The Calculus of Patriotism: Arnold Zweig’s “Judenzählung” – “The Census of the Jews Before Verdun” – in Die Schaubühne, February, 1917

“Great fatherland, I intended to die and rest for you!” 
But a whirlwind stirred the dead;
they stood at the table one after the other,
captains and medical officers
first and lieutenants and doctors,
sergeants and watch-masters,
non-commissioned officers, privates,
common soldiers. 
And the scribe put a dry quill in each hand;
it flowed like a scratched finger;
each one wrote his Hebrew name in small red letters that shone like square seals. 

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But a bright cross shone over the forehead of some who were baptized;
the writer asked everyone:
Jew? 
And he nodded, he said, “You know”; he said,
“Mosaic denomination”;
“Israelite” he said,
“German of Jewish faith” –
“Jew, yes” some said and stretched,
and the crosses faded from everyone. 

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“Oh Akiba,” I cried, “when will the Messiah come?”
His gaze examined my soul.
“At the gates of Rome a hunchbacked beggar,
the Messiah, sits and waits,” said he;
it frightens me like a threat.
“What is he waiting for, Master?” I cried out in fear.
“For you” said the old man and turned.
And I awoke to a sudden, glaring, heart-breaking shock.

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The lives of men, as much as peoples and nations, are affected by the winds of history in different ways.  Some men, entirely unaffected by the even most threatening physical and spiritual challenges, “after the fact” remain much the same as before.  Other men, to a greater or lesser degree, may “pause” for a time … weeks, months, years … and eventually, though the trajectory of their lives may be temporarily altered, return to the path previously charted for them by decision and happenstance.  Other men are different.  An event that for most may have been seen as trivial, or at worst an unintended and soon forgotten diversion, may be perceived in the fullness of its meaning, message, and implications, and symbolically become part of one’s identity, outlook upon life, and vision of the future.

Such seems to have been true of the German writer Arnold Zweig as a soldier in the Deutsches Heer – the Imperial German Army – in the First World War, the course of whose life was strongly influenced by the German Army’s Judenzählung – Census of the Jews – of late 1916. 

There are many, many sources of information about the Judenzählung, encompassing books and academic papers, focusing on the event in terms of the specific history of Jews in the German military, to the larger scope of German Jewish history, and in an even wider perspective (like that of David Vital), the post-Emancipation history of European Jews as a whole.  However, for the sake of brevity, I’ll simply quote the Wikipedia entry for the the Judenzählung.  (Yeah, I know it’s Wikipedia, but the information is definitely useful, while the 12 references and 8 extra readings do provide paths for further understanding of the event.)

So…

[The] Judenzählung … was a measure instituted by the German Oberste Heeresleitung (OHL) in October 1916, during the upheaval of World War I.  Designed to confirm accusations of the lack of patriotism among German Jews, the census disproved the charges, but its results were not made public.  However, its figures were published in an antisemitic brochure.  Jewish authorities, who themselves had compiled statistics that considerably exceeded the figures in the brochure, were denied access to government archives, and informed by the Republican Minister of Defense that the brochure’s contents were correct.  In the atmosphere of growing antisemitism, many German Jews saw “the Great War” as an opportunity to prove their commitment to the German homeland.

Background

The census was seen as a way to prove that Jews were betraying the Fatherland by shirking military service.  According to Amos Elon, “In October 1916, when almost three thousand Jews had already died on the battlefield and more than seven thousand had been decorated, War Minister Wild von Hohenborn saw fit to sanction the growing prejudices.  He ordered a “Jew census” in the army to determine the actual number of Jews on the front lines as opposed to those serving in the rear. Ignoring protests in the Reichstag and the press, he proceeded with his head count.  The results were not made public, ostensibly to “spare Jewish feelings.”  The truth was that the census disproved the accusations: 80 percent served on the front lines.”

Results and Reactions

The results of the census were never officially released by the army and any records of the census were most likely lost when the German military archives were destroyed during the allied bombing campaigns of Berlin and Potsdam.  The episode marked a shocking moment for the Jewish community, which had passionately backed the War effort and displayed great patriotism; many Jews saw it as an opportunity to prove their commitment to the German homeland.

That their fellow countrymen could turn on them was a source of major dismay for most German Jews, and the moment marked a point of rapid decline in what some historians (Fritz Stern) called “Jewish-German symbiosis.”

(Digressing…  Was there a German-Jewish symbiosis?  As described by Yehuda Bauer in the Yad Vashem publication ”German-Jewish Symbiosis” – Against The Background Of The 30’s”, interviewed by Amos Goldberg in 1998:

Question: From a historical perspective, was the so-called “German-Jewish symbiosis” real or an illusion?

Answer:  People talk today about a Jewish-German symbiosis that existed before Hitler.  There was a love affair between Jews and Germans, but it was one-sided: Jews loved Germany and Germans; Germans didn’t love Jews, even if they didn’t hate them.  One-sided love affairs usually don’t work very well.  In this case, the so-called symbiosis between Jews and Germans is a postfactum invention.  It never existed.  Jews participated in German life, in German cultural life, but to say that they were accepted, even if the product they produced was accepted….  They were not accepted, even if they converted.”)

You can read much more about the above topic in Alexander Gelley’s essay “On the “Myth of the German-Jewish Dialogue”: Scholem and Benjamin”, particularly noting his reference to Gershon Scholem’s essay, “Against the Myth of the German-Jewish Dialogue,” from On Jews and Judaism in Crisis.

Back to the Judenzählung…  Reproduced as the Appendix (pp. 167-168) of Werner Angress’ 1978 Leo Baeck Institute Yearbook article “‘Judenzählung’ of 1916 Genesis – Consequences – Significance”, here’s an image of the questionnaire used for the survey: ‘Nachweisung uber noch nicht zur Einstellung gelangte, auf Reklamation zuriickgestellte und als kr.u. [kriegsuntauglich] befundene Juden’. [‘Proof of items that have not yet been discontinued, are deferred following a complaint and are considered Jews found [unfit for war]’.  The document is from the Bundesarchiv Koblenz, Reichskanzlei, Film 2197, No. 161 (Sections A and B); and ibid., No. 161 a (Section C).

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Angress discusses the origin, implications, and impact of the Judenzählung are discussed in great detail, concluding that the contemporary and retrospective significance of the Judenzählung – was it portentous or not? – must understood in the context and contingencies of history:

“We may ask, in conclusion, whether the Judenzdhlung was a watershed, a milestone on the road to Auschwitz as has been occasionally maintained.  For those who reject the inevitability of human events – and most historians do – the answer must be in the negative.  Antisemitism had been a part of the German scene before the First World War and remained a potent force during the brief life of the Weimar Republic, though here, too, its intensity fluctuated.  Granted that during the First World War antisemitism had gained new strength, and that the War Ministry’s Erlass [order] of 11th October 1916 was a direct outgrowth of this trend.  But taken by itself, the Judenzdhlung — a tactless blunder committed by a handful of high-ranking and most probably antisemitic army officers – was a symptom, a warning sign that antisemitism in Germany was alive and well, especially in times of stress and national reverses.  More than this it did not signify.  If the course of German history during the post-war period had taken a different direction from that which it ultimately did take – and this possibility existed at least until 30th January 1933, if not beyond that date – the Judenzdhlung would have remained a mere episode, a humiliation like others before, remembered with distaste, but ultimately shrugged off as just another manifestation of Risches [modernism; radicalism] on the part of Wilhelminian Germany’s military elite.”

Though a subject of straightforward academic interest several decades later (but no longer in the early 21st Century, it seems!) the Judenzählung most definitely impacted German Jewish soldiers on an individual level.  Though I don’t know if – and I doubt that – any large-scale research as ever been done into any still-extant letters and diaries of German Jewish veterans of the Great War pertaining to their reactions to the census, the event did have an impact – an extremely significant, life changing impact – upon a writer whose future oeuvre focused upon themes of the First World War, the European Jewish experience in the early twentieth century, and to a lesser extent (*ugh*) socialism (oh well, two out o’ three ain’t bad!):  Arnold Zweig. 

As variously recounted by Noah William Eisenberg, Martin Grabolle, and Bernd-Rüdiger Hüppauf, Zweig, then a private in the German Army, a, “loyal Vaterlandsverteidiger (defender of the Fatherland),” so patriotic as to have been married in uniform in 1916, was very deeply affected by the implications of the Judenzählung.  As he described in a letter of February 15, 1917 to Martin Buber written from the Maas Front (quoted by Martin Grabolle), “Judenzählung war eine Reflexbewegung unerhörter Trauer über Deutschlands Schande und unsere Qual; kein Essay sondern ein Bild…  Wenn es keinen Antisemitismus im Heere gabe: die unerträgliche „Dienstpflicht“ wäre fast leicht.  Aber: verächtlichen und elenden Kreaturen untergeben zu sein!  Ich bezeichne mich vor mir selbst als Zivilgefangen und staatenlosen Ausländer.“  [“’The Census of the Jews’ was a reflex movement of unheard-of grief over Germany’s shame and our torment; not an essay but a picture…  If there were no anti-Semitism in the army: the unbearable “duty” would be almost easy.  But: to be subordinate to contemptible and miserable creatures!  I refer to myself a civil prisoner and a stateless alien.”]

The then twenty-nine year old private’s response was to pen an extraordinarily vivid short fictional piece that was macabre, haunting, grotesque, and yet (with intended irony?) – by the tale’s end – deeply inspirational, entitled “Judenzählung vor Verdun” [The Jewish Census at Verdun]. 

Inwardly, Zweig was transformed by the census.  According to Martin Grabollle, “Where not too long ago Zweig had celebrated the new-found unity of the German people, he now felt himself to be a foreigner without a state (“staatenlose[r] Ausländer).  All that remained two years after his embrace of Germany at war was a feeling of “unerhörte Trauer über Deutschlands Schande und unsere Qual” (“enormous grief for Germany’s disgrace and our [the Jews’] pain”).” 

Outwardly, Zweig was also transformed.  Quoting Eisenberg, “…in June, 1917, he was transferred to the Eastern region of Ober-Ost (in Lithuanian Kovno) to serve in the special wartime press division.  There, as he traveled to the various shtetls in Lithuania, Zweig witnessed for the first time the problems that the Eastern Jews faced during the war – animosity and ill-treatment from both sides of the battle – and, more importantly, the unique community they maintained in the face of such contradictions.”  One result of his spiritual and intellectual metamorphosis appeared six years later, in the volume Das ostjüdische Antlitz [The Eastern Jewish Face], produced in collaboration with artist Hermann Struck.

The first commentary about the Judenzählung (that I know of!) was a leading page editorial by “M.M.” in the October 27, 1916 issue of Judische Rundschau.  M.M. correctly surmises that, “The tendency of those who introduced the resolution is clear.  An anti-Semitic suspicion should be given special weight by a parliamentary resolution.”  The author then discusses the influence on the position of Jewish citizens in the Allied countries resulting from the Allies’ alliance with Imperial Russia, but notes that such a factor was irrelevant in Germany, since anti-Jewish feeling in that country was in some ways already parallel to – but obviously independent of – Russian influence.  The editorial explains that even as early as 1916, despite the valor, sacrifice, and patriotism of German Jewish soldiers, there was, and would be, no commensurate “improvement in the political position of German Jews after the war”.  He then correctly explains that antisemitism is entirely unrelated to the actions and beliefs of Jews, instead being primarily “rooted in the consciousness of the surrounding people”.  M.M. concludes with the imperative of collectively establishing Jewish life on a common territory, albeit naively concluding (the naivete can be forgiven given the what we know in 2023, let alone what was known in 1948, let alone the 1930s) that a Jewish nation-state would actually reduce antisemitism.   

Here’s an English-language translation of “M.M.’s” editorial about the Judenzählung, from the October 27, 1916, issue of Judische Rundschau, via Goethe University.  

