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| Magazine Feature |

You’re in the Army Now

A frum army chaplain eases the path for Jewish recruits, and anyone with religious needs

Jewish recruits to the US military are often caught off guard if their sergeant has never met a Jew, halal meat is interchanged with kosher, and someone calls the bomb squad when he puts on tefillin. US Army Chaplain Dovid Egert is there to ease the path of Jewish soldiers, but not only – he’s there to provide for any soldier’s religious needs

Private Weiss was finishing his first day in basic training, and he was hungry. Heading into the commissary, he requested a kosher MRE — military parlance for “meal, ready to eat,” the shelf-stable packaged food served to troops in the field — only to be told that there were none. He was directed toward the nearest chaplain for assistance.

The chaplain — who wasn’t Jewish — asked him, “Did you request kosher MREs? Did you note that you’re Jewish on your registration paperwork?”

The private sheepishly responded that he hadn’t — he’d just assumed that it would be obvious from his name and yarmulke that he was Jewish, and everyone would understand that he needed religious accommodations. The chaplain helped him amend his paperwork and request kosher MREs, but it took about two weeks until they were delivered.

Military life can be tricky to navigate for the uninitiated, even more so for those, like observant Jews, who require extra accommodation. Mishpacha met with US Army Chaplain Dovid Egert, a frum captain and rabbi currently based in Fort Jackson, South Carolina, for a personal guide to the Jewish experience in the military.

Primed to Serve

Chaplain Egert, originally from Lakewood, New Jersey, was not a little boy who grew up dreaming of being a soldier and shooting the bad guy. “I grew up in a home where public service was part of our DNA, so I knew that I wanted my future job to be something dedicated to public good.”

After witnessing his mother spend 40 years as part of Hatzalah, Chaplain Egert became an EMT. However, he didn’t feel he had found his niche — so when Pirchei Shoshanim approached him about applying to their chaplain certification program, he jumped at the offer. Since the military doesn’t know what semichah is, nor does it even have the capacity to determine what it is, anyone who would like to apply to become a Jewish chaplain first needs to be endorsed by one of the three certifying agencies that work with the military. The Aleph Institute primarily works with Chabad; the Jewish Welfare Board works with all denominations ranging from Orthodox to Reconstructionist, and Pirchei Shoshanim — based in Lakewood, New Jersey — certifies those who are frum.

While each organization has its own list of standards and qualifications — Aleph Institute requires all graduates to have a Chabad beard, Jewish Welfare Board requires completion of its theological training course, and Pirchei Shoshanim requires semichah — they all expect the applicant to have a master’s degree. Most candidates choose theology. Completing the program takes about three years, after which the endorsing agency has to sign a Form-2088 certifying that the candidate is an ordained minister of his respective religious group.

The experience of Private Weiss (name was changed) is fairly typical for a religious soldier who did not adequately prepare for his enlistment, says the chaplain. Many of these men come from the East Coast, where Jewish people are ubiquitous and kosher food is easily obtainable. But the US Army recruits personnel from all over the country, and the vast majority of them have never met a Jew in their life.

“That trainee from Idaho?” Chaplain Egert says, smiling. “He thinks your yarmulke is to cover up a bald spot.” (A new soldier is called a trainee, until they graduate the ten-week basic training. Only then will they have the honor of being called a “Soldier,” which is capitalized in Army usage.)

And although the Army is very respectful about fulfilling the religious needs of its troops, it runs on deeply ingrained rules and protocols necessary to maintain a fighting force… the majority of which is not Jewish. In fact, according to a 2019 Department of Defense study, only 0.4 percent of all military personnel identify as Jewish. So while accommodations could be made for kosher food and Yom Tov observance, these tend to be the exception, not the rule, and need to be approved on a case-by-case basis. There are no extra kosher meals waiting in the freezer.

The go-to address for assistance on any religious issue would be one’s unit’s chaplain. While the number of chaplains on any base is proportional to the number of personnel stationed there, not every religion is necessarily represented by an affiliated chaplain. The Army deploys chaplains strictly on an as-needed basis, irrespective of specific religious denominations — so a Jewish chaplain cannot count on being assigned to a unit with a lot of Jews.

