Here I am again in the Arab Middle East at Chanukah time.

The last time I was here was in 1990-1991 as a marine aboard a Navy ship during the Gulf War. It was Chanukah, so I made a crude menorah out of aluminum foil and lit Chanukah candles in the Persian Gulf.

I am now an Air Force Reserve Chaplain Assistant, providing spiritual support to members of the Air Force and Armed Forces. I was called up to active duty in Iraq, so I am back in the "Sandbox," again at Chanukah time.

As a Chaplain Assistant, it is my duty to provide fellow Jews in the area of operations with an opportunity for religious observance. Shmoozing and scouting, I located a total of five other Jews on our base.

Thanks to donations from friends back home, care packages and the Aleph Institute that provides Jewish holiday supplies to our armed forces,

I had an ample supply of prayer books, menorahs, candles, dreidels, kosher cookies, candy, chocolate coins and goodies, plus several pairs of new care package socks.

The dreidels were also popular with the non-Jews. They all wanted one. Passing them out, I had the opportunity to teach the whole base about the meaning of Chanukah.

In the course of my networking and procurement of kosher wine for Shabbat, I found out that a nearby Army camp had more Jewish soldiers, and they were throwing a Shabbat/Chanukah party.

I recruited two fellow Jews to join me. One of them, Matthew, a young Airman from Pittsburgh, even agreed to stay at the army camp with me during Shabbat.

Believe it or not, even in a "war zone" I have been able to keep the Sabbath. It was no simple matter to arrange the logistics and transportation, but when you try to do G-d's will, He matches your effort.
We made it through the dangerous Middle East traffic, which by itself is a war zone, the security checkpoints, and into the camp. We arrived shortly before sunset, just in time to light the menorah and the Shabbat candles. I could now take off my arms and welcome the “Shabbat Queen.”

The Shabbat evening service and subsequent party were held at the camp chapel, once a warehouse.

Jewish soldiers started trickling in. Eventually, we made a minyan. We started the service by kindling the lights.

It was a sight to behold. The Shabbat candles and a dozen fully lit menorahs all standing on one table and burning bright — in the middle of the Middle East.

The Jews gathered that night were a mixed bunch, army and air force, officers and enlisted, young and old, everybody with a different background. Most of our “congregation” had Reform or Conservative backgrounds, and one kid was the son of an Orthodox rabbi. Our platoon also included three females, one a "full bird" colonel, the head doctor.

Our Chanukah party was a blast. We enjoyed kosher snacks, sodas and Kedem grape juice. The colonel made potato latkes for us, and I cut up and passed around a kosher salami sent to me in one of these wonderful care packages from the States. I keep kosher, and this was the first meat I had in a month.

More presents were handed out and then we started the Vegas style dreidel gambling for Chanukah gelt. The big winner, Mordechai, an army specialist and former paratrooper, was taking his earnings, a shopping bag full of chocolate coins, back to his unit to share with his buddies. "This is the best time I've had since I've been away," he said to me.

It’s a major challenge here, with all the violence and insurgency, so what’s the big deal if a few of us celebrate one Chanukah night in the middle of nowhere? But that’s the beauty of Chanukah: a little light dispels much darkness!