The Jewish Census [Alternatively, “Count of the Jews”]

On October 19, 1916, the Budget Commission of the German Reichstag resolved to compile statistics on the denomination of the people employed in the wartime societies.  The decision is justified by the fact that the survey is intended to refute “a widespread opinion” that there were a particularly large number of “Jewish slackers” in the war societies.  The Reichstag plenum has not yet approved the implementation of the resolution, but the symptomatic fact is sufficient that the representatives of all factions belonging to the commission, with the exception of the Liberals and Social Democrats, i.e. also the National Liberals and clericals, voted in favor of the resolution.  The tendency of those who introduced the resolution is clear.  An anti-Semitic suspicion should be given special weight by a parliamentary resolution.  The result of the inquiry will not be according to the applicants’ secret wishes.  Because even if, which is by no means certain, a larger number of Jews were to be employed in the German wartime societies, that would still not be proof of “Jewish shirking”.  The proportion of Jews in German economic life is proportionately greater than that of the rest of the population, and it has rightly been pointed out that the number of indispensable Jews in other occupations closed to Jews is all the smaller.

There has been much talk lately of the pernicious influence which the alliance of the western powers with Russia had on the position of the Jews of those countries.  Conservative and clerical German newspapers also stated that the French and British governments gave in to pressure from St. Petersburg and gave the anti-Semites of both countries a freer hand, not without condemning references to the bad effects of the Russian reaction.  The anti-Semites of Germany do not seem to have needed this Russian pressure in order to shame the German Jews by a measure that would do even Russian Jew-baiting credit.  The statistics passed by the budget commission of the German Reichstag are in line with some Russian army orders, about which the entire German press, including the conservative and clerical ones, broke the baton.  About the Russian secret order that the Russian soldiers should observe the attitude of their Jewish comrades-in-arms very closely and provide information about it for statistical purposes, there was only one voice in the German press of indignation.  As much as German Jews should consider it beneath their table dignity to justify themselves against the anti-Semitic insinuation that there is a specifically “Jewish shirking,” they have a duty to protest against this “census.”  It is a monstrous violation of the honor and civil equality of German Jewry.

The decision of the German Reich Budget Committee has another meaning.  It confirms the fear that German anti-Semitism did not decrease during the war and that hopes for an improvement in the political position of German Jews after the war are premature.  Since the outbreak of the war, certain Jewish circles in Germany had been full of high hopes for the post-war period, reveling in envisioning the brilliant civic position which the Jews would enjoy after the war in recognition of their patriotic and military prowess, and could not do enough in apologetic references to the patriotic attitude of German Jewry.  They will have to see that anti-Semitism is not, as they think, a reaction to “bad Jewish habits” but a power deeply rooted in the consciousness of the surrounding people, which is even sometimes – and not only in Russia – used to distract attention the masses of burning but uncomfortable domestic issues.  This deep-rooted anti-Semitic mood is neither erased by apologies and references to merits, nor even diminished by the striving for conformity.  There is only one way to effectively combat hatred of Jews.  It is the way of redeeming the Jews from their isolation by concentrating on a common territory.  And even if this goal can only be reached through the work of generations, striving for it improves our situation among the peoples.  Objectively, in that the virtues of pride and self-dignity, developed through the uncompromising emphasis on Jewish characteristics, wrested more respect for the Jews from the surrounding peoples than the unstable method of assimilation, subjectively, insofar as the defense against anti-Semitism, albeit with all the honorable means of the carried out with passion and acumen, will only make up a modest part of our Jewish life.  Only when the work for the restoration of the Jewish people in our own land has become our main Jewish focus will we be able to fight anti-Semitism effectively and at the same time reduce it to the natural degree that its importance in Jewish life is: an annoying defense against intolerance and slander coming from the outside. – M.M.

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Here’s the editorial, in the original German…

Judenzählung

Die Budget-Kommission des Deutschen Reichstags hat am 19. Oktober 1916 den Beschluss gefasst, eine Statistik über die Konfession der in den Kriegsgesellschaften beschäftigten Personen vorzunehmen.  Der Beschluss wird damit begründet, dass durch die Erhebung “eine weit im Volke verbreitete Meinung” widerlegt werden soll, wonach in den Kreigsgesellschaften besonders viel “jüdische Drückeberger“ sässen.  Noch hat das Reichstagsplenum die Durchführung des Beschlusses nicht genehmigt, aber es genügt die symptomatische Tatsache, dass die Vertreter aller Fraktionen, die der Kommission angehören, mit Ausnahme der Freisinnigen und Sozialdemokraten, also auch die Nationalliberalen und Klerikalen, für die Resolution stimmten.  Die Tendenz derer, die den Beschluss einbrachten, liegt klar zutage.  Einer antisemitischen Verdächtigung soll durch Parlamentsbeschluss besonders Gewicht gegeben werden.  Das Ergebnis der Enquete wird nicht nach den geheimen Wünschen der Antragsteller ausfallen.  Denn wenn auch, was durchaus nicht feststeht, in den deutschen Kriegsgesellschaften eine grössere Anzahl Juden angestellt sein sollte, so wäre das noch kein Beweis für die “jüdische Drückebergerei”.  Der Anteil der Juden am deutschen Wirtschaftsleben ist verhältnismässig grösser als der der übrigen Bevölkerung und mit Recht hat man darauf hingewiesen, dass die Zahl der jüdischen Unabkömmlichen in anderen, Juden verschlossenen Berufszweigen um so geringer ist.

Man hat in letzter Zeit viel von dem schädlichen Einfluss gesprochen, den das Bündnis der Westmächte mit Russland auf die Lage der Juden dieser Länder hatte.  Die französische und englische Regierung hat, so konstatierten auch konservative und klerikale deutsche Blätter nicht ohne verurteilenden Hinweis auf die schlimmen Wirkungen der russischen Reaktion, dem Drucke Petersburgs nachgegeben und den Antisemiten beider Länder freiere Hand gegeben.  Dieses russischen Druckes scheinen die Antisemiten Deutschlands nicht bedurft zu haben, um die deutschen Juden durch eine Massnahme an den Schandpfahl zu stellen, die selbst russischen Judenhetzern alle Ehre machen würde.  Die von der Budget-Kommission des deutschen Reichstags beschlossene Statistik steht mit manchen russischen Ameebefehlen in einer Reihe, über die die gesamte deutsche Presse auch die konservative und klerikale, seinerzeit den Stab brach.  Ueber den russischen Geheimbefehl, die russischen Soldaten sollten die Haltung ihrer jüdischen Mitkämpfer genauestens beobachten und darüber zu statistischen Zwecken Auskunft geben, herrschte im deutschen Blätterwald nur eine Stimme der Entrüstung.  So sehr es die deutschen Juden unter ihrer tische Wurde halten sollten, sich gegen die antisemitische Insinuation, es gäbe eine spezifisch “jüdische Drückebergerei,” zu rechtfertigen, so sehr haben sir die Pflicht, gegen diese “Zählung” zu protestieren.  Sie ist eine ungeheuerliche Verletzung der Ehre und der bürgerlichen Gleichstellung des deutschen Judentums.

Der Beschluss des deutschen Reichshaushaltausschusses hat noch eine andere Bedeutung.  Er bestätigt die Befürchtung, dass der deutsche Antisemitismus während des Krieges nicht abgenommen habe und dass die Hoffnungen auf eine Besserung der politischen Stellung der deutschen Juden nach dem Kriege verfrüht seien.  Gewisse jüdische Kreise Deutschlands waren seit Ausbruch des Krieges voll hochgespannter Hoffnungen für die Zeit nach dem Weltkrieg, schwelgten im Ausmalen der glänzenden staatsbürgerlichen Stellung, deren sich die Juden in Anerkennung ihrer patriotischen und militärischen Bewährung nach dem Kriege zu erfreuen haben werden, und konnten sich nicht genug tun in apologetischen Hinweisen auf die vaterländische Haltung des deutschen Judentums.  Sie werden einsehen müssen, dass der Antisemitismus nicht, wie sie meinen, eine Reaktion auf “schlechte jüdische Gewohnheiten” ist, sondern eine im Bewusstsein des umgebenden Volkes tiefwurzelnde Macht, deren man sich sogar manchmal – und nicht bloss in Russland – zur Ablenkung des Interesses der Massen von brennenden, aber unbequemen innerpolitischen Fragen bedient.  Diese tiefwurzelnde antisemitische Grundstimmung wird weder durch Apologie und Hinweis auf Verdienste aus der Welt geschafft, noch durch das Streben nach Anpassung auch nur vermindert.  Es gibt nur einen Weg zur wirksamen Bekämpfung des Judenhasses.  Es ist der Weg der Erlösung der Juden aus ihrer Vereinzelung durch Konzentrierung auf einem gemeinsamen Territorium.  Und wenn dieses Ziel auch erst durch die Arbeit von Generationen erreich bar sein wird: schon das Streben nach ihm bessert unsere Lage unter den Völkern.  Objektiv, indem die durch die kompromisslose Betonung der jüdischen Eigenart entwickelten Tugenden des Stolzes und der Selbstwürde den umgebenden Völkern mehr Achtung gegen den Juden abringen als die haltlose Anpassungs-methode, subjektiv, insofern die Abwehr gegen die Judenfeindschaft, wenn auch mit allen ehrenhaften Mitteln der Leidenschaft und des Scharfsinns durchgeführt, nur noch einen bescheidenen Teil unseres jüdischen Lebensinhaltes ausmachen wird.  Erst wenn die Arbeit für die Wiederherstellung des jüdischen Volkes im eigenen Lande zu unserem jüdischen Hauptinhalt geworden ist, werden wir den Antisemitismus wirksam bekämpfen und seine Bekämpfung zugleich auf das natürliche Mass zurückführen können, das seiner Bedeutung für das jüdische Leben zukommt: einer lästigen Abwehr gegen Intoleranz und Verleumdung, die von aussen kommt. – M.M.

…and, as it actually appeared in the newspaper…

…where it can be found on the newspaper’s front page, comprising two columns.

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The first appearance of “Judenzählung vor Verdun” was in the February, 1917 (Volume 13, Issue 1) issue of Die Siegfried Jacobsohn’s Die Schaubühne (The Theater).  Here (…drum roll!!…) is an English-language translation of the tale. 

The Jewish Census at Verdun

At midnight a soft hand touched me: “Get up”.  I stepped in front of the door of the silent bunkhouse and saw: “Azrael, cherub who commands the dead, fell from the night sky – vengeful anger – blew the shofar and cried: “To the count, you dead Jews in the German army!”

Before long the field swarmed with silent figures up to the rolling hills, behind which the Fortress of Verdun roared, fanned anew, and their little bastards roared loudly; flames erupted terribly, twitching and shattering the wailing night on the gun’s horizon.  The wind flew from Orion, which hung feebly over the heights in dim veils.  Murmurs trembled over the area; a gloomy glow surrounded thousands.  A table stood, a large book open, and a clerk in uniform sat behind it, pointy-nosed with yellow hair.  He called:

“Line up according to rank!  The roll of names of the people is to be recognized!”  Then a gentle voice said: “Oh, why don’t you let us sleep, since we were already lying in the restful arms of the earth!”  And the writer: “Statistics ask how many of you Jews pressed themselves to their graves from the distant war.”  Groans rose from the ground, as if the earth was wailing, and the voice cried out painfully:

“Great fatherland, I intended to die and rest for you!”  But a whirlwind stirred the dead; they stood at the table one after the other, captains and medical officers first and lieutenants and doctors, sergeants and watch-masters, non-commissioned officers, privates, common soldiers.  And the scribe put a dry quill in each hand; it flowed like a scratched finger; each one wrote his Hebrew name in small red letters that shone like square seals.  There the corpses stood patiently and waited, and whoever wrote silently placed on the table the badges he wore and stood back, as one in the crowd.  There lay the thick epaulettes of the medical officers and the silver ones of the officers, sword knots like silver eggs, the braids of the non-commissioned officers, the small batons of the Rod of Asclepius, the big buttons of privates; the Iron Crosses of the First Class and like many of the Second Class, other crosses and medals, black and white ribbons in all sorts of colors.  But the heap swelled on the table.