“It’s more of a, ‘hey, we need a chaplain, we’ll just send you’ situation,” explains Chaplain Egert.

So the chances of a Jewish soldier having access to a Jewish chaplain isn’t incredibly likely (although the larger bases tend to have Jewish chaplains). According to Egert, the US Army has only about 11 Jewish chaplains (male and female) on active duty worldwide. Of those 11, only around eight identify as shomer Shabbos.

Every chaplain’s uniform has an insignia indicating religious affiliation — Jews have a Luchos symbol, Christians have a cross, Muslims have a moon, and Buddhists have a wheel — but a chaplain is not limited to only helping members of his or her own religion. A chaplain’s primary job is to provide religious assistance to whoever needs his help. At the start of his first deployment, Chaplain Egert was under the impression that he was only responsible for administering to the needs of the Jewish soldiers.

“I thought I would have the easiest job at the place,” he recounts with a chuckle. “There were maybe 30 Jews, tops, so I could check in on them once for a few minutes, and be done for the week.”

That was not the case. Chaplain Egert has been the only Jew on base many times throughout his career, but he always assists all of the roughly 500 to 2,000 soldiers of various religious affiliations under his responsibility — like helping a Muslim soldier obtain clearance to wear a hijab, for example.

As a chaplain, he is required to be familiar enough with all religions to know whether a soldier’s request is legitimate. For example, the beard waiver. While in the past all troops were required to be clean-shaven, a soldier is now permitted to wear a beard if he gets approved for a waiver. However, one can only grow out his facial hair once the waiver is in place — no exceptions.

“I’ll meet with the applicant and see if the desire to grow a beard is based on religious needs, or if he just wants to take part in ‘No-shave November,’ ” explains Chaplain Egert, referring to the month-long challenge to raise awareness of cancer research. “We get a lot of men who try to use religion as a cover for ‘No-shave November.’ ”

The second function of his job is serving as a sort of communal rabbi to Jewish soldiers — which is only relevant if there are Jewish soldiers on base. But according to Chaplain Egert, nearly every base has Jews: “It’s just a matter of shaking them out.”

His rabbinical duties consist of setting up the chapel for Shabbos and Yom Tov services, and preparing a weekly drashah. His Friday night Shabbos service currently draws 25 to 30 trainees (as well as a few Soldiers), people the chaplain jokingly refers to as his “captive audience.” Not everyone in the crowd is Jewish, some are drawn by the promise of challah and grape juice — rare snacks on the rigid basic-training menu.

In Chaplain Egert’s experience, many Jewish soldiers don’t want to be religious; in fact, they joined the army to escape their community and the expectations on them. But they eventually get lonely and seek him out.

“I have a soldier whose parents are frum, and he joined the army ‘trying to find himself,’ ” Chaplain Egert admits. While the soldier doesn’t keep yet Shabbos or kosher, “he doesn’t miss a single Friday night service, because a part of him still yearns to be part of something bigger than himself. People are designed to search for connection.”

Reality Check

One might imagine that a fresh army trainee boards a bus that ships him right off to basic training, where he gets shouted at by a buzz-cut drill sergeant for ten weeks. But Chaplain Egert says that’s inaccurate. All new trainees are first assigned to one of four reception units across the country for a five-day orientation.

For trainees assigned to Fort Jackson (which gets an annual average of 60,000 trainees), the process goes like this: They fly to the airport in Columbia, South Carolina, and are immediately met by their drill sergeant. (If they don’t show up for orientation within 30 days of their ship date, there will be a warrant for their arrest.) The trainees are first greeted with a shakedown: All their possessions are examined for contraband, and only preapproved items are returned (home-cooked meals from Mom are not allowed because some cookies in the past have contained marijuana). Trainees are given a uniform, haircut, and their paperwork is set in order.

