A SOLDIER'S SALUTE

A FRUM U.S. ARMY VETERAN SHARES...

Purim’s in the air, and chances are that if you’d stop a little boy in the street and ask him what he’ll be dressing up as on Purim, he’d tell you, “why, a soldier!”. Meet Mr. Wolf, a U.S. Army veteran, and listen to his recollections of his two-year stint in the U.S. military (1957- 1958).

Mr. Wolf, what made you join the army?

Well, I got a letter from my Uncle Sam. He wanted me to join him along with his boys! In those years, the Selective Service Act was in effect and that meant that every eighteenyear-old male had to register with the military. For eight years after that (until the age of twenty-six) the army was able to draft you for a two-year-stint. Married people or those learning in Yeshiva were able to get exemptions. We tried wiggling out of it, but since I was working in an office, and was Baruch Hashem healthy and strong, I had no choice but to answer to the draft notice. I passed the exam and was sent to Fort Dix in Texas for basic training for three months. What was basic training all about?

We learned how to shoot, how to assemble a rifle in the dark - did you know that a rifle has about fifteen parts? How to crawl under barbed

wire with bullets raining overhead. Were those real bullets?

Oh yes! They wanted us to get a feel of the battlefield. We did lots of target practice and were taught to take out tanks with bazookas (a cannon perched on one soldier’s shoulder while a second soldier loaded it with a missile). After basic training I was sent to clerk-typing school, where I learned to type professionally, for an additional three months. Altogether I had six months of basic training.

After I completed my basic training, I was sent to Ludwigsburg, Germany, about twenty miles from Stuttgart, the capital of Baden-Wittenberg. (Stuttgart is home to Mercedes and Kodak.) I was assigned to a company that supplied gas to all the military bases in the area. You see, the nature of gasoline is that if it sits for a while it turns rancid. It has to be stirred and mixed like a soup. The bases would send us their old gas cans and we would dump them into a large vat and mix them well.

We would then redistribute the gas; this way the military had a constant supply of ready gasoline. You mixed those cans?

No. I worked in the office, and kept records. I trained as a clerk-typist, remember? Did you fight in any wars?

No. The two years of my military service (1957-1958) were peaceful years for the U.S. Only once was there a call for military action. The Arabs, as usual, were fighting amongst themselves, this time in Lebanon. President Eisenhower was asked to send troops to Lebanon. They (the Arabs) said that they’d ‘appreciate’ if no Jewish personnel were sent. My company had only three Jews, and we said, hooray, hooray, hooray! Because we were Yidden, we were spared from the battlefield! While many of our fellow troops were sent to Lebanon, we had the good fortune of staying behind. The troops that ended up going had to pitch tents and sleep on the beaches of Lebanon. That was the first time I encountered antiSemitism.

Did you experience any other forms of anti-Semitism?

In the army, I had a very good relationship with my Commanding Officer (who was Jewish) and with my Gasoline Depot Supply Officer, a friendly African-American fellow. A

while later, the Jewish Commanding Officer left, and the Gasoline Officer took over as Commanding Officer of my company.

At some point during those two years, I received an offer to ascend in rank as assistant to the Jewish Chaplain. I turned it down. I had seen the previous assistant to the Chaplain (a Reform Rabbi) turn on lights on Shabbos in the big room that was used as a ‘shul’.

When my Commanding Officer heard that I had turned down a plum offer, and opted to stay with his company, he was amazed and felt honored. It was a big feather in his hat. Our relationship was one of mutual respect. In the army, every soldier was entitled to a once annual seven-day retreat for spiritual purposes. These retreats were meant to boost the soldiers’ morale. In appreciation, my commanding officer allowed me to go twice! Those retreats were sponsored by the military?

Oh yes. The military kept us busy with all kinds of activities. The retreat I mentioned occurred two times a year for all religions – once in the winter and once in the summer. The first time I went was in the summer of 1957 and it was very nice. These events took place in the Bavarian Alps in a hotel on a mountain, previously used for Hitler’s soldiers. Hitler’s winter home was further up that mountain. It was beautiful in the summer and even more majestic in the winter with all the snow. The meals were

fully kosher. Did you have kosher food while you were at your regular post?

Not really. The Chaplain would get me gefilte fish, I had my own kosher salami and I ate mostly fruits and vegetables. For those two years I never ate meat except for my salami and on Sundays. Sundays?

Yes. We were given off from after inspection on Shabbos until Sunday night. On Motzaei Shabbos I’d travel into the nearby town, Stuttgart. So, while I could not daven with a minyan on Shabbos, I’d daven with a minyan on Sunday in the little shul in Stuttgart. Then I’d eat in the small kosher restaurant.