The quiet men approached, wrote and became a crowd.  The outline of the old body surrounded it like a light aura, phosphorescent like rotten wood; but the darker core was given by the body which was laid in the grave in due time.  The bellies were eaten away by typhus and hollowed out by dysentery.  Their heads showed holes from bullets, half of their skulls had been carried off by grenades, arms were missing, broken legs and ribs protruded from tattered uniforms; they were bandaged, clothed in rags, without boots; dead eyes looked gloomy, white light fell from lowered foreheads, the dead were silent in shame and mourning.  Youngsters stood next to boys and young men next to mature ones.  And they stated how old they were and where they were born: everywhere in Germany, and what their professions were: teachers and lawyers, rabbis and doctors, travelers, many students of all faculties, pupils, painters, young poets, merchants, craftsmen and merchants in turn and merchants again and again.  And where fallen; where did they lie in the grave?  Near Lille, they said, and Pozieres, all along the Somme, Thiaumont it was called and Azannes, Fleury and Vaux, Champagne, Argonne, Vosges, all of Flanders (they lay in the damp ground the longest); Bzuraklangs, East Prussia, the Carpathians, the Slota Lipa (which was called Sanward), Kovno and Dunaburg, Volhynian swamp, Hungarian forest, Serbian mountain, Galician valley: and Azrael, the angel, nodded at everyone, he had sown them like seeds, thrown far away here; there.  Everything was written down in the book, the pen moved, small red letters appeared on the pale sheet.  But a bright cross shone over the forehead of some who were baptized; the writer asked everyone: Jew?  And he nodded, he said, “You know”; he said, “Mosaic denomination”; “Israelite” he said, “German of Jewish faith” – “Jew, yes” some said and stretched, and the crosses faded from everyone.  And as the freshest stood at the table, almost still bleeding, blown from Romania, the Dobruja, the Somme…

The moon lost its shine, the wind blew more violently into the darkness, Azrael raised his hand, the field lay empty, overgrown with scattered light.  Night fell, all black, blazing at the edge of the forge of Verdun roaring behind the heights.

But the dead Jews could no longer stand at the bottom of their graves.  They sank; slowly and soullessly the bodies slid deeper down, deeper down.  A river, black and soundless, flowed in the veins of the earth, taking it up and rolling it eastward; each one became a round cylinder, shrunk, became as big as a brick and very soft.  And it threw them out in the early morning, flowing under palm trees into the light of a jubilant sun that rose from the sea.  But a tall man with a broad black beard, a reproachful look and a workman’s apron, the trowel lying to his right and his naked sword to his left, seized each one and pressed it; it became hard as a stone in the sun and laid it into low masonry, and the stream threw roller after roller at his feet.   The waller put stone next to stone; he didn’t look up.  An old man came up to him and greeted him, a young smile lay like dawn on old rock over the weather-beaten forehead and the aged beard. “Greetings to he who builds the tower,” he said, and: “Thanks to him who has seen the daughter of Zion,” answered the builder and set a stone.  “The daughter of Zion is on her way,” said Akiba, and the maker blushed with happiness.  But I could no longer contain myself: “Oh Akiba,” I cried, “when will the Messiah come?”  His gaze examined my soul.  “At the gates of Rome a hunchbacked beggar, the Messiah, sits and waits,” said he; it frightens me like a threat.  “What is he waiting for, Master?” I cried out in fear.  “For you,” said the old man and turned.  And I awoke to a sudden, glaring, heart-breaking shock.

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Some comments…

Note how Zweig introduces the tale with mention of “Azrael”, the angel of death. 

Wikipedia reveals that – oddly – while the figure of “Azriel” is mentioned in the Zohar, neither “Azrael” or “Azriel” appear in the Tanach or Talmud, also stating that, “… the name Azrael is suggestive of a Hebrew theophoric עזראל, meaning “the one whom God helps,” and that, “Archeological evidence uncovered in Jewish settlements in Mesopotamia confirm that it was indeed at one time used on an Aramaic incantation bowl from the 7th century.  However, as the text thereon only lists names, an association of this angelic name with death cannot be identified in Judaism.” 

Azrael is a much more significant figure in Islam, being one of the four archangels, the others being Jibrāʾīl, Mīkāʾīl, and Isrāfīl.  The only mention of the name in the context of Christianity is in the Ethiopic version of Apocalypse of Peter (dating to the 16th century), where Azrael – spelled as Ezrā’ël – appears is an angel of hell who avenges those who had been wronged during life.”  In a much different sense, Azrael appears in the works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and G. K. Chesterton’s, and in the world of the Smurfs, as the evil wizard Gargamel’s cat.

And so, the tale…

And then…  A “whirlwind” stirs the dead.  At Azrael’s command, after a momentary protest, the spirits of fallen Jewish soldiers rise from the sleep of death within in their graves, and stand before the angel. 

And then… One after another in line, without regard to rank, the spirits stand before a table upon which lies an open book, upon which they inscribe their names in small, block-like Hebrew letters, with a quill given to them by Azrael.

And then… Nearby, they deposit their insignia of rank and medals in a swelling pile.

And then…  Zweig’s tale becomes explicit; macabre, grotesque.  The fatal wounds of the fallen are described in graphic detail; then, their professions or vocations are given; then, they state where they fell.  This is are also recorded by each man’s spirit.  Every fallen soldier appears as a phosphorescent aura with a dark, inner core, the latter vaguely implied to still lie within his grave. 

And then…  Those Jews who had been baptized are also standing before Azrael, bright crosses shining above their foreheads.  As they identify themselves as members of the “Mosaic denomination”, “Israelites”, or “Germans of Jewish faith”, the crosses fade away. 

And then…  The souls and bodies of the dead are transformed.  They sink into the earth, roll eastward, and with this they shrink to the size of bricks, take on the shape of cylinders, become pliable and soft, and move eastward under the sea, until they emerge under a bright sun, in a land of sunlight and palms. 

And then…  As each brick is taken up by a black-bearded mason with a sword and trowel it hardens, and is pressed into a wall of masonry.  And the process continues, brick by brick.

And then…  Akiba (Rabbi Akiba) and the anonymous mason greet one another, the former anticipating the arrival of the Daughter of Zion.

And then…  The anonymous narrator implores of Akiba to know the date of the Messiah’s arrival.  And as Akiba turns away, he reveals that the Messiah’s arrival depends, “on you”: on the narrator himself. 

And finally…  From nightmare, from dream, from mystical vision, the narrator awakens… 

And then…?

Here’s the tale in the original German:

Judenzählung vor Verdun

Um Mitternacht rührte mich eine leise Hand an: “Steh auf”.  Ich trat vor die Tür der schweigenden Schlafbaracke und sah: “Azrael, Cherub, der über Tote gebietet, stürzte vom Nachtfirmament herab, rachegeflügelter Zorn, stiess ins Horn Schofar und schrie: “Auf zur Zählung, ihr toten Juden im deutschen Heer!”

Es verging keine Zeit, da wimmelte das Feld von leisen Gestalten bis an die gebogenen Hügel, hinter denen brüllte die Feste Verdun, neu angefacht, und ihre kleinern Essen brüllten laut; Flammen schlugen furchtbar auf, zuckend zerbrach am Horizont des Geschützes die wehklagende Nacht.  Der Wind flog vom Orion her, der schwach über den Höhen hing in trüben Schleiern.  Raunen bebte übers Gelände, düsterer Schein umwitterte Tausende.  Ein Tisch stand, aufgeschlagen ein grosses Buch, ein Schreiber sass in Montur dahinter, spitznäsig mit gelbem Schopf.  Er rief:

“Antreten dem Range nach!  Die Totenstammrolle ist anzuerkennen!”  Da sagte eine milde Stimme: “Oh warum lasst ihr uns nicht schlafen, da wir schon lagen in der Erde Arm ruhevoll!”  Und der Schreiber: “Die Statistik fragt, wieviel von euch Juden sich vom fernern Krieg gedrückt ins Grab.”  Stöhnen steig auf vom Gelände, als klagte der Boden, und die Stimme rief schmerzlich:

“Grosses Vaterland, ich gedachte für dich zu sterben und zu ruhn!”  Aber ein Wirbel bewegte die Toten, sie standen am Tische einer nach dem andern, Hauptleute und Stabsärzte zuvor und Leutnants und Aerzte, Feldwebel und Wachtmeister, Unteroffiziere, Gefreite, Gemeine.  Und eine dürre Feder gab der Schreiber in jede Hand, sie floss wie ein geritzter Finger, seinen hebräischen Namen schrieb ein jeder in kleinen roten Lettern, die leuchteten wie quadratische Siegel.  Da standen die Leichname geduldig und warteten, und wer geschrieben, der legte schweigend die Abzeichen auf den Tisch, die er trug, und trat zurück, einer in der Menge.  Da lagen die dicken Achselstücke der Stabsärzte und die silbernen der Offiziere, Portepees wie silberne Eier, die Tressen der Unteroffiziere, die kleinen Aeskulapstäbe, die grossen Knöpfe der Gefreiten; die Eisernen Kreuze der Ersten Klasse und wie viele der Zweiten, andre Kreuze und Medaillen, schwarzweisse Bänder in allerlei Farben.  Der Haufen schwoll aber auf dem Tische.

Die stillen Männer traten heran, schrieben und wurden Menge.  Wie eine leichte Aura umgab sie der Umriss des alten Leibes, phosphoreszierend wie faules Holz; aber den dunklern Kern gab der Körper, den man ins Grab gelegt zu seiner Zeit.  Die Bäuche waren zerfressen vom Flecktyphus und ausgehöhlt von Ruhr.  Ihre Köpfe wiesen Löcher auf vom Geschoss, halbe Schädel hatten Granaten entführt, Arme mangelten, Beine, Rippen zerbrochen drangen aus zerfetzten Uniformen; sie waren mit Verbänden umwickelt, mit Lumpen bekleidet, ohne Stiefel; erloschene Augen blickten düster, von gesenkten Stirnen fiel weisser Schein, die Toten schwiegen in Scham und Trauer.  Da standen Jünglinge bei Knaben und junge Männer neben reifen.  Und sie gaben an, wie alt sie seien und wo geboren: überall im deutschen Land, und was für Berufe: Lehrer und Rechtsanwälte, Rabbiner und Aerzte, Reisende, viele Studenten aller Fakultäten, Schüler, Maler, junge Dichter, Kaufleute, Handwerker und Kaufleute wiederum und immer wieder Kaufleute.  Und wo gefallen, wo lagen sie im Grabe?  Bei Lille, sagten sie, und Pozieres, die ganze Somme entlang, Thiaumont hiess es und Azannes, Fleury und Vaux, Champagne, Argonnen, Vogesen, ganz Flandern, die lagen am längsten im feuchten Grund; Bzura klangs, Ostpreussen, Karpathen, die Slota Lipa, der San ward genannt, Kowno und Dünaburg, wolhynischer Sumpf, ungarischer Wald, serbischer Berg, galizisches Tal: und Azrael nickte, der Engel, bei jedem, er hatte sie ausgesät wie Samenkörner, weit geworfen, hierhin, dorthin.  Alles stand verzeichnet im Buche, die Feder bewegte sich, kleine rote Buchstaben erschienen auf dem bleichen Blatte.  Manchen aber leuchtete ein helles Kreuz über der Stirn, die waren getauft; der Schreiber fragte jeden: Jude?  Und er nickte, er sagte: “Sie wissen doch”; er sagte: “Mosaischer Konfession”; “Israelit” sagte er, “Deutscher jüdischen Glaubens” – “Jude, ja” sprach mancher und streckte sich, und die Kreuze verblichen jedem.  Und wie die frischesten am Tische standen, fast noch blutend, aus Rumänien hergeweht, der Dobrudscha, der Somme…

Der Mond verlor der Schein, Wind wehte heftiger ins Dunkel, Azrael hob die Hand, das Feld lag leer, überbuscht von zerstiebendem Scheine.  Nacht brach herein, ganz schwarz, am Rande zerloht von der Esse Verdun brüllend hinter den Höhen.