While the army recruiter (the person whose job is to help people enlist into the military) is supposed to fill out the forms ahead of time to request religious accommodations (kosher/halal, beards, religious headgear, etc.), sometimes they don’t. The reception process is the recruit’s last opportunity to make sure the record is accurate before he steps foot in basic training.

It is technically possible to keep kosher in the Army, but since the military draws personnel from all over the country, Chaplain Egert notes that in practice it is very challenging. There are no classes about how to care for Jewish troops — even chaplain training doesn’t cover Judaism. The military does not understand what makes food kosher or non-kosher, and it certainly is not cognizant of the difference between regular kosher meals and special kosher-for-Pesach ones.

Chaplain Egert adds that very few know that halal and kosher are not interchangeable. “I had a chaplain bring me a halal meal and ask me to bless it so it would become kosher. They think all the rabbi needs to do is wave his hand around the plate.”

After the kashrus question, the second-most frequently asked question about Army service that Chaplain Egert gets is how shemiras Shabbos works. And the answer is… it’s complicated, because there are no “off days” in the military. During basic training, there’s a system in place called POI (for “program of instruction”), under which a trainee has a set number of mandatory training hours that he needs to fulfill in order to graduate. If a trainee doesn’t meet his hourly quota within the ten weeks of basic training, he’s discharged. And it’s impossible to meet the quota if one stays in his barracks for Shabbos.

While Shabbos and Sundays tend to be more laid back (by military standards), there still is mandatory training on Shabbos — with no exceptions. As such, under  normal circumstances, the military is no place for a nice, frum Jewish boy. This is why Chaplain Egert urges those who are nevertheless considering a military career to speak to their LOR for guidance and approval first. It is impossible to navigate the minefield of shemiras Shabbos in the military without help.

Fortunately, Chaplain Egert has it down to a science. “My family doesn’t live on base — we live a couple miles away. So Friday night, I do a service at 1800 [6 p.m.], and then afterwards I walk the five miles home. I can’t carry anything with me, because while the base is considered to be an eiruv — it’s entirely fenced in — the minute I leave, I’m in the next town. There’s no eiruv from the base to the Jewish community we live in.”

Since the chaplain doesn’t have to work on Shabbos, he davens at the local Chabad shul. However, he has to be available if there’s an emergency, or if there’s a prescheduled event. “If there’s an emergency that requires me to be at work, my religious affairs specialist [assistant] will come to my house to get me, and depending on the situation, I’ll either walk or get into his car.”

While the chaplain is there to assist once trainees enlist, he urges them to consider all possibilities and have a game plan for Shabbos and kashrus before they do so.

Alone in a Big World

While we’re on the subject of trainees having no freedom of choice, the chaplain addresses another misconception. “I know people who have enlisted under the assumption that they will be placed in bases with a large Jewish population, or somewhere near a Chabad house.” But that’s not likely to happen.

Potential Jewish trainees need to understand that being Jewish in the army can be a lonely experience, and they must work under the assumption that they won’t find many coreligionists. The Army places personnel according to their needs — soldiers have absolutely no say in the matter. This also extends to deployment overseas as part of a US military action. Chaplains have been shipped off to Afghanistan the day after graduation.

Chaplain Egert was recently involved with a soldier who assumed he wouldn’t be deployed as he was in the reserves. So he scheduled a Birthright trip. Guess who got deployed the day he was supposed to leave? In the chaplain’s experience, many Jewish soldiers join cybersecurity and intelligence units because they think they’ll be safe — and are always in for the shock of their lives when they’re sent abroad. The country doesn’t need to be at war for soldiers to be deployed — many troops are stationed overseas for training or as a deterrent. No position guarantees you’re staying stateside. Anyone in a uniform is deployable.

Military life requires constant reassessment and creativity when it comes to family decisions. While some families always deploy together; Jewish ones have many factors to consider — especially if there are children involved. Chaplain Egert’s family has done it both ways. “If I were to get deployed, it would depend on whether the location was safe, and if there was an active Jewish community there. The last time I was deployed to Europe, my family stayed back stateside, on base with a Jewish community.”

