. Udi behind us in his Fiat 500 driving with Dubi. Behind him was Ariel with Doron and Buch in a Volts Wagon beetle. We drove on the old road north. There were two main roads leading from Tel Aviv to Haifa the old one, closer to the center of the country. And the newer shore highway, as its name was along the Mediterranean shore. The old road was stretched amongst the agricultural fields and groves. Somewhere in between the bananas groves south of Zikhron Yaakov was the natural water hole. It took me a few moments to find the place. It was still surrounded with wild raspberry bushes. We camped there for the afternoon and swam in the clear water. By the time we dried up it was getting dark and the best time to get to the beach unnoticed. Those days, the kibbutz had the only rights to the shore at that area. We didn’t think it was fair and so we found a way to get there without causing any problems or conflicts.

    We hid the cars in the banana grove and took our gear with us to the shore. Efri and I went looking for some wood to start a fire while the rest were clearing a spot for all of us to gather. Doron brought beer for all of us Buch brought potatoes. Nuri pulled out his cameras and started to take pictures of our little fire. Dubi washed a few potatoes in the sea water and threw some under the burning wood. I pulled my guitar Efri did the same and we played and sang alternately. Nurit just sat next to Efri and didn’t say a word as if she wasn’t there. The sea was calm we couldn’t even hear waves. The stars were all visible, except for the small fire there was no light around us, and we enjoyed the privacy nature provided us. Nuri told us about the new Anti-Tank mistles he got to work with. Dubi told us about the new Galil assault rifle. Efri Doron and Buch who were still at the college program had the most questions. There were about to join the military in a few weeks. Slowly we all fell asleep but woke up with the sun.

    The first thing we did was jump in the water and splashed around. The water was cold compare to the warm temperature at night. It takes all day for the water to warm up and all night to cool down again. As soon as we could see the sun over the banana trees Nuri pulled his cameras and started taking pictures of us. We paused for him naked, Nurit was still sleeping. I paused like the “David statue, Efri, Buch and I paused like the three monkeys; hear no evil see no evil speak no evil. We even held hands in a line walking out of the water all naked. No one was at that beach until late in the morning. Udi and Dubi went fishing for us to grill and eat. As soon as people started to show up in the beach, we packed our gear and drove back home.
 “Nurit,” Nuri Said, “You may come with us anytime you want we really didn’t feel you were here.”

    “Why are you so wet?” Asked Captain Pinkel when he entered the car.
 “Sorry Capitan,” I answered, “I lost the track of time. I was training at the pool for the swim across the Kineret.”
 “You’re a swimmer?” I nodded. “Nice!”
 “Well, I love anything to do with water, swimming, diving, snorkeling, sailing, you name it. In fact, I wish I could be a lifeguard in the base’s swimming pool. Things don’t look good for me at the lab. They don’t bother promoting me or giving me any responsibilities. Even with this Driver’s duty they keep on giving me unrelated chores, I accumulated three vacations again.”
“Hmm…”
“Well,” I continues, “I am not complaining, the good thing is I am taking a vacation to Eilat and Sharem for two weeks. I will save the other week for the winter so I can go to Eilat again.”
 “You like that place, don’t you?”
 “Like I told you, anything to do with water.”
 “Good luck with crossing the Kineret!” Captain Pinkel said when I dropped him off at his home in Hertzelia. “See you when you get back from your vacation. I will miss our talks”
 “Thanks Captain!”

    It was time to call Rachel from Afula. Remember? I got some phone numbers from girls on my last trip to Eilat. Rachel was one of them. She loved my guitar playing and also loved Israeli folk dancing. When I called her, she was very excited and invited me over to go dancing on the night before the swim across the Kineret. Afula was on the way to the Kineret. We went to some school in her neighborhood that evening to dance. Israeli folk dancing is a group activity. We danced in circles and in lines, but my favorite as well as others is the partner dancing. Rachel was my partner for that evening, and we had a lot of fun. That night she set me up on the sofa at her parent’s house. Early the next morning I got up and continued my way to the Kineret for the swim. I promised her to be back that afternoon after the swim.

   Swimming across the Kineret was a yearly tradition. There was one with the civilian swimmer which was across the wider part of the Sea of Galilee. The military swim was across the shorter distance, maybe because they didn’t want to take the soldiers out of their duties for too long. I was lucky to be able to get the day off. Like me or not, the lab was happy to have a representative. I did swim a distance like that before, if you remember. I swam with Efri from downtown Netanya north to Ein HaTchelet a while ago. But this was in salty water. The only distance swimming in fresh water which was harder were the laps at the pool. This time there was no way to rest in the middle or to stop. Once you are out there the only way out is to finish the race. I decided to take it easy and not to rush. I knew I was in no way in a condition to win or even come close to it. I let most of the swimmers go ahead and jump in in front of me and swam breaststroke the whole way. I don’t remember how long it took but when I got to the end I was starving and was happy to find tables with food for all of us.