Aber es war den toten Juden kein Halt mehr auf dem Grund ihrer Gräber.  Sie sanken, langsam glitten und seelenlos tiefer die Körper abwärts, tiefer hinab.  Ein Strom, schwarz und lautlos, floss in den Adern der Erde, er nahm sie auf und wälzte sie ostwärts; runde Walze wurde jeder, schrumpfte, ward gross wie ein Ziegel und ganz weich.  Und er warf sie aus im frühen Morgen, mündend unter Palmen ans Licht einer jubelnden Sonne, die stieg aus dem Meer.  Ein grosser Mann aber mit schwarzem, breitem Bart, dem rügenden Blick und der Schürze des Werkmannes, die Kelle rechts neben sich liegend und links das nackte Schwert, ergriff einen jeden und presste ihn, er ward in der Sonne hart zum Stein und gefüat in ein niederes Mauerwerk, und Walze neben Walze warf der Strom ihm zu Füssen.  Stein neben Stein setzte der Mauernde, er sah nicht auf.  Ein Greis trat zu ihm und grüsste ihn, ein junges Lächeln lag wie Morgenrot auf altem Fels über verwitterter Stirn und dem greisen Barte.  “Gegrüsst sei, der am Turme mauert”, sagte er, und: “Gedankt dem, der die Tochter Zions erblickt hat”, antwortete der Baumeister und setzte einen Stein.  “Die Tochter Zions ist auf dem Wege”, sprach Akiba, und der Schaffer errötete vor Glück.  Ich aber konnte nicht mehr an mich halten: “Oh Akiba”, rief ich, “wann kommt der Messias!”  Sein Blick prüfte meine Seele.  “Vor den Toren Roms sitzt ein buckliger Bettler, der Messias, und wartet”, sprach er; mich erschreckt’ es wie Drohung.  “Worauf wartet er, Meister? rief ich voll Angst.  “Auf dich” sprach der Greis und wandte sich.  Und ich erwachte vor jähem, grellem, herzerneuerndem Schreck.

This is Zweig’s text as published in Siegfried Jacobsohn’s Die Schaubühne (Band 13, Ausgabe 1 [Volume 13, Issue 1]).  You can see that it appears on three successive pages.

And…here are the cover and title pages of the same issue of Die Schaubühne, which can be found at OogleBooks.

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Zweig’s tale is as vivid, as it is haunting, as it is compelling.  Below, I’ve transformed it into a prose poem, the appearance of which, though entirely identical in content to the original text, perhaps lends it a degree of visual impact not apparent in the text in the original paragraph format. 

The Jewish Census at Verdun

At midnight a soft hand touched me:
“Get up”.
I stepped in front of the door of the silent bunkhouse and saw:
“Azrael, cherub who commands the dead, fell from the night sky –
vengeful anger –
blew the shofar and cried:
“To the count, you dead Jews in the German army!”

Before long the field swarmed with silent figures up to the rolling hills,
behind which the Fortress of Verdun roared,
fanned anew,
and their little bastards roared loudly;
flames erupted terribly, twitching and shattering the wailing night on the gun’s horizon.
The wind flew from Orion, which hung feebly over the heights in dim veils. 
Murmurs trembled over the area; a gloomy glow surrounded thousands.

A table stood, a large book open,
and a clerk in uniform sat behind it, pointy-nosed with yellow hair.
He called:

“Line up according to rank!
The roll of names of the people is to be recognized!”
Then a gentle voice said:
“Oh, why don’t you let us sleep,
since we were already lying in the restful arms of the earth!”
And the writer:
“Statistics ask how many of you Jews pressed themselves to their graves from the distant war.”  Groans rose from the ground,
as if the earth was wailing, and the voice cried out painfully:

“Great fatherland, I intended to die and rest for you!”
But a whirlwind stirred the dead;
they stood at the table one after the other,
captains and medical officers
first and lieutenants and doctors,
sergeants and watch-masters,
non-commissioned officers, privates,
common soldiers.
And the scribe put a dry quill in each hand;
it flowed like a scratched finger;
each one wrote his Hebrew name in small red letters that shone like square seals. 
There the corpses stood patiently and waited,

and whoever wrote silently placed on the table the badges he wore and stood back,
as one in the crowd.
There lay the thick epaulettes of the medical officers and the silver ones of the officers,
sword knots like silver eggs,
the braids of the non-commissioned officers,
the small batons of the Rod of Asclepius,
the big buttons of privates;
the Iron Crosses of the First Class and like many of the Second Class,
other crosses and medals, black and white ribbons in all sorts of colors.
But the heap swelled on the table.

The quiet men approached, wrote and became a crowd.
The outline of the old body surrounded it like a light aura,
phosphorescent like rotten wood;
but the darker core was given by the body which was laid in the grave in due time.
The bellies were eaten away by typhus and hollowed out by dysentery.
Their heads showed holes from bullets,
half of their skulls had been carried off by grenades,
arms were missing,
broken legs and ribs protruded from tattered uniforms;
they were bandaged, clothed in rags,
without boots;
dead eyes looked gloomy,
white light fell from lowered foreheads,
the dead were silent in shame and mourning.
Youngsters stood next to boys and young men next to mature ones.
And they stated how old they were and where they were born:
everywhere in Germany,
and what their professions were:
teachers and lawyers,
rabbis and doctors,
travelers,
many students of all faculties,
pupils,
painters,
young poets,
merchants,
craftsmen and merchants in turn and merchants again and again.
And where fallen; where did they lie in the grave?
Near Lille, they said, and Pozieres, all along the Somme,
Thiaumont it was called and Azannes,
Fleury and Vaux,
Champagne,
Argonne,
Vosges,
all of Flanders (they lay in the damp ground the longest);
Bzuraklangs,
East Prussia,
the Carpathians,
the Slota Lipa (which was called Sanward),
Kovno and Dunaburg,
Volhynian swamp,
Hungarian forest,
Serbian mountain,
Galician valley:
and Azrael, the angel, nodded at everyone,
he had sown them like seeds, thrown far away here; there.
Everything was written down in the book,
the pen moved, small red letters appeared on the pale sheet.
But a bright cross shone over the forehead of some who were baptized;
the writer asked everyone:
Jew?
And he nodded, he said, “You know”; he said,
“Mosaic denomination”;
“Israelite” he said,
“German of Jewish faith” –
“Jew, yes” some said and stretched, and the crosses faded from everyone.
And as the freshest stood at the table, almost still bleeding,
blown from Romania, the Dobruja, the Somme…

The moon lost its shine,
the wind blew more violently into the darkness,
Azrael raised his hand,
the field lay empty, overgrown with scattered light.
Night fell, all black,
blazing at the edge of the forge of Verdun roaring behind the heights.

But the dead Jews could no longer stand at the bottom of their graves.
They sank; slowly and soullessly the bodies slid deeper down, deeper down.
A river, black and soundless, flowed in the veins of the earth,
taking it up and rolling it eastward;
each one became a round cylinder, shrunk, became as big as a brick and very soft.
And it threw them out in the early morning,
flowing under palm trees into the light of a jubilant sun that rose from the sea.
But a tall man with a broad black beard,
a reproachful look and a workman’s apron,
the trowel lying to his right and his naked sword to his left,
seized each one and pressed it;
it became hard as a stone in the sun and laid it into low masonry,
and the stream threw roller after roller at his feet.
The waller put stone next to stone; he didn’t look up.
An old man came up to him and greeted him,
a young smile lay like dawn on old rock over the weather-beaten forehead and the aged beard. “Greetings to he who builds the tower,” he said, and:
“Thanks to him who has seen the daughter of Zion,” answered the builder and set a stone.
“The daughter of Zion is on her way,” said Akiba, and the maker blushed with happiness.
But I could no longer contain myself:
“Oh Akiba,” I cried, “when will the Messiah come?”
His gaze examined my soul.
“At the gates of Rome a hunchbacked beggar, the Messiah, sits and waits,” said he;
it frightens me like a threat.
“What is he waiting for, Master?” I cried out in fear.
“For you” said the old man and turned.
And I awoke to a sudden, glaring, heart-breaking shock.

An observation…

Zweig’s concluding paragraph struck a distant chord of memory within me.  I vaguely remembered that I’d encountered a legend concerning the resurrection of the dead in Messianic days, to the effect that they will literally roll across land and under sea to reach Eretz Israel.  My memory was correct, and was verified at Jack Zaientz’s blog, “Jewish Monster Hunting: A Practical Guide to Jewish Magic, Monsters, and Mayhem”, in his post “First we die.  Then we roll.  A “Rolling To Jerusalem” Subway Map.”  This references Talmud, Kettubot 111a (3) at Sefaria, in which the following debate is recorded:

וּלְרַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר, צַדִּיקִים שֶׁבְּחוּץ לָאָרֶץ אֵינָם חַיִּים?! אָמַר רַבִּי אִילְעָא: עַל יְדֵי גִּלְגּוּל. מַתְקֵיף לַהּ רַבִּי אַבָּא סַלָּא רַבָּא: גִּלְגּוּל לְצַדִּיקִים צַעַר הוּא! אָמַר אַבָּיֵי: מְחִילּוֹת נַעֲשׂוֹת לָהֶם בַּקַּרְקַע.

“The Gemara asks: And according to the opinion of Rabbi Elazar, will the righteous outside of Eretz Yisrael not come alive at the time of the resurrection of the dead?  Rabbi Ile’a said: They will be resurrected by means of rolling, i.e., they will roll until they reach Eretz Yisrael, where they will be brought back to life.  Rabbi Abba Salla Rava strongly objects to this: Rolling is an ordeal that entails suffering for the righteous.  Abaye said: Tunnels are prepared for them in the ground, through which they pass to Eretz Yisrael.”

Another observation…

There’s “something” about the concluding three sentences of Zweig’s text:

“What is he waiting for, Master?” I cried out in fear.
“For you” said the old man and turned.
And I awoke to a sudden, glaring, heart-breaking shock.

Specifically, there’s a remarkable similarity to the closing lines of Franz Kafka’s “Before the Law”:

“What do you still want to know, then?” asks the gatekeeper.
“You are insatiable.”
“Everyone strives after the law,” says the man,
“so how is that in these many years no one except me has requested entry?”
The gatekeeper sees that the man is already dying and,
in order to reach his diminishing sense of hearing, he shouts at him,
“Here no one else can gain entry, since this entrance was assigned only to you.
I’m going now to close it.”

In both cases, the anonymous narrator implores of an authority figure – Rabbi Akiva, or, “the gatekeeper” – that his future course of action, or, secret knowledge, be revealed.  The two answers lead to dramatically different outcomes:  In Zweig’s tale, the narrator lives, and, transformed, faces a perhaps revised future, which is entirely dependent on his choice of action.  In Kafka’s story, the narrator is at the point of death, the outcome of events – perhaps preordained by circumstance or providence? – having already been preordained for him.

I have no idea of the degree of Kafka and Zweig’s familiarity with one another’s works, but they were contemporaries, the former having been 29 years old in 1916, and the latter 32.  Being that “Before the Law” (“Vor dem Gesetz”) was published in the 1915 New Year’s edition of the independent Jewish weekly Selbstwehr, the possibility exists that the final lines of “Judenzählung vor Verdun” were inspired by Zweig’s reading of Kafka’s tale.

