In the entire U.S. military there are perhaps 150 Orthodox Jews – and I am one of them. Why am I telling you this? Before I answer that question, I should tell you my story.
I was born in Kiev, Ukraine, and in 1976, when I was five, my parents, my sister and I immigrated to Seattle. When we arrived, Jewish Family Services sent my sister and me to the Seattle Hebrew Academy, an Orthodox day school. I didn’t speak any English so the first few weeks of school were a bit traumatic. I learned quickly, however, that your mom could not pack you a bologna and cheese sandwich for lunch.
My sister and I went to that school for three and a half years until they decided it was time for us to start paying tuition. We could not afford it so we had to transfer to public schools. After that my Jewish involvement waned.
Our family still maintained some connection to Judaism through Chabad. On occasion we would go to Seattle’s Chabad House during the holidays (mostly, I suspect, for the free food and ample vodka). During our early years in Seattle, Chabad did a lot of outreach to our family and helped give me the foundation of my Jewish pride.
For a few years I also attended Chabad day camp during the summers. I think the seeds of my military career were actually planted at that camp, whose theme was that we were young soldiers in the Rebbe’s Army of Hashem.
At twelve I was too old for the camp, but I still continued my education as a mensch. I enlisted myself in the Boy Scouts. I remember lighting Chanukah candles during a Boy Scout winter outing. We were camping for a few days in a cabin in an old mining town, in the north Cascade mountains. I improvised a menorah and insisted on lighting candles in the cabin window to show the other boys that I was Jewish and did not celebrate Christmas.
I was also proud and thankful to be an American. I wanted to serve my country. Specifically, I wanted to join the U.S. military. I read a lot of military and history books, played with toy soldiers and toy guns, and imagined myself a soldier. I also wanted travel and adventure. I decided that as soon as I graduated high school I would enlist.
By nature I was always machmir (strict) and never did anything half-hearted, so joining the regular army was just too easy. I would join the best fighting force in the world, the United States Marines.
The typical Jewish reaction was: “What’s a nice Jewish boy doing in the Marines?” Everyone, especially my parents, thought I was crazy. My parents had escaped the USSR to give me a better life and to avoid my having to serve in the brutal Soviet military.
On February 8, 1989, four days after my eighteenth birthday, I shipped off to Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego.
“All My Jews, Stand Up”
On the third day of boot camp, we were sitting in formation when a mean drill instructor (they are all mean) approached the platoon and barked, “All my Jews, stand up.” I thought to myself, “Here we go, the persecution of the Jews is about to begin.” Out of 87 recruits, I was the only one to stand up. He ordered me to report to a major standing off in the distance, which I nervously did.
I saluted and said, “Sir, Private Ekshtut reporting as ordered, Sir!” He introduced himself as Major Goldberg and explained that only one in a thousand Marines is Jewish. He invited me to attend Friday night services at the nearby Navy chapel.
