Special reinforcement

The gates of Sadnat Azur army base in Holon, south of Tel Aviv, swing open for two minibuses transporting 18 youths. Base commander Major Yeshayahu Buhbut welcomes them. Minutes later, the group is divided into two: one half goes to work in the kitchen; the other goes to help out in the supplies storeroom.

For this group of teenagers and young adults, donning an IDF shirt and working at the base for several hours each week is a dream come true. Pupils at the Hartsfield School for the Handicapped in Holon, they suffer from an array of disabilities such as muscular dystrophy, cerebral palsy, and motoric handicaps due to severe head injuries sustained in road accidents. Some can walk, while others are confined to wheelchairs.

Three years ago, Or Schreiber, a teacher at the school, was asked to organize a program that would allow the children and young adults to do voluntary work for several hours a week in what is known as a "commitment project". Schreiber approached the Fire Department, Magen David Adom (Israel's First Aid Services), senior citizens' homes and other organizations, seeking a framework that would suit the pupils. "Every place shut the door in my face, and told me to write letters. Then I recalled the IDF base, which is near the school, and one morning I went there and demanded to speak to the commander. I explained about the program and received an immediate positive response," she says.

Since then, every Tuesday the pupils arrive accompanied by Schreiber and her two assistants, Dorit Angel and Rahel Shoukrun.

Luba, 19, was one of the first to participate in the program. "This is my dream come true. Without Or, I wouldn't be wearing army clothing and serving here," she says as she sets the tables in the dining hall. She recalls how her brother used to laugh at her for working without pay. "I just told him that I work in order to give. I enjoy working in the kitchen; wherever they tell me to work, I am happy."

There's a bustle of activity in the dining room, and the group of teenagers chatter cheerfully. Schreiber flits from one to the other, assisting if necessary. Eighteen-year-old Yossi assists the soldiers emptying cans, washing utensils, even cooking. "He loves the job here," says Schreiber.

The project boosts the pupils' morale, motivates them, and teaches them to work together as a team, she explains. "At first, the families didn't believe me when I told them their children would work in the army. But the work has helped them to overcome their disabilities; they perceive themselves as emissaries."

Amos Asher, head of the IDF base kitchen for eight years, is clearly fond of the youths. "I call them my soldiers. They are happy and enjoy the work." He adds, "In the beginning, I felt sorry for them, but very quickly I saw they were more capable than some of the soldiers on the base. Maybe that was the reason that some of the soldiers had difficulty in accepting them at first. However, since becoming involved with the pupils, I am more tolerant when I meet disabled people. I no longer judge them by their disabilities, but focus on them as equals."

For Asher and Buhbut, the link with the pupils is not confined to the base. They attend functions at the school, and invite the kids to participate in memorial ceremonies and tree-planting events at the base.

In the storeroom, the second group sits around tables sorting out bolts and screws and putting them into plastic bags. Meir, the officer in charge of the storeroom, notes that their work saves additional IDF manpower. "They help us and they help society," he says, adding, "Soldiers here at first were hesitant, but in time they saw that they were doing such a good job, the general atmosphere turned into a positive one. If they were not here, I would have to order soldiers to carry out the jobs these kids do so willingly."

Cpl. Pnina Carmeli watches the youths working busily at the table. Carmeli is no stranger to the group; she was a pupil at the school from first grade. She took part in the same project, and worked at the base where she now serves as the company commander's secretary. She has suffered from partial paralysis since birth, but the only physical sign that can be detected is a slightly bent right arm. Carmeli, who was recruited last September, fought for 20 months to be drafted. "I finished school, and was told I was exempt from service. I cried and cried and wrote letters pleading to be drafted. Teachers at the school and officers here at the base also wrote on my behalf," she recalls.

Every Tuesday, apart from her normal duties, she supervises the group, makes sure they all receive army fatigues and, if necessary, calls on soldiers to help those who need assistance in moving from place to place. Carmeli says that since her enlistment, the army has transformed her into an independent, self-assured person. Other pupils at the school perceive her as a role model, and ask how they too can join the army. The battle, she says was not an easy one. "I managed to hold myself upright, but without the support of my family, officers and the school, it would have been much harder."

It's close to noon, and the groups meet in the dining hall where lunch will soon be served. They will eat together with the regular soldiers on the base. Luba would prefer to keep on working. "People must learn how to give and not just expect to receive. This is not about working for a salary, but working for satisfaction."