The proprietress of the restaurant, Frau Rubin, would prepare a delicious meal for me. First, she served pickled herring - in Europe they serve it so beautifully, on a bed of ice, with a hot potato on the side. The combination of flavors was just marvelous. Then there was soup with thick doughy kreplach and duck (my favorite!) as the main dish. Dessert was tea and cake.

The first time I ate there I told her “Frau Rubin, I will be here for a year and a half, so please take good care of me!” and she did. So much so, that I, tall and lanky boy that I was, gained weight in the army, instead of losing (due to my keeping kosher). When I got home my mother was dismayed. She complained, “You gained weight in the army, of all places?”

What was it like to keep Shabbos?

We commonly had inspection on Shabbos. Our boots and shoes had to be lined up under our beds. Our boots had to be polished to a shine, so that you saw your reflection in them. Our brass buckles on our belts had to gleam like mirrors. We had to make our beds and pull the sheets so tight that if you dropped a coin on the blanket it would bounce back instead of falling in. All the soldiers prepared for inspection on Shabbos, while I did my preparations on Friday. Also, because I worked in the office, I was exempt from being present during the inspection. Shabbos after inspection, I’d change into civilian clothes, and after Shabbos I’d leave to nearby Stuttgart, until Sunday night.

I was offered the job of sitting at the door of the mess hall (the room where we ate our meals) to check everyone in, but I declined because I would not be able to keep Shabbos properly. I would have earned a second stripe on my uniform, had I taken that job. What stripes?

When a soldier begins basic training he is called a ‘private’ and has no stripes on his uniform. After basic training, once he is assigned to a job he gets one stripe on his arm and is called ‘private first class’. Additional stripes are assigned according to job and performance. That’s how the army classifies its soldiers. In short, looking back, how would

you describe your experiences those two years?

In reality, my daily duties entailed regular office and clerical work. However, I made the most out of the benefits that the army gave their soldiers. Besides the seven-day retreats, we were entitled to about thirty days leave each year. I traveled to England, Belgium, Holland, Luxembourg, France and Italy. I got all sorts of travel discounts from the military and exchanged currencies at the best rate, because of my GI status. But I had to be careful. I could not let on that I was a U.S. soldier in Germany. The Germans hated the Americans (this was slightly more than a decade after WWII), and only tolerated us because they were afraid of the Russians taking over their country. I made sure to buy European style clothes and shoes, so that the locals didn’t pick up on my military status. I was lucky; the accent used by the Germans in my area was closest to Yiddish, so I spoke the language well and did not stand out in any way.

As careful as I was to keep my U.S. soldier status under wraps, I kept my Jewish identity even more hidden; this was Germany after all! I recall being at the Octoberfest, where the Germans would get together to celebrate the new harvest and the new beer for that year. They had huge tents set up, and when they began to sing with their beer in their hands, I was sure that if Hitler Ym"s walked in they’d give him an enthusiastic “Heil!” It was chilling. Of all the places you have visited, is there a place that left a deep impression on you?

I recall davening in the Great Portland Street Synagogue in London. The rabbis wore top hats and everyone wore pinstriped pants, all proper and British. It was a beautiful building; each seat had a built-in shelf for a siddur and a tallis. The mispallelim were so welcoming. I was honored with an aliyah and was invited back for shalosh seudos. But what impressed me most was their overwhelming respect for the shul. They behaved as if they were in the presence of royalty- which they were, of course, only they were in the presence of True Royalty- Hashem! They didn’t turn their backs on the Sefer Torah, they just backed out of the shul slowly. Thank you Mr. Wolf for your time. Can you leave your readers with a message?

My most impressionable memories are of the time I spent at the winter retreat in the hotel that had previously housed Hitler’s soldiers. I was looking out of the huge picture windows at the snowy expanse and noticed Hitler’s winter home (perched higher up on the mountain) reflected in the white, shiny snow. I was struck by the irony of the moment. I, a Jew, was davening in the hotel that had once housed Nazis! I now faced a silent home, where Evil itself once lived, breathed and schemed. I stood there and davened mincha while dancing on Hitler’s grave, overcome with deep emotion and gratitude. It was a wonderful moment, just wonderful.

What should I tell you - that moment encapsulates all of our history. Wherever we went, whatever challenges we faced (and face), the battles we fought (and continue to fight), we prevailed and will continue to prevail. Am Yisroel Chai!

From Generation

to Generation