    When I arrived at Rachel’s house, her parents prepared a Moroccan dinner, and right after Rachel and I went for a walk. Rachel Lived in the northern part of Afula on a hill. The southern side of Afula was more the business side. It was known for making the best sunflower seeds in the country. We walked down toward the southern side and I told her all about the swim. She extended her arms and pulled me for a kiss. We gave up of the idea to walk south and walked back to her house and as soon as we entered, she grabbed me for another kiss. She took her shirt off and pulled me again. As soon as I kissed her, I felt something very odd; she went limp for a moment, I almost lost her. I grabbed her quickly before she hit the floor.
 “You’re OK?” I asked.
 “Sure, why?”
 “I thought I lost you for a moment.”
 “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said and pulled her bra off. Again, she pulled me toward her and kissed me while trying to take of my shirt. Suddenly, she went limp again, this time for a bit longer. I laid her down on the sofa as she woke up. I didn’t know what to say or do. Should I confront her? Should I ask her about it? Instead, I just told her it was time for me to leave – I had to be back at the base before midnight. She promised to write to me and me her. I kissed her once more and went on my way.

    Buch and I planned the trip to Eilat and south to Sharem El Shaikh. We heard that the best place in the world to SCUBA or snorkel is that part of the red sea. Buch was about to join the military and he wanted to go on a nice vacation just before. He was in that special program with Efri and Doron. They were enlisted as reserve soldiers as long as they are at college. Now that their program was about to end, one at a time they were to join the military. Doron and Efri were to join as mechanical engineers at the Airforce and Buch decided to volunteer in the new special airborne combat rescue and evacuation unit 669. It is an arduous training course that includes parachuting, rock climbing, SCUBA diving, driving all kind of vehicles and some even learn to fly. The unit was created mainly to rescue pilots who fall behind enemy lines. I felt special being connected to them somehow, being in the plane rescue team. Even though I didn’t get to go behind enemy lines yet.

    We spent the weekend sorting through our gear and packed our snorkels, masks, and fins. We each had a sleeping bag some food and a water canteen. And how can I forget, the guitar. This cheap guitar was almost a part of me. It went with me everywhere and I loved it. It didn’t have the best sound, but it helped me make a lot of friends.

    We left early on Sunday morning. We met at the Shore Highway’s hitch-hiking post with other soldiers making their way back to camp after the weekend. We let many of the soldiers go in front of us; they had a more important place to be and besides we were waiting for someone going pass Tel-Aviv. It didn’t take long; Netanya’s hitch-hiking post was a busy one. Many people were generous and very friendly to soldiers. Unlike places like Afula, I never understood why, I could be standing for two to three hours at that junction and no one would stop and give me a ride. Not that it was difficult to stop there, it was a small road, not even a highway.

    Anyway, we lucked up and the first car we jumped on was driving all the way south to Be’er Sheva. It was a military pickup truck with wooden seats in the back bed facing each other. We were 6 soldiers seating in the back. Two of them jumped off next to Tel-Aviv. Once we arrived to Be’er Sheva We walked to the south entrance of the town and from there waited for our next ride. This one, was a big truck, it took us to my favorite kibbutz of the Arava – Prairie, Kibbutz Yotveta. As expected, we stocked our backpacks with Choco and dates. We got lucky with the next ride. It was another pickup truck of soldiers who served not too far from Nueba. The radio was playing so loud, we could hear it in the back. They were nice enough to take us all the way to the beach before turning back to their camp. It was dark already before we found a place to camp. We dumped our bags on chairs in the restaurant and ordered fish and chips. There was something so special about eating fried fish that was caught just a few hours ago. At the distance we saw a small bon fire with a few people around it. We decided to camp next to them. It was a long day; we fell asleep early.

    One of the singers I discovered those years, was Cat Stevens. I was trying to learn to play some of his songs with my friend Tzvika but didn’t spend enough time practicing them. The last song we heard on the ride we caught to Nueba was “Wild Word” by Cat Stevens. I didn’t know the words or how to play it. Yet, at about four AM, I was dreaming that I was playing and singing just that song. I woke up, and half a sleep with no regards to all the other people on the beach started playing and singing that song as if I knew it all along. I think I played it about three times when I felt a hand on my shoulder and a female voice singing with me softly. I turned around and saw a curly blond girl who whispered: “Better get back to sleep, we can continue this in the morning.”
When I woke up in the morning, I saw that blond smiling at me from her sleeping bag.
 “We can continue singing,” she said.
 “I’d love too,” I replied, “but we are on a schedule. We need to get to Sharem before dark today. What’s your name?”
 “Yafa.”
 “I tell you what, give me your phone number and I will be happy to play for you when I get back.”