However, not every Jewish community has all the necessities that a growing family needs — the local community doesn’t have a full K-12 school yet. Therefore, the Egerts had to make the difficult decision to have their son complete his education elsewhere. “My older son lives with his grandparents in Lakewood, so he can attend yeshivah. It’s not easy for any of us, so we make sure to travel to see him as often as possible. My younger one is in a Jewish local day care, so schooling isn’t an issue now. Since the average cycle of base-living is three years, a military spouse needs a flexible job if they want to stay together as a family.

As the Army tends to attract those of a more conservative ideology, it’s reasonable to wonder if Jewish soldiers are exposed to the rampant, extreme right-wing anti-Semitism that is spreading worldwide. Chaplain Egert says that he personally has not been, but he stresses that as an officer (everyone who starts chaplain training is awarded the rank of first lieutenant and are promoted to captain six months after graduation), he is not an obvious target. The military is big on rank and hierarchy, so an enlisted soldier attempting to bully an officer would be committing career suicide. While he assumes it does happen to enlisted Jewish soldiers, anti-Semitic incidents are not something that one would want to report — no one wants to gain the reputation of being a snitch or “too weak to handle it.”

In the chaplain’s opinion, most minor cases of anti-Semitism stem from ignorance or curiosity, not malice. As he explains, “Remember, you don’t need a college degree to enlist, and most Jewish population centers are clustered in specific parts of the country. The average American has never met a Jew in their life.”

Additionally, some cases of anti-Semitism that have been reported to him ended up being nothing more than coarse language.

Chaplain Egert recalls, “A private once came to me crying ‘anti-Semitism’ because his squadmate cursed at him. I had to tell him, ‘That’s not anti-Semitism, that is the Army.’ ”

Watch the Calendar

So how does a Jewish soldier find the chaplain? It depends. During basic training, ask the drill sergeant (in basic training, the drill sergeant is the one you to go for everything). He’ll know what to do. However, once the soldier is settled on base, the soldier’s unit chaplain is the go-to address. (And if there isn’t a Jewish chaplain around, the unit chaplain will contact a Jewish one, or the closest Jewish leader for assistance). Chaplains can be liaisons with supervisors, they can help find local shuls, and provide counseling for homesick soldiers.

The chaplain recommends that all new Jewish soldiers explain the relevant parts of Judaism to their superiors, so they understand why accommodations are necessary. However, if they don’t feel comfortable doing it themselves, chaplains are willing to play go-between. Having a chaplain as an intermediary gives the request legitimacy, as soldiers have been known to invent “holidays” to get a break.

(He advises that soldiers show their immediate superiors a calendar with the dates of major Yamim Tovim — Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Succos, Pesach, Shavuos — so they can be aware of the days they might need leave or some exceptions.)

After all, if the commander is made aware that Yom Kippur exists, he won’t get irritated if someone asks for a “random Tuesday” off. However just because a Soldier requests an accommodation for Yom Tov doesn’t guarantee that it will be granted: mission-critical training trumps all.

Another challenge for a Jewish soldier is that one’s supervisor isn’t his mashgiach — he’s not going to remind him that tomorrow is a fast day. A soldier must keep an eye out and request time off within the required framework. Kosher for Pesach MREs can take four months to arrive — if the order is not in on time, there will be problems. If the soldier forgets, the unit forgets.

Chaplain Egert gives another example of a challenge facing a frum soldier.

“Putting on tefillin is wonderful, but if a soldier doesn’t explain why he has ‘wires’ all over his arms, someone will call the bomb squad.” The chaplain laughs as he remembers the first time he wore his tallis on a very rural base. “Someone called the MPs because he thought he saw a ghost.”

All joking aside, it’s understandable why many Jewish soldiers don’t speak up. Basic training is hard, and they’re afraid of putting a target on themselves if they show they’re different. However, the chaplain concludes, “If they don’t ask for help, no one will know what is needed.”

