My son gets a better offer from the army
Or so it seems.
After returning alone from NY, shlepping books and a plane ticket with a date different from the one on his itinerary (they managed to get him on the flight anyway), he found a message from modiin (the army intelligence division). We had been told that the most interesting and intellectually stimulating job in the army is mechkar modiin or intelligence research, but he hadn’t heard from them and we had just about given up. The message said he needed to answer a few questions by a certain date, after which they will presumably invite him for tests.
He took tests at the army’ computer division headquarters recently. If he did well (and they said that most of the recruits who get to that stage pass) he may be eligible for a pre-army six-month programming course lasting 15 hours a day (7am-10pm). They claimed that the course would cost NIS 90,000 were it offered in Israel, which it isn’t. After that, he would serve three full years in whatever division they sent him to, and commit himself to an additional 2.5 years of “keva,” (a translation escapes me at the moment, but it means that he would work more reasonable hours and draw a regular salary).
He would need to undergo security clearance. (“Does your mother have a blog?”)
All of the division headquarters are in the Tel Aviv area so he could live at home (“until I get married”). At the end of all this, graduates, hand-picked by the army for their skills with five years programming experience under their belt, are snapped up by employers. He likes that idea.
Our friend, who served in “keva,” told him that the most frustrating part of being in keva as opposed to civilian life is that you must do things according to army regulations, no matter how ridiculous.
According to my son, they will hold his place in the course even if he wants to stay in yeshiva for twenty years. I reminded him that he had previously mentioned ten years. He replied: Maalin bakodesh ve-lo moridin.*
*Rationale used by the sage Hillel for increasing the number of Chanukah candles each night instead of the reverse.





