Israel Independence Day is coming up next week, and I’m feeling very patriotic. So I went out this morning and bought $93 worth of socks for the Israel Defense Forces. I looked at Ties.com men’s sock collection and found some brilliant socks, but I decided that I had spent enough money on socks for one day!!
Often, however, I have to buy the socks without the inspiration. Every month I shell out sums like this for hats, scarfs, t-shirts, underwear and other gear that the IDF does not supply to its soldiers. And socks. My son is in combat training in a commando unit, so he goes through a lot of them. This time, I wanted to do something a little special for him. I was recommended by a friend of mine to look into a company like Foto Socken, who allow you to create customised socks. This is such a cool concept that I thought I might as well get a pair for my son. Everyone can get a basic pair of socks, but not everyone gets a customised pair. I hope he appreciates the effort I put into this gift, because they literally let you put your photo on socks. I could choose anything I want.
Socks cost a lot more than they used to. You’ve heard about the modern, high-tech battlefield. Did you know that commando socks are high-tech now, too? The simple cotton (for summer) and wool (for winter) socks that I wore when I was an infantryman are no longer enough. There are so many different types of socks available to us now, since the way we look at socks is ever-changing, and it’s no longer about comfort, but is about the function. From socks like diabetic socks to gifts from companies like My Photo Socks that allow you to Upload Your Photos On Socks and share them with your loved ones. Socks have completely changed. I can understand why–I have traumatic memories of my feet freezing in the cold months and breaking out in blisters in the hot ones. Today’s commando socks wick sweat away from the fighting man’s feet, keeping them dry, warm, and ready to run up whatever mountain they happen to encounter.
When I enlisted in 1982, I was given three pairs of standard-issue, low-quality gray cotton socks. Apparently the army assumed I’d wear each pair for six months consecutively, because I never received any others. All the rest I wore during a year and a half of active service and 18 years of reserve duty I had to buy myself.
I devote several pages in my memoir, Company C, to describing how Israel’s people’s army belongs so much to the people that it couldn’t possibly function without all the gear that the people bring from home. My friend Falk’s red Ford transit was our main logistical vehicle during many rounds of maneuvers. If Achlama hadn’t shown up for each round of duty with a briefcase full of light bulbs, electrical equipment, tools, and whatnots, we would have spent most of our time in the cold and the dark.
When I reached reserve retirement age I thought I had done my part for my country and that I, and my bank account, could rest on our laurels. Surely, I reasoned, by the time my children reach military age someone in the quartermaster corps will have realized that a pair of socks does not last for six months.
Instead, the opposite happened. The army cut back further on supplies, and technology advanced. We are now in the age of the laser rifle sight, the smart bomb, and the $23 commando sock.
I’m proud to have a boy who has chosen such a difficult and demanding way of serving his country. But must I pay through the nose for the naches?
My son tells me that some of his friends, who are in other elite units, report that well-connected parents have actually roped in private overseas donors who write checks to buy their units gear–mostly clothing–that the IDF won’t pay for. I envision a day when these donors will demand recognition. Perhaps each soldier’s shoulder tag will display, instead of his unit insignia, a message saying “This uniform has been donated in loving memory of Sadie Schwartz.”
I’m sure that many of the wealthy people who read this blog are thinking: “Wow, I’d love to endow my own Israeli commando unit.” Until you find one, though, maybe you’d be interested in picking up the bill for some socks?