Having come this far, one can readily appreciate Zweig’s literary talents.  The piece is short – a little less than a thousand words in length – yet even with this economy of words, the imagery of the tale is stunning in its clarity, in terms of physical setting, atmosphere, mood, and the description of the fallen as both spirit and body; spirit in body. 

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Arnold Zweig, 1916 (From deutsche-kinemathek)

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Arnold Zweig, New York City, 1939 (Photo by Eric Schaal)

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Arnold Zweig, Haifa, Yishuv, 1939 (Photographer Unknown)

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I’ve not read any other works by Zweig, but given his skill and imagination; his ability to so powerfully craft scene and mood; the era in which he was active – the first half of the twentieth century – I can readily envision him – if the trajectory of his life had been different, having been a masterful and successful writer of pulp fiction, perhaps in the genres of adventure, fantasy, or horror.  Perhaps his work would have appeared in such pulps as The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction; Weird Tales; Unknown; Fantastic Novels.  It’s nice to speculate…

The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, December, 1950 (Absolutely wonderful cover art! – by Chesley Bonestell) (From my own collection.)

Fantastic Novels, July, 1950 (Cover art by “Lawrence” (Lawrence Sterne Stevens)), illustrating Moore and Kuttner’s “Earth’s Last Citadel”) (Also from my own collection.  (Shameless self-promotion!)  See more of such, here.)

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Zweig’s macabre story concludes by transitioning to a scene of transformative and mystical renewal – an explicitly collective renewal – with startling abruptness, revealing to the narrator; to the reader – to us, even and especially in this year of 2023 – that to the Jews is granted the ability to return. 

And so, in symbolic answer to the anonymous narrator’s awakening, let’s wordlessly conclude with an allegorical image entitled “Der Jüdische Mai” [“The Jewish May”], from Ephraim Moses Lilien’s, Sein Werk, published in 1903 in Berlin.  (Specifically, page 280 in volume 2.)

For your consideration: Some references…

Arnold Zweig, at…

Wikipedia

Britannica

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

GoodReads

Kuenste im Exil [Art in Exile]

Deutsche Kiemathek [German Cinema Library]

University of Massachusetts DEFA Film Library

Mahler Foundation

Internet Movie Database

Geni.com

FindAGrave

Die Schaubühne [“The Stage”], at …

Internet Archive

… Wikipedia (Die Weltbühne)

Weimar Berlin

University of Michigan Digital Library

Die Schaubühne (Band 13, Ausgabe 1 [Volume 13, Issue 1]), pages 115-117

…at OogleBooks

Siegfried Jacobsohn, at…

Wikipedia

FindAGrave

Franz Kafka, at…

Wikipedia

“Before the Law”, at…

Wikipedia

Azrael, at…

Wikipedia

Some books…

Eisenberg, Noah William, Between Redemption and Doom – The Strains of German-Jewish Modernism, University of Nebraska Press, 1999

Grabolle, Harro, Verdun And the Somme, Akademiai Kiado, Budapest, Hungary, 2004

Hüppauf, Bernd-Rüdiger, War, Violence, and the Modern Condition, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin, Germany, 1997

Franz Kafka – The Complete Stories

Lilien, Ephraim Mose, and Zweig, Stefan, E. M. Lilien, Sein Werk, mit einer Emleitung von Stefan Zweig, band zwei, Schuster & Loeffler, Berlin, Germany, 1903, OCLC 7720842

Vital, David, A People Apart – A Political History of the Jews in Europe, 1789-1939, Oxford University Press, 2001

Vital, David, A People Apart – A Political History of the Jews in Europe, 1789-1939, at GoodReads.com

Wenzel, Georg, Arnold Zweig, 1887-1968 : Werk und Leben in Dokumenten und Bildern : mit unveröffentlichten Manuskripten und Briefen aus dem Nachlass [Arnold Zweig, 1887-1968: Work and life in documents and images: with unpublished manuscripts and letters from the estate], Aufbau-Verlag, Berlin, 1978

Zweig, Arnold, and Struck, Hermann, Das ostjüdische Antlitz [The Eastern Jewish Face], Berlin Weltverlag, Berlin, Germany, 1922

(Das ostjüdische Antlitz includes many, many thematic sketches by Hermann Struck, none of which, unfortunately, have captions.  (Oh, well!)  This drawing of a young woman appears on page 112.)

Some articles…

Angress, Werner T., The German Army’s “Judenzahlung” of 1916 Genesis – Consequences – Significance, Leo Baeck Institute Yearbook, V 23, N 1, 1978

Gelley, Alexander, On the “Myth of the German-Jewish Dialogue”: Scholem and Benjamin, University of California, Irvine, 1999

Goldberg, Amos, “German-Jewish Symbiosis” – Against the Background of the 30s – Excerpt from interview with Professor Yehuda Bauer, Director of the International Center for Holocaust Studies of Yad Vashem, Jerusalem, Israel

And, otherwise…

The World at War, The Jews in War: Jewish Military Service in World War One, in David Vital’s “A People Apart”

Thoughts from The Frontier: Jacob Lestschinsky, Demographer and Scholar

Reading – whether fiction or non-fiction – is a journey to places real or imagined.  Some literary destinations are both, particularly those in the genre of alternate history.  In the overlapping realms of science fiction, and, speculative fiction, this is exemplified by Philip K. Dick’s The Man in The High Castle (see also…) and Cyril M. Kornbluth’s 1957 novella Two Dooms (…also see) Both tales, set in a post-1945 America, occur in a world where the Third Reich and Imperial Japan have defeated the Allies, and, the United States is geographically divided into zones of occupation controlled by the two victorious Axis powers.  

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Photograph of Philip K. Dick by Nicole Panter, in Alexander Star’s article “The God in the Trash: A Review of the Works of Philip K. Dick“, in The New Republic, December 6, 1993

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The foundation of these two works, and the myriad of other tales in this genre – regardless of geographic or temporal setting – is that either a single and distinct event, or, the unanticipated confluence of a series of ostensibly unrelated events, has eventuated in history flowing along a river of time different – dramatically or subtly; humorously or horrifically – from that of the world we know.

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Cyril M. Kornbluth, 1939 (Photo by Robert A. Madle, from cover of His Share of Glory – The Complete Short Science Fiction of C. M. Kornbluth (1997), Edited by Timothy P. Szczesuil)

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This world. 

The world in which you’re reading this blog post, at this point in time.

(Right here.)

(Right now.)

Given the staggering impact of the Second World War – whether ideologically, demographically, technologically, or bureaucratically; an impact that is continuing today, in 2023 – it’s not surprising that that near-eight-decade-old conflict would be the setting for writers as skilled and perceptive as Dick and Kornbluth, however different they were in life experience, world-view, and literary style. 

However, what about the First World War as a springboard for a tale of alternate history? 

An example published in the year 2000 is Martin J. Girdon’s The Severed Wing.  In his novel, Mr. Gidron has imagined a world where the First World War ended with an outcome stunningly different than that of “our” world”: The Russian monarchy was never overthrown; Imperial Russia was never transformed into the Soviet Union; Communism never wreaked horror across the world; there was never a Shoah.  And with all, there was never a Second World War.  (Mr. Gidron discusses such details in detail in his closing “Author’s Note,” paralleling Leo Tolstoy’s afterword to War and Peace.)  And yet, while the world created by Mr. Gidron is dramatically unlike ours, it is still a world most human: a world of military alliances, geopolitical conflict, and unrelenting social and economic uncertainty, as exemplified in the life and fate of its protagonists, Janusz and Irena.

While I won’t present any “spoilers” in this post, suffice to say that the novel is very well-written and the plot smartly and well-conceived.  A particularly eerie aspect of Gidron’s novel is the way in which, through a succession of events of steadily and (as we know…) irrevocably greater impact, the world of The Severed Wing is supplanted with and completely replaced by our world.  The novel’s notable difference from The Man in The High Castle and Two Dooms is the near-absence of a science-fiction ambience, though one could justifiably include the book in that literary genre.  In this, I think it’s close in tone to Ward Moor’s brilliantly executed Bring the Jubilee – (ohhh, has that novel long-deserved a feature film or mini-series!!!) about a world in which the Confederacy won the Civil War, in indirectly posing questions about the nature of free will, destiny, and fate. 

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Portrait of Ward Moore, from his FindAGrave biographical profile, by contributor RPD2

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Otherwise, by nature and intention, Jewish history and Jewish destiny (I suppose the destiny of the Jews will be revealed in time, but “that” time will never be our time) are entirely and intentionally central to The Severed Wing, unlike Dick’s or Kornbluth’s works.  

In all this, I cannot say that I “l i k e d” the conclusion of The Severed Wing – I did not – but I did appreciate it.  (Well, if I restricted my reading to books about bouncing bunny rabbits with winsome eyes, I wouldn’t be reading much of anything!)

So, here are the novel’s front and read covers.  (For your consideration.)

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I read The Severed Wing in the early 2000s.  

About a decade and a half later, amidst reviewing, examining, and otherwise-looking-at issues of the Jewish Frontier at the Dorot Jewish Division of the New York Public library, I discovered works of a vastly different sort of writer, written in an altogether different sort of context, that – by virtue of their timing – immediately; eerily reminded me of Gidron’s novel.  The context?  The journal Jewish Frontier (on 35mm microfilm, remember that?!).  The writer?  Jacob Lestschinsky.

As described in his biographical profile at YIVO and Wikipedia, Lestschinsky (8/26/76-3/22/66) was a historian and sociologist specializing in Jewish demography and economic history.  He lived in Ukraine, Switzerland, Poland, Germany, Czechoslovakia, Latvia, and Poland once more, before – was it prescience, luck, or something else? – moving to the united States in 1938, where he lived until going on aliyah in 1959.  As an academic and journalist who lived during an era and in a world of enormous and perhaps inescapable political and social turbulence, Lestschinsky had a complex professional life, which included working for ORT (The Society for Handicraft and Agricultural Work among the Jews of Russia (Obshchestvo Remeslennago i Zemledelecheskago Truda Sredi Evreev v Rossii), helping to organize the Fareynikte Yidishe Sotsialistishe Arbeter Partey (United Jewish Socialist Party), working as a correspondent for the Forverts, being a founding member of the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, editing Bleter far yidisher demografye, statistik, un ekonomik in the mid-1920s, and throughout his career, writing for Jewish newspapers and periodicals.

In terms of Lestschinsky’s scholarship, Gennadiy Estraikh, in Science in Context (2007) notes the former as having been the author of over 35 academic papers, while a search of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency’s database yields 53 “hits” listing Lestschinky’s name in news items published between 1926 and 1966.  At the Center for Jewish History, his “Correspondence with individuals and institutions” comprises about 1,800 letters.

I’ve had no success in finding his photographic portrait, but his biography at YIVO includes three images in which he appears with other intellectuals, writers, and YIVO members.  I’ve taken the liberty of editing (“Photoshop-Elementing”, that is) these images, which are shown below, accompanied by YIVO’s captions:

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“Jakob Lestschinsky (second from right), historian Simon Dubnow (center), Meyer Abraham Halevy from Bucharest (left), and other delegates to the YIVO Conference pose at the grave of Tsemaḥ Szabad, a physician, leader of the Folkist party, and founder of YIVO, Vilna, 1935.” 

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“A gathering of Jewish intellectuals in Kulautuva, Lithuania, 1920 or 1921.  Those identified in the photograph include journalist Reuven Tsarfat (2, in fedora); Bal-Makhshoves (4, wearing white boater); Dovid Bergelson (6, on ground with his head on his neighbor’s knee), his wife (10, seated, second from left), and son (5, small child to Bergelson’s left); Zelig Kalmanovitch (7, with striped tie, center); Jakob Lestschinsky (8, to Kalmanovitch’s right); and Nokhem Shtif (9, to the left of Bergelson’s wife).”

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“Shmuel Niger (second from right, hand-numbered “3”), his brother, the writer Daniel Tsharni (second from left, “2”), scholar Jakob Lestschinsky (left, “1”), and others, on a trip to the Alps, ca. 1920s.  Photograph by M. Aschwarden.”