 

Yarmulkes are allowed under regulation, but white tzitzis with white strings are a no-no because they don’t blend in with camouflage. Chaplain Egert ended up working with a man in Flatbush to turn his military-issued tan-499 T-shirt into kosher tzitzis. This allows the chaplain to be within uniform regulation, and he tucks the strings into his waistband.

 

Veteran Snapshots:

Yeoman Effort
Name: Sgt Bentzion Glixman
Branch: Coast Guard, Air Force
Time In Service: 10+ years
Current Location: Salt Lake City, UT

Why I Joined:

Witnessing my father’s work as an Air Force chaplain sparked a solid interest in military service, so it was only natural for me to head to Eretz Yisrael after my high school graduation to prepare for IDF enlistment. After serving in Nachal Charedi for several years, I relocated back to the US with my wife and I began to look for a job. While I started out in the private sector, I was leaning toward a career with the military due to my background… and the unmatched pay and benefits. After speaking with a few recruiters, I decided to pursue the part-time job opportunity offered to me by the Coast Guard as a yeoman, or military HR administrator.

What My Service Entailed:

As a yeoman, my work was entirely office-based, and it felt like any other office job except that it still held much of the standard military formality. I continued rising in rank for five or six years before taking a lateral position in the Air Force doing the same type of work, except that I would now be full-time and receive additional benefits plus greater growth opportunities.

Biggest Challenge:

Once I was a full-time employee, I was obligated to move to whatever base at which my commanders determined I was most needed, although I was still able to list a few preferred options. Imagine my surprise when I received a notice saying that my family and I would be relocated to an Air Force Base… in Utah. This was a challenge I had never expected, but my wife and I were determined to make the best of the situation.

Ally in Arms:

Whenever there was a scheduling conflict or other issue related to my Jewish obligations, I could usually rely on one of the non-Jewish chaplains to step in and make special requests on my behalf. Because of their officer status, chaplains are generally able to exert greater influence on the base commanders who have the authority to approve things like time off or other special dispensations.

My biggest challenge occurred when the base was hosting a public event for civilians to come and watch an air show while enjoying attractions and refreshments. This event was to be held on Shabbos, and it was considered a top priority, for PR reasons. I was ordered to show up at 9 a.m. sharp and spend the day manning the snow cone machine.

Long story short, I was able to get switched to a gate duty position that wouldn’t involve any chillul Shabbos, but I was still dreading the three-hour walk to the base and spending my entire Shabbos sitting in the sun checking visitors IDs. Ironically, after I had jumped through multiple hoops to fix this situation, I was summarily informed on Erev Shabbos that my services were no longer needed for the event.

His Current Mission:

Sgt Glixman, recently retired, lives in Layton, Utah, near Hill Air Force Base. He is considering making aliyah so he can continue using his military experience to benefit the Jewish People during our time of need.

Stirring the Jewish Soul
Name: Ssgt Ben Craig
Branch: US Marine Corps
Time In Service:9+ years
Current Location: Washington, DC

Why I Joined:

Growing up in Boston, I regularly heard stories of both of my grandfathers’ heroic actions during their service in World War II. Although my family had a strong Jewish identity, our lack of observance led me on a search for meaning and structure as I grew older, and the military path began to appeal to me more and more. I knew I was smart and had a good work ethic, so I sought out the most demanding military service I could find — the US Marines, who were said to be the toughest of the tough.

My Jewish identity was never a factor during most of my military career, primarily because I knew next to nothing about what being Jewish actually meant. While I would have admitted to being Jewish if I were asked directly, it was never something I felt worth mentioning.

What My Service Entailed:

I was hired as a communications expert, building and maintaining radio systems both offshore and in the field during several deployments. I would regularly spend seven to eight months in the Mediterranean or the Red Sea with roughly 2,000 sailors and officers who were ready to deploy at the first sign of regional unrest. As various detachments moved from ship to shore and back, I was in charge of making sure that everyone could communicate with everyone else effectively.