   We walked from the beach back to the road hoping to catch a ride south to Sharem. Not many cars were driving south that early in the morning. It took about half hour before a small motor home stopped next to us. It had a foreign plate – I thought from Germany.
 “Shalom!” The old couple said in unison. “Ras Mohamad?” They had European accent, now I was almost sure Germany. Ras Mohamad was exactly where we wanted to go. It was south of Sharem El Sheikh. It was a divers’ haven and that is exactly what we wanted to do. We heard so many stories about it.
 “Yes! that is precisely where we want to go.” I answered in my broken English. Buch spoke better English but he was shy.
 “Great! Said the old man. “We have never been here before and we thought you soldiers should know the way better than us. No one wants to get lost in this desert. Find yourself a seat here in the back”
 “Where are you from?” asked Buch quietly.
 “Holland”
 “You drove all the way from Holland?” I asked surprised.
 “Oh yes, we managed to get a special pass so we can cross the border with Lebanon.”
 “Wow! We both said.
 “How long did it take you?”
 “We left six months ago. It is our retirement trip. We drove through Europe to Turkey down to Syria and Lebanon. And now we are in Israel.”
 “How are you planning to go back? You know, once you have an Israeli stamp on your passport, you will never be able to go to an Arab country.”
 “We know,” said the older lady, “We will sell the camper here and fly back home. I think I had enough camping food. Sorry, forgive my roundness, would you like some tea?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, she got up and walked to where she kept a thermos and poured two cups of tea for us.
 “Sugar, milk?
 “Two teaspoons please,” we both said, “no milk.”
The road south was just breath taking, on the right we had the sand dunes or rocky hills and on the left the turquoise color of the Red Sea. By the way, there is nothing Red about the red sea; It was originally called the sea of reeds. I guess someone dropped one of the “Es” …

    Sharem was a small Fishermen village with a few military bases. One airport and a few navy boats in a small harbor. We filled up gas and asked for directions to Ras Mohamad. The Gas station attendant drew a map for us. We decided to stay overnight in Sharem and tackle the rest of the way early in the morning.

    There was no paved road leading to that site, not yet. The RV was jumping up and down, side to side and everything was rattling but that little camper managed the bumpy road pretty well. About an hour after we left Sharem we made it to the tip of the Sinai Peninsula. There was nothing there. The only way we could tell that we were in the right place was the flat land with tire marks of other cars parked there before. Dust was rising as we stopped abruptly at the edge of the lot. In front of us was a shallow lagoon with very clear water. We got very excited – even the old couple. I am not sure why they wanted to be there; they didn’t even have snorkels. After all the talk about that spot, I think they believed it was a public place with glass bottom boats like in Eilat’s tourist center. The older man walked with us to the lagoon, his wife stayed to prepare something to eat. She wasn’t much of a swimmer. It turned out nor was he. I lent him my mask, he put it on and bent over to the water, dipped his head in and got up a few second later. I felt bad for them. Driving all the way to here and not trying to see the view.

    Buch and I started walking backward with our fins on. Once we got to water above our knees we turned around and started looking for fish and coral. There was almost nothing. Besides a few really colorful fish and some dead corals nothing was really exciting. “Is that what everyone’s talking about” I thought to myself. I was sure Buch was thinking the same because he as making signs like going back to shore. Far at the edge of the lagoon was a little almost straight ripple of water.
 “What’s that?” I asked Buch.
 “How do I know, probably nothing, let’s go back and join the old folks.”
 “I’d like to check that.” I said and without waiting for his reply started swimming to the direction of the ripple. Buch was frustrated but came behind me. As we approached the ripple it looked like the water behind it was getting darker, much darker. It was almost scary, I felt that if I pass the ripple, I will fall over a cliff. As impossible for a thing like that to happen I approached slowly, but once I passed the cliff, I gasped and forgot to breath for a long while.

    The cliff was facing east. It was about two hundred meter deep. The sun was shining at it and once I turned around to face the wall, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Buch arrived just behind me and almost swallowed a gallon of water. The entire wall was made out of corals, red and yellow, blue and green. Anemones of any color I could think of were big and bright. In the mixt of all this were fish. Big parrot fish shining in green and blue nibling on the corals. Clown fish were hiding in the anemones and so much more. I took a deep breath and dove deep while a school of shining yellow golden fish were surrounding me. it felt like I could reach and touch them. Yet even when they were all around me, they kept just enough distance so we couldn’t touch each other. I will never forget that experience and I don’t think I will ever finish describing here what I have seen or how I felt. I just felt bad for our new friends who were missing that experience. Buch and I were very thankful to the old couple who drove us back all the way to Eilat where we stayed at a military hotel just north of the town before continuing home.

***

 

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”
 “Zehavah, 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!”
 
    Juckie and I became good friends, he taught me how to make sure the diving gear is in good shape and how to fill the tanks with air, and how to dive before the pilots were ready for the course. He wanted me to be his assistant, and I loved every moment of it. Yankale and Oren didn’t care so much about SCUBA so I took every advantage I could learning everything about this wonderful sport.

    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.

 

***

 

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