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Lestschinsky’s writings in the Jewish Frontier, all penned while he resided in the United States, pertain to the same topics as his scholarly work:  They profile life in the Jewish communities of Eastern Europe in vocational / professional, economic, and demographic terms, effectively capturing a late 1930s sociological snapshot of the world Eastern European Jewry … only one year before the commencement of the Second World War.  Though entirely substantive, direct, and grimly unflinching in content, and characterized by statistics and quantitative information, the quality of Lestschinsky’s writing is excellent, and comports well with the serious but not-necessarily-too-academic tone of the Jewish Frontier.

Four of these items were published as a series from June through September of 1938, each installment pertaining to a different Eastern European region or country.  These titles comprise:

The Jews of Central Europe – June, 1938
The Fate of Six Million – July, 1938
Jews in Baltic Lands – August, 1938
In Fascist Rumania – September, 1938

A fifth item, published five months before the war’s September beginning, specifically describes conditions experienced (well, a more apt word would be endured) by Jewish students in Polish academic institutions.  The appropriate title:

Terror in Polish Universities – April, 1939

Lestschinsky’s sixth and last item in the Jewish Frontier pertains to the Jews of the Soviet Union, but – the Second World War having ended three years previously – covers Jewish life in the Soviet Union during the early years of the (first?!) Cold War.  Paralleling the refreshing, anti-Communist, anti-leftist ethos of the Jewish Frontier from the mid-1930s through the early 1950s, Lestschinsky, too, has a deeply skeptical and worried (in retrospect, more than validly so) view of the future of Jewish life in the Soviet Union.  The title:

Jewish Expressions in the U.S.S.R. – December, 1948

And so, my next bunch of posts will be comprised of Lestschinsky’s Jewish Frontier articles, one article per post, verbatim. 

The one conclusion that can be drawn from the articles, especially those from 1938, is that even if the river of time had traversed an altogether different and infinitely more benign course, Eastern European Jewry – in a collective sense; as it existed under conditions prevailing in the 1930s – would have intentionally and steadily reduced to an abject, irrecoverable level of penury and social degradation.  Lestschinsky proposed no explicit answers to this awful predicament, but he didn’t need to:  The very publication of his articles in a publication unapologetically devoted to Zionism was his answer.  

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In the meantime, here are some sort-of-randomly chosen news articles about, or mentioning, Jacob Lestschinsky, several found via FultonHistory.  They’re chronologically arranged, and illustrate how his scholarship appeared in both the general and Jewish news media, as opposed to specialized, professional, and academic venues. 

The central and haunting take-away in terms of raw numbers is how relatively little total Jewish numbers have changed across a century’s span. 

Then again, what will historians of the future (if there are historians in the future) write of the world of 2023; the world as a whole; the Jewish world?  

I won’t broach that question.

Oh.  Seems I just did.

Whether for good, ill, or neither, perhaps it is best that the future remains unknown to man.     

Some articles…

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Estimates 14,830,832 Jews in World

The New York Times
August 7, 1925

BERLIN, Aug. 4 (Jewish Telegraphic Agency). – The dispute concerning the total number of Jews in the world has become more complicated by the publication here of new figures gathered by Jacob Lestschinsky, who says that the total is 14,830,832.  According to the American Jewish Yearbook the total is 13,000,000, while Trietsch’s estimate is 17,000,000.  Besides these figures there are others less authoritative compiled in America and elsewhere.

New York State Digital library
New York State Digital library

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Jewish Population Is Put at 16,000,000
World Total is Five Times That
of a Century Ago German
Authority States

The Evening Leader (Corning, N.Y.)
November 1, 1932

During the last hundred years the world’s Jewish population has grown from 3,000,000 to 16,000,000, having quintupled in numbers from 1825 to 1925, whereas Europe, America, South Africa and Australia increased their population only three and a half times, according to figures published in the current number of the Menorah Journal by Jakob Lestschinsky of Berlin, an authority on Jewish demography.

“Never before,” Mr. Lestschinsky writes, says the New York Times, “were the Jews so numerous, nor to such a great extent gathered together in Metropolitan centres.  Almost a third of the Jewish people now live in the fourteen largest cities of the civilized world.

“Quintupling in numbers from 1825 to 1925, the Jewish people propagated at over one and one half times the rate of Europe’s population as a whole.  In no other period of their history have the Jews shown a similar growth.  Moreover, this phenomenal increase was achieved not through Increased birth rate but through extraordinarily reduced death rata.

Rate of Increase High

“In the 55 years from 1825 to 1880 the Jewish numbers grew from 3,280,000 to 7,660,000; and in the halt century from 1880 to 1930 their numbers grow again to 15,800,000.  In each of these periods they mora than doubled.

“This unprecedented increase seems all the mora remarkable when we recall that during the last half century the East European Jews were engulfed by three large pogrom-waves (1881-82, 1903-5 and 1918-21), with 2,000 massacres in which approximately 100,000 Jews were murdered and from 200,000 to 300,000 prematurely died of epidemics.”

What may properly be called “World-Jewry,” the writer says, arose only during the last century.  Out of a small people, the greater majority living in Southeastern Europe, Asia Minor and North Africa, and strewn about in innumerable villages and small towns, forming tiny, unimportant islands in vast Gentile seas, the Jews have expanded over the entire world, settling in the industrially most advanced countries and concentrating in the largest cities.

“The geographical map of Jewry of a hundred years back,” he writes, “shows plainly that the Jews warn at that time crowded together in the most backward countries: In the Russian part of Europe, in Poland and Galicia, in the Balkans, in North Africa and Asia Minor.

Migrations to the West

“In the course of the century huge Jewish migrations took place from East to West; from the agrarian to the Industrial countries, from political despotisms to democratic nations, from the spheres of Slavic-Arabian culture to those of English-German culture.

“Perhaps the most striking change has come about in America, which now contains about a third of world Jewry, whereas a hundred years ago it contained only one-third of 1 per cent – no less than a hundredfold multiplication.”

In the fourteen largest cultural centres in Europe and America, of more than 1,000,000 inhabitants each, there are now 4,500,000 Jews – almost 20 per cent of the entire Jewish people.  New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston and Cleveland have 2,750,000 Jews, or more than 80 per cent of the entire Jewish population in the United States.

More than 6,000,000 of the world Jewry, or 38.6 per cent, are engaged in trade, contracting and banking.  The next largest group, 5,750,000, of 36.4 per cent, is engaged in Industry and handicraft.  A million, or 6.3 per cent, are professional men and public officers: 625,000 are engaged in agriculture, 325,000 are houseworkers and diverse hirelings, while 2,000,000 are without vocations.

New York State Digital library
New York State Digital library

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30 PCT. OF JEWS LIVE IN AMERICAS

Nearly Two-Thirds Are in Europe, New Survey Discloses.

The Evening Star (Washington, D.C.)
April 10, 1936

WARSAW, April 10 (Jewish Telegraphic Agency). – A total world Jewish population of 16,240,000 of whom 5,000,000, or 30 per cent, live in the Americas it has been reported by the Jewish Scientific Institute in a statistical survey published in the publication, Yivo Bletter.

The survey, conducted by Jacob Lestschinsky, economist and writer, as of the beginning of 1936, shows the world Jewish population increased 1,300,000 in the last 10 years.

The distribution of the Jews has remained stationary.  More than 60 per cent of them, about 10,000,000, live in Europe, 5,000,000 In the Americas, more than 5 per cent, or 500,000, in Asia, and the rest, about 30,000, in Australia.

More than 10,000,000 Jews, or two-thirds, live in three countries.  The United States has 4,450,000, Poland has 3,150,000 and Soviet Russia 3,080,000.

The Jews are scattered over 30 countries, of. which only four – the above three and Rumania – have more than 1,000,000.  Seventeen countries have more than 100,000 Jews.  The number of Jews shows an increase in every country except Germany, Austria, Hungary, Switzerland, Italy and Turkey.

Digital Newspaper Archives of US & Canada
Digital Newspaper Archives of US & Canada

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Jewish Population

The Southern Jewish Weekly
June 6, 1952

The figures indicating the Jewish population in various sections of the world, released last week by the World Jewish Congress, are substantially similar to those made available earlier in the year in the American Jewish Year Book for 5712, published jointly by the American Jewish Committee and the Jewish Publication Society.

The present study, made by Dr. Jacob Lestschinsky, statistician and demographer, shows that “wars and anti-Jewish terror in Europe, the birth of Israel and other factors led to the migration of more than 4,000,000 Jews since the turn of the century, thus changing the entire Jewish demographic picture.”

Coming closer home, the United States is given a Jewish population of five million; Argentina, 400,000; Canada, 200,000; Brazil, 120,000; with the Jewish population in other eighteen Latin-American countries estimated at 150,000.

Of especial significance, Dr. Lestschinsky points out is the “remarkably swift growth of the Jewish community in the Holy Land, where the Jewish population has increased forty-fold in the last fifty years, rising from 35,000 in 1900 to 1,400,000 at the end of 1951.”  One shudders to contemplate what might have happened to a preponderant majority of these 1,400,000 men, women and children had Israel not been eager, even though not prepared, to receive them.  This may not come within the purview of the statistician; it must not be overlooked by those who read his figures.

In Europe, that is, with the exception of the Jewish groups behind the Iron Curtain, there are only two major Jewish communities – Britain with a Jewish population of 400,000, and France with a Jewish population of 240,000.

All of which furnishes an interesting picture of world Jewry today.

Digital Newspaper Archives of US & Canada
Digital Newspaper Archives of US & Canada

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This April, 1966 issue of The National Jewish Post and Opinion (of Indiana) is interesting on two counts. 

First, it mentions Jacob Lestschinsky’s passing in Jerusalem. 

Second, it carries an obituary for and tribute to a man whose life took a far different path: Israel Jacobson of Rochester, New York, who at the young age of forty-four (young even in 1966) passed away only a week before Lestschinsky.  Though Jewish affairs in upstate New York would ostensibly have little relevance to Jewish life in Indiana, it turns out that Israel Jacobson, as T/Sgt. Israel Jacobson (12017570), heavily decorated for military service as an infantryman in the North African campaign, was the subject of several articles in Rochester and Buffalo newspapers in mid-1965.  These related his belated receipt of military awards, and (perhaps because he’d been a boxer before entering the military) his struggle with cancer.  

A member of E Company, 18th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, Israel Jacobson was the son of Rabbi Harry Jacobson, of 60 Baden Street, in Rochester.  Born in Poland on November 2, 1921, he passed away on March 20, 1966, and is buried at Britton Road Cemetery, in Rochester.  His name appears on page 351 of American Jews in WW II, which records that he received the Silver Star with one Oak Leaf Cluster, Bronze Star, and Purple Heart (he was wounded in mid-February of 1943) with one Oak Leaf Cluster.  His wartime story was noted in The American Hebrew (6/11/43), Chicago Jewish Chronicle (5/28/43), and Rochester Times Union (3/26/43, 8/24/43, 7/11/45), while postwar, news articles about him appeared in the Buffalo Courier-Express, Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, and Jamestown Post-Journal.

Jacob Lestschinsky

National Jewish Post and Opinion
April 1, 1966

JERUSALEM – Jacob Lestschinsky, dean of Jewish sociologists, died at the age of 89 last week following long illness.

A native of Russia, Lestschinsky was one of the founders of the Zionist Socialist Party and was a delegate to the Sixth Zionist Congress in 1903.

Later he devoted himself to Jewish sociology, publishing dozens of books and studies and countless articles in Hebrew, Yiddish, Russian, German and English.

Following the Bolshevik Revolution he moved to Poland, then to Germany, finally to the U.S.  In 1959 he settled in Israel – first in Tel Aviv and later in Jerusalem.