I later entered the field of what was called “human intelligence,” which entailed cultivating a network of contacts to provide useful information to US military commanders and generals. These contacts involve developing and maintaining either positive or negative relationships — whatever yields the best results and serves the US in the best way. The flipside of this position is counter-intelligence, which means protecting American assets from similar types of manipulation.

Ally in Arms:

Though I never experienced much curiosity about my faith, I began to explore Judaism more thoroughly when I was stationed at a base in Okinawa, off the coast of Japan. A Jewish Air Force chaplain, Rabbi Levy Pekar, was hosting a Chanukah candle lighting event, and I decided to check it out, as I was feeling somewhat homesick.

This brief encounter turned into a steady stream of Friday night meals and long walks during which Rabbi Pekar answered all of my questions and stirred my Jewish neshamah in a way I had never felt before. I spent the next several years further exploring my newfound inspiration, and thanks to my advanced rank by that point, I had little trouble procuring kosher foods and other Jewish necessities.

On one occasion, I was sent for a six-month stint to Taiwan, where I became acquainted with Rabbi Shlomi Tabib, head of the Chabad organization in Taipei. Under his guidance, and with the help of a few friends I had made along the way, I was able to formally celebrate my bar mitzvah… at the age of 27. By the time I returned to Okinawa, Rabbi Pekar had moved on, and I was able to assume a position of lay leadership for the other Jewish soldiers from various branches who found themselves on the same island.

His Current Mission:

Ssgt Craig has recently moved from Okinawa back to the US, and continues his spiritual journey toward establishing an observant home and family while continuing his important work domestically.

Bearing Witness
Name: SFC Baruch Baitch
Branch: US Army
Time In Service: 19+ years
Current Location: Washington, DC

Why I Joined:

The US Army was always intertwined with my personal family history, so as a kid, I looked up to soldiers. I dressed up as one every Purim, and that was what I wanted to be when I grew up. For my uncle who participated in D-Day during World War II, and my bubby (who was a refugee to the US on one of the last Kindertransport shipments), I felt a responsibility and a debt to the country that had shown my ancestors such kindness.

The impetuses for me to finally enlist were 9/11 (which happened when I was in yeshivah in Crown Heights) and the Iraq War. I heard firsthand accounts of Iraqi citizens and US Marines toppling Saddam Hussein’s statue, and it inspired me. America had been attacked, and I felt the drive to do my part to create a safer world, and bring the fight to America’s enemies.

What My Service Entailed:

My first job in the Army, and easily the worst job I ever held, was my time as a supply truck driver. I volunteered for it since I wanted to join the action, and drivers were essentially guaranteed quick deployments overseas. Supply lines had been a primary target for attack, and drivers were in high demand.

I enjoyed my second tour much more. My job as an infantry scout was a lot more in line with my expectations. I enjoyed the risk and the danger. I had to successfully infiltrate enemy lines with a small advance squad, and take note of high-value targets and potential ambushes. I felt like I was making a difference.

Biggest Challenge:

The isolation and loneliness of being Jewish in the Army is constant and crushing. Having a different value system, eating different food, not being able to perform the same work the same way on the same days… Eventually I began to slip in my observance, being so far away from everything I knew that connected me to my Jewish background.

Ally in Arms:

My spiritual path might have continued on this downward spiral if not for the kind and caring intervention of CH Walcott, a Baptist chaplain who accompanied us into the field. Throughout my service, the chaplains where I was stationed always understood my religious needs much more than the average soldier.

CH Walcott bore witness to my slow descent into assimilation, and he never hesitated to call me out on it. He would offer to procure kosher MREs for me and ask me how I was keeping up with my own traditions. Most importantly, in his own kind way, he never let me forget that I was different from my fellow servicemen, no matter how hard I tried to fit in. After his untimely death, I was inspired to do everything I could to return to my roots as an observant Jew.

His Current Mission:

SFC Baitch lives in Washington, D.C., with his family, and is now serving in a leadership advisory role in the Pentagon. He formally retired from the Army in early 2025, and is strongly considering moving to Israel to continue his military work.

 

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1068)

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