A medic. Anti-Air battery operator.
That's what I did from when I was 18 to 21, conscripted like the majority of young men (half grown boys) in my country.
Personally, the service was hard but never traumatic but I want to share a single incident on the day I was enlisted.
It was the 2nd of August, 2006. The Second Lebanese War was raging in full strength, I was completely clueless though scared shitless.
They gave me an Air-Force uniform, a beige colored and stiff looking uniform, with a grey beret.
Never experienced any grief or saw any real grief before that day.
And there was this guy, don't know his name but he was with us. Jolly fella, joking around and telling us about what we should expect from the military.
Apparently he knew a thing or two about the military. I only now realized how he knew, from his brothers who were enlisted already and probably shared experiences with him.
And on that day, only about an hour after I met him he was told that one of his brothers was killed in Lebanon on that very morning.
Shocked, I watched him. There my reality of everything completely changed, shattered my relatively peaceful existence.
A man who has lost something dear to him, irreplaceable. In tears and shattered.
Can't forget that day or that guy.