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RABBI’S SON ENTERS PRO PRIZE RING

The Wave (Rockaway Beach), July 11, 1946

After five years in uniform, ex-Army tech sergeant Israel Jacobson, the fighting son of a Rochester, N.Y., rabbi, has laid aside his carbine, and henceforth will restrict his fighting qualities to the professional prize ring as a Long Island’s bid for featherweight honors among the paid to punch brigade.

Twice overseas and twice wounded, “Battling Jacobson” as he has been dubbed by Long Island fight fans, participated in five major campaigns and two invasions.  He holds several Army awards including the Croix de Guerre, Silver Star Medal, Bronze Star Medal, New York State Conspicuous Service Cross, and the Purple Heart with Oak Leaf Cluster.

Wisely enough, Jacobson, now a resident of Queens, has placed his fistic destiny in the hands of Irwin Goldie, internationally known fight manager and former G.I. who managed Billy Conn’s overseas tour and promoted service boxing tournaments in London, Paris and Rome.

Sgt. Jacobson’s story travelled from Rochester to Long Island.  Here’s an article from The Wave (Rockaway Beach) from July 11, 1946:

Old Newspapers

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MEMORIAL SERVICES FOR LESTCHlNSKY HELD IN NEW YORK; DIED IN ISRAEL

Jewish Telegraphic Agency
April 27, 1966

NEW YORK, April 26.  (JTA) — Memorial services for the late Jacob Lestchinsky, Jewish sociologist and author, who died a month ago in Israel were held here today by the American section of the World Jewish Congress and YIVO, the Institute for Jewish Research.  Dr Maurice L. Perlzweig, director of the WJC department of international affairs, who presided at the services, noted that Dr. Lestchinsky was a founder of the Congress movement, and was known for many detailed studies and reports on the Jewish position in many parts of the world.  Other speakers were Prof. Salo Baron, Jewish historian, and C. Bezalel Sherman, chairman of the administrative committee of the WJC American section.  Mr. Lestchinsky died at 89, in Israel.

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For Your Further Enlightenment and Distraction…

Jacob Lestschinsky, at…

Wikipedia

he.Wikipedia

The YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe

Jewish Virtual Library

National Library of Israel (Catalog records of books, archives, articles, and miscellaneous items)

Center for Jewish History (Jacob Lestschinsky’s Correspondence with individuals and institutions, comprising about 1,800 letters)

World Jewish Population by Country, at…

Wikipedia

Estraikh, Gennadiy, Jacob Lestschinsky: A Yiddishist Dreamer and Social Scientist, Science in Context, V 20, N 2, 2007, pp. 215-237. (Bibliography lists over 35 works by Lestschinsky)

A Tale of a Tail Gunner: Louis Falstein and “Face of a Hero”

A Tale of a Tail Gunner: Louis Falstein and “Face of a Hero”

Sergeant Louis Falstein, Manduria, Italy, November, 1944

Sometimes, you have to change your routine…  

The great majority of my posts at TheyWereSoldiers have approached the subject of Jews in the military though biographical records, photographs, official documents, and in a few cases, interviews of veterans.  But, there’s far more to a man’s life than a straightforward recitation of dates, places, and events.  His thoughts and beliefs; his understanding of the world around him, let alone his “own” interior world, may only germinate well after an event has actually occurred, regardless of whether that event – at least in the unknowing eyes of others – is mundane or dramatic. 

And through this self-understanding, whether expressed in prose, poetry, the visual arts – or perhaps the irony of silence? – we can sometimes understand the nature of an era better, than through a nominal recitation of purely factual information.  (People, after all, can’t be reduced to mere numbers.  Though in 2022 many in the Managerial Professional Class would ardently wish it were so.)  One way of understanding the past – a very well-known way, at that – is through the novel.  

Louis Falstein’s 1950 novel Face of a Hero is a case in point.  With a bent towards writing well before the Second World War, Falstein, an aerial gunner in the 723rd Bomb Squadron of the 450th “Cottontails” Bomb Group, found in military service the inspiration for this work, his first published book.  Despite having received favorable to excellent reviews, his novel rapidly faded from prominence, only really returning to the public eye – and that, temporarily – in 1999.  This came about as the result of questions about the origin of another novel: Joseph Heller’s Catch-22, a work which has had enormous and continuing cultural and literary impact; a work – despite superficial similarities – utterly different in style and far more importantly ethos than Falstein’s novel.    

Face of a Hero merits a deeper view for what it reveals about Jewish military service in WW II; for its portrayal of WW II aerial combat from the vantage point of an enlisted man; for the way that the author built a fictional world from one of fact.  To that end, the following eleven (yep, count ’em, eleven!) posts cover different aspects of the novel, its author, and (to a limited extent), Catch-22

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[But first!…

…though this post was created on October 7, 2022, only yesterday – on October 18 – did I make a most fortuitous discovery: An audio interview of Louis Falstein by Warren Bower of WNYC Radio recorded on February 3, 1951.  This 23-minute-long interview is “Archives Item 69684 / Municipal Archives Item LT715”.]

In conversation with Louis Falstein, Mr. Bower, of New York University’s School of Continuing Education, at first asks about how the novel was constructed. 

It’s revealed that though Louis initially considered presenting his story from the vantage point of every one of the ten aviators in the crew of B-24 Liberator Flying Foxhole, this approach was rejected because he didn’t want to write a first novel that was “sprawling”.

So, he related and universalized the story through one man only – Ben Isaacs – to maintain “constant and dramatic movement” in the novel.  In turn, Mr. Bower suggests that Isaacs, “…is not more important than the other members of the crew,” to which author Falstein agrees.  However, Falstein adds that by “knowing” Isaacs better than the other nine crewmen and showing what he lived through, felt, thought, and learned, another dimension would emerge from the novel.

Stepping away from the novel’s contents, Mr. Bower addresses something ostensibly simple yet quite fundamental:  The origin of the book’s title.  When asked about the very meaning of “Face of a Hero”, Falstein replies that the title is intended to be realistic and not symbolic.  “A hero is comprised of many things.  A ‘hero’ is a very human, being, subject to many doubts, and many fears.  Ben Isaacs knew why he fought, and that is part of being a hero.”

Mr. Bower’s observations about the novel mirror those of several reviewers, specifically in terms of the book’s explicit (at least, for the time!) use of language.  When asked about this, Louis stated that the book reflected the reality of language as it was actually spoken by combat airmen, and that he didn’t want to forego linguistic realism.  This included the use of the phrase “a man went down,” rather than the irrevocably grim expression “having been killed”, for all but the most unambiguous circumstances pertaining to the loss of an aircrew.

Ultimately, when asked about the motivation for continuing to fly combat missions despite one’s ambivalence about his ability to serve as an airman, or, in the face of the enemy, Louis stated that, “Indoctrination and knowing that one has a just cause gives one a great deal of so-called ‘courage’, that one might lack,” adding that Ben Isaacs felt as if he were reborn on the end of his fiftieth mission.

Mr. Bower concludes his interview with thoughts similar to those of the novel’s reviewers, for he admires the way the book is written:  Simply, unostentatiously, and with no fancy style, but powerfully and impressively.

Though the radio program is about 23 minutes long, Mr. Bower’s interview of Louis Falstein only comprises its first eighteen minutes.  The final five minutes pertain to two recent books; fiction and non-fiction respectively.  The first is Ernest Hemingway’s latest work, Over the River and Into the Trees, of which Bower is highly critical (really – wow!), deeming the novel, “…a colossal bore,” suggesting that the author’s heart simply wasn’t in the work, which is simply a very thin autobiography.  The second book, coming in for very high praise, is Thor Heyerdahl’s Kon-Tiki.

Here’s Mr. Bower’s obituary, from The New York Times:

WARREN BOWER, TEACHER; WAS HOST OF RADIO SHOW

October 29, 1976

Warren Bower, professor emeritus of English and a former assistant dean of New York University’s School of Continuing Education, died Tuesday at St. Vincent’s Hospital.  He was 78 years old and lived at the Salmagundi Club, at 45 Fifth A venue.

Mr. Bower was well known as the host of a WNYC radio program, “The Reader’s Almanac,” which offered interviews with authors between 1938 and 1967.  In 1962 he was given the Peabody Award for the show, which reflected his deep interest in books and authors.

He was born in Elkhart, Ind., and graduated from Hillsdale College in 1920.  He earned his master’s degree from the University of Michigan in 1923.

Mr. Bower was the author of “The College Writer,” “New Directions” and “How to Write for Pleasure and Profit.”

He is survived by his wife, Lesley.

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And now (…minor drum roll, please…) here are the posts.  They are…

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1. A Tale of a Tail Gunner: Louis Falstein and “Face of a Hero” (This post!)

2: A Mirror of The Past (How I discovered Catch-22, and, Face of a Hero)

3: Louis Falstein’s War in the Air… Before, During, and After (Biographical overview of Louis Falstein’s life, focusing on his military service.)

4: First Published Writings: “Molto Buono”, and, “The New Republic”

5: The Events of the Novel (List and descriptions of characters in the novel; chronological list of events and details in the story)

6: Excerpts From the Novel – An Aviator’s Life and Thoughts

7: Excerpts From the Novel – Jewish Aviators at War

8: An Excerpt From the Novel – The Edge of Survival

9: The Art of The Novel (Cover and interior art of first (1950) edition of the novel, and its four subsequent editions.)

10: Book Reviews

11: After The Hero: Later Books (Illustrations of covers of Louis Falstein’s later works, with details about some.)

12: When Parallels Diverge – “Catch 22” and “Face of a Hero”

13: “Catch-22” In The Perspective of History

14: A Still, Small Voice; A Still, Small Novel

I’ll post these essays sequentially, rather than all at once, and link them to this introductory post, as I do so.

Here goes…

(Note: I want to thank Saul Schwarz for his “suggestion”: “Thanks, Saul!”)

Chronicles From World War One: Stories from the War – Non-Fiction (?) and Fiction

“What is your name?”

“David Freedman, your Excellency.”

“You’re a Jew?”

The spokesman nodded.

A pause.

“A Jew may fight well, your Excellency,” came the suggestion softly.

The Colonel looked up.  “How many were sent out?”

“Two thousand, your Excellency.”

“And there are only 300 now?”

The Jew nodded.

In the world of literature, fiction can sometimes reveal more about life than simple fact.

Though sometimes based on and emanating from reality, fiction can shed light on how that reality is interpreted and understood – by men as individuals and by the masses; by cultures and civilizations – within the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual context of an age.  Perhaps this is especially so for fiction emerging within and from a time of war.

For this post, here are two very different items – one fiction; one possibly fact – that address the experience of Jews during the Great War in very different ways.  The first is a news item pertaining to Jewish civilians in “Seletin” (probably “Selyatin“, Ukraine), in the context of the general experience of Jewish civilians in the Eastern War Zone.  The second, far lengthier item, is fiction: A story about the interaction of Jewish soldiers in the Russian Army with Jewish civilians in the Eastern War Zone, their Gentile comrades, and, officers. 

The full text of both items is presented below…

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The news item appeared in The Jewish World (brother publication of The Jewish Chronicle) in October of 1916.  Taken from the Arbeiter Zeitung of Austria, the item recounts the experience of a Jewish woman and her children during the occupation of her district by Cossack forces.  The outcome of the short account, concluding upon a note of skepticism and ambivalence, is vastly different from that of most contemporary stories about the treatment during WW I of Jews by Cossack troops (in both the secular and Jewish press) examples of which include “The Tragedy of Israel in Poland” (February 14, 1915), “Loyalty of Jews in War Lands Unshaken” (1915), and “How Russian Jews Suffered in War” (November 3, 1916).  In that regard, an underlying theme of this brief item – vaguely akin to Jacob A. Abramowitz’s “My Experience as a Jewish Cossack”, which appeared in The Jewish Exponent (of Philadelphia) on May 6, 1922 – is that of the incongruity between dire expectation and puzzling (and strangely benign?) reality.

