Even amid coronavirus shutdown, you’re in the army now

I left my 100-square-meter universe for the first time in a week Wednesday morning.The occasion was driving my youngest son to his drop-off point where he was going to be introduced to his life for the next 30 months – as a soldier in the IDF.Induction day is certainly challenging in the best of times. And these are certainly not the best of times.You’re giving up your baby who you nurtured for 18 years to a rigid, unsympathetic system that doesn’t care what his favorite food is or that he likes to sleep late on Wednesdays. It fills a parent with trepidation. And in the age of corona, that anxiety is amplified.The drill is familiar, having repeated it with three older children and with my own induction as a “shlav bet” elder back in 1990.Families are gathered around their babies, hugging and kissing, and stuffing his pockets with homemade baked goods and going-away presents. Soldiers at the entrance to the parking lot are directing vehicular and human traffic in a chaotic but controlled dance that foreshadows the next three years of improvised orders and army logic.The difference this time is that the soldiers are wearing gloves and masks, and the parents are reaching up to give elbow bumps to their tall babies, although some mothers couldn’t resist breaking social distancing norms and grabbing one last bear hug.There’s always a noticeable lack of ceremony on induction day, no speeches or “don’t worry, we’ll take care of your child” pep talks, or even an explanation of what’s in store for the new recruits. A shutdown induction day is even more impersonal, because there’s no hanging around, watching your baby head off, commiserating with other parents or waving at the buses. Just drop them off and leave.With the army adapting to the new coronavirus realities, there’s talk that after their first day, Wednesday’s recruits will be immediately escorted to their homes for two weeks of quarantine, and then a full month away from home for the start of basic training.So, we may have our son home for a while longer. Still, when he returns home at night, in his crisp ‘Alef’ uniform, still-shiny black boots and severe haircut, he’ll no longer just be our baby. He'll be a soldier.What a difference a day makes.