BANG...BANG....BANG...BANG.... "Ouch!".
The M16 gun that I'm shooting screams loudly through the sound proof headphones that I'm wearing. I feel the hot metal of a shell casing hit my face, flying sideways from the person's gun next to me as she shoots her 11 rounds as well. I'm not sure what I'm doing with this large murder device, I'm just shooting it to get it done with. I can't stand the smell of the gun smoke, the sound of the bullets leaving the barrel, the feeling of the gun itself, it makes me feel dirty and grimy all over. I finish shooting follow the commands given and sit at attention and wait for further instruction. I hate this part of the reality of being in the army. The running and the push-ups was nothing compared to this. My only motivation to shoot it at all was the thought that it was 11 less bullets that wouldn't kill or hurt someone else.
I go to scratch my leg after I've been let out of the shooting range and realize that it's bleeding. I look over and see why - I had walked into some barbed wire in the rush of the adreneline and hadn't felt it cut my leg. I pour some water over it and let it dry itself out naturally. I take in the pain, seemingly the only thing that this week has brought me.
In our army uniforms we all looked absolutely ridiculous. No worries about the boys being attracted to any of the girls in this outfit, we all look like crosss dressers with no fashion sense. Plus, we're all really gross. You could say I became a really dull blonde during the week of Gadna, or you could take a closer look and simply see all that dust and dirt in my hair from all of the rolling and crawling and crazy other things we where doing in the dirt.
I found things to appreciate though. First off I never once had to worry about clothing, we where all wearing the same general thing, so who cares what you look like! Second we all smell bad, so no one really cares what anyone smells like, we all contribute to the general bad smell. Last but not least, we're all just trying to get through the day without having to do to many extra push-ups or any extra excersize.
After this 4 day taste of army life, I've decided I could - and will - survive basic training. I will survive it because when I make aliyah in another year, if I didn't take time to serve, I wouldn't be able to call myself a citizen, either.