Like the great majority of news items in both the Chronicle and World, the names of the item’s author, like that of the correspondent who provided it to the latter publication, is unknown.

The item…

The Cossack in a New Light
The Jewish World

October 11, 1916

An Austrian paper – the Arbeiter Zeitung – is responsible for a story concerning some Cossacks which represents them as far different than the popular notion conceives these gentlemen.  We are told that: –

When the Russians were occupying the Seletin district, a Jewess, her children gathered around her, was preparing her scanty evening meal, for provisions were at their scarcest.

There was a knock at the door, and with a look of horror the woman signed to her grown-up daughter to open it.  Three Cossacks stepped in, and shaking the snow from their cloaks asked for something to eat.  The woman offered all she had and, falling on her knees, begged mercy for her children.  The Cossacks looked at her wonderingly, remarking that they were not accustomed to eating human beings, and then, glancing round, noticed the signs of extreme poverty everywhere.

A short whispered conversation among them followed, and then two of the Cossacks went off, leaving the third to chop up some wood.  Half an hour later the Cossacks returned, bringing with them an ample store of eatables and drinkables.  They had visited the residence of a wealthy Jew, and the store of provisions which he had laid up for the Sabbath feast was now shared by the Cossacks with the Jewess and her little ones – the first good meal they had enjoyed for many months. 

We hope this is a true story, but frankly we should like to have the version of the matter as it appeared to the “wealthy Jew” who was deprived of his “Sabbath Feast”. 

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The second item, reprinted from the Jewish Comment (about which I’ve no information – !) is by Samuel Roth (likewise, about whom I’ve no information – !!).  It’s similar in length and representative of the literary style of other works of fiction, as well as non-fiction essays, published in The Jewish World during the Great War.

The distinguishing quality of Roth’s writing is its very subject:  While the main focus and central issue of most World War One-era literary pieces in The Jewish World is the perennial challenge of maintaining and above all perpetuating a sense Jewish peoplehood, let alone Jewish belief – within and through successive generations (the topic of intermarriage is a prominent theme*) within a world in which one’s identity is simultaneously a subject of fascination and deprecation (and more).  Roth’s story, however, uses the experience of Jews in the military as a setting to explore both the above conundrum, and, valor and physical courage on the part of Jews.

In terms of dramatis personae, Roth’s characters comprise:

Colonel Sergei Seminovich, an officer in the Russian Army’s 49th Infantry Regiment

Nikolai (last name not given; presumably a Private), a soldier of peasant background serving in Colonel Seminovich’s Regiment

Private David Freedman, newly assigned to Colonel Seminovich’s Regiment

Rivkeh, a Jewish woman, and owner of a dwelling in the village of “T.”, and acquaintance of David, whose husband is also serving in the Russian Army

Rivkeh’s un-named father

The story’s plot elements involve the striking contrast between the peasant soldier Nikolai and David; the interaction of David with Rivkeh and her family – particularly his bravery in protecting them from depredations by Nikolai and some of the latter’s fellow troops; David’s physical strength and leadership qualities, regardless of whether leading troops of Jewish or Russian nationality.  Finally, a striking aspect of Roth’s story – particularly in light of the characterization of the attitude of Russian WW I military officers towards Jews, as presented in earlier blog posts – is the attitude of Colonel Seminovich towards David: The Colonel shows neither favor nor disfavor towards David, treating him matter-of-factly, and within the context of the story, entirely fairly.  The tale ends with Colonel Seminovich attending David’s funeral, quietly commenting to himself, “God knows, it’s the only honour I can give him now,” before forwarding the Private’s altered surname to Warsaw for commendation.

* Perhaps I’ll bring you examples of such stories in future posts.

And so, “Reinforcements”…

Reinforcements
By Samuel Roth
The Jewish World

June 23, 1915

THE sky had been darkening swiftly, threatening at any moment to send down a furious rainstorm on the little band of soldiers, the remnant of that valiant forty-ninth regiment that a German battalion, falling upon them from the rear by a strategic move, had cut to pieces two days before.  The worn-out and frightened survivors lay huddle up in their tents, peering now at the black, fuming clouds, and again across the vast stretches of snow over which the reinforcements were now momentarily expected.  Col. Sergei Seminovich, the only remaining officer, walking imperiously through the camp and swearing softly under his breath, was behaving as though he believed that the god of Russia had spared his five-foot-ten just so that the soldiers might be able to look up to him and pick up courage. 

One of the soldiers, a big peasant with immense shoulders and menacing black eyes, had spread his blanket on the snow and, defying all military decency, was comfortably smoking a pipe.  The colonel paused at his tent and frowned.  “Nikolai, why don’t you lie in your tent?”

“It’s warmer out here,” was the sullen reply.

A slight pause.

“Perhaps you would like to take a run, Nikolai?”  The colonel’s voice had softened.

The giant rose with a grunt, stared at the colonel and shrugged his thick shoulders unconcernedly.  At the same time he emptied out his pipe on the snow.  The colonel gave him his own horse and a moment later the peasant was speeding across the plain.

The colonel looked after him for a moment in silence, then retired to his own tent.

An hour later Nikolai reappeared and dismounted before the colonel’s tent.

“Well?” asked the colonel coming out.  “Have you seen anything?”

Nikolai, holding one hand on the sadly, looked at the colonel steadfastly.  “A wagon-load of potatoes and a handful of Jews,” he answered.

The colonel’s face darkened.  “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

The peasant nodded.

Sergi Seminovich was lost in thought for a moment, then he nodded to his inferior to depart. 

Nikolai did not budge an inch.

“You may retire to your tent now,” he said, impatiently.

Nikolai grunted, patted the horse’s back, and turning round slowly walked unconcernedly toward his tent.

The colonel’s hand instinctively sought the hilt of his sword.  He hated that stupid, impertinent peasant.  He wanted to call him back, gaze at him sternly, and say:  “Why don’t you say ‘Yes, your Excellency,’ you rogue!”

But he realised that as matters stood he had to exercise extraordinary caution lest his men lose all courage and surrender themselves to the enemy.  He decided in his heart to put off the punishment for a more opportune time.

 A FEW minutes later the “reinforcements” arrived.  It had already spread among the soldiers that the newcomers consisted only of Jews and a few Poles.  …  So there were no demonstrations.

One of the newcomers, a middle-sized, stocky, man of about 40 years, a private, reported to the colonel.

“Where is your officer,” asked Sergei Seminovich, sternly.

“He fell in the march, your Excellency.”

“And there’s not an officer left?”

“No, your Excellency.  They fought bravely and – they died.”

“What is your name?”

“David Freedman, your Excellency.”

“You’re a Jew?”

The spokesman nodded.

A pause.

“A Jew may fight well, your Excellency,” came the suggestion softly.

The Colonel looked up.  “How many were sent out?”

“Two thousand, your Excellency.”

“And there are only 300 now?”

The Jew nodded.

The officer bit his lips as though he wished to say that those Germans were a lot of pests!

Five minutes after the arrival of the “reinforcements” the brow of the sky suddenly became as black as night, a blast of thunder broke the impatience of the heavens, and a terrific flood of rain poured down on the frozen plain, frightening even Nikolai into his tent.

The newcomers proceeded calmly though very swiftly with the erection of their tents.  Now and then a flash of lightning revealed them to the shivering soldiers peering fearfully out of their tents.

Their attention was drawn particularly by Freedman who, though not very tall and not as thick-shouldered as Nikolai, worked as though he were composed of steel and lightning.  They saw him drive a pole into the frozen ground with the same ease with which a child would dig a shovel into the sand.  His own tent was up in about a minute, but he did not enter it till every other tent was erected and every man was sheltered.

The storm raged fully an hour.  When it ceased night had already spread over the plain.

Nikolai was entering the colonel’s tent with the object of persuading him to let him have another blanket when he heard the Jewish spokesman petitioning the commander thus:

“Your Excellency, we had an eventful journey.  Besides, God has spared our lives.  The men want permission to pray.”

Nikola protruded his head into the midst, stared hard at the Jew and burst into a torrent of gruff laughter.  “Haw! haw! haw!  A nice camp this will be with Jewish prayers!  The devil take us all!”

The colonel gazed at the peasant sternly.  “Nikolai, retire!  And do thou not ever dare to intrude in that manner!”

Nikolai grinned and walked out.

Meanwhile, Freedman, without so much as glancing at the peasant, had not taken his eyes from the face of the colonel.

Sergei Seminovich turned to him regretfully.  “I fear I cannot grant you that.  It may cause a fatal dissension in the ranks.”

Freedman saluted and returned to his comrades.

THE lines were formed before dawn.  At noon the “remnant” reached the village of T.  From here Sergei Seminovich communicated with the general at Warsaw, revealed to him pitiful plight of his regiment, and pleaded that reinforcements be sent out immediately and under good care to the village, which seemed to be at a safe distance from the Germans.  A half hour after their arrival the colonel gave the soldiers permission to “look the place over” as they pleased.  Camps was for the time broken, and the soldiers scattered in all directions.

Freedman took a narrow path by himself and walked along thoughtfully.  It was a cold, clear day.  The mud on the ground was frozen, and the walking was fine.  He had only gone a slight distance when he came in front of a farmhouse that was still as though it were inhabited.  Seized by curiosity, he went up to the door and knocked upon it gently.  No response.  His second knock was a little louder.  Still no response.  This time he knocked heavily.  The window opened slowly for a moment so that he could not see who it was, but after waiting another minute he had the satisfaction of hearing heavy footsteps approaching the door.  The door was drawn open with a sudden jerk and Freedman found himself face to face with an aged, broad-shouldered man armed with a gun, whom he recognised as one of his own people. 

“I am one of the soldiers,” explained Freedman.  “We are staying here for some time.  I had no intention of entering here.  But the stillness of the place aroused my suspicions and so I knocked.”

The man in the doorway gazed at the soldier critically and said, articulating every syllable slowly, “I see you’re a Jew.”

Freedman nodded.

“It’s hard to tell a Jew in a Russian uniform,” continued the aged proprietor.  “Won’t you come in?”

Freedman hesitated a moment and entered.

The room gave evidence of a great deal of recent excitement.  Chairs were upset, knives and implements lay on the table, a middle-aged women and a girl who must have been her daughter were crouching in the centre of the room and the whimpering of children could be heard from underneath the beds.

Freedman smiled, and turning to the woman: “Your husband is in the army, is he not?”

“Yes,” the woman answered, sighing but turning her face away.

Freedman approached closer to her and paled perceptibly.  “I didn’t know I was going to meet you here, Rivkeh,” he said huskily.  She did not answer, but looked curiously over his strong, well-knit form.

The old man had meanwhile barred the door and was not approaching them.  He looked with surprise at the woman and the soldier.

“Why, father, this is David.  Don’t you remember?”  There was a tender ring in her voice.

“David!” he exclaimed.  “Sure, why”…  then he glanced at Rivkeh and did not complete his sentence.  “And how about heating the samovar in honour of our guest?”  he said instead.

Half an hour later complete peace had been restored in the household.  The whole family, including Freedman, were seated around the table drinking tea and chatting.

“So your husband is in the army against which you were just preparing to defend yourself.” He remarked.  Then, after a pause: “It’s a sad business, this.  And most of us are swallowed up in it.  I, too, shall never return!”

“Oh, you mustn’t talk that way!” exclaimed the woman.  “Your wife, your children.”

Freedman interrupted her.  “I have none, Rivkeh.  I – I have kept my word!”

The woman paled swiftly and turned her face away.

SUDDENLY voices gruff and boisterous became audible from without, and then a loud rap sounded against the door.  The whole house was again thrown into confusion.  Freedman, pistol in hand, went up to the door and unbarred it.  A number of soldiers led by Nikolai burst in, but paused at the menacing attitude of the Jew.  The latter addressed himself calmly to the leader: “Nikolai, I am known as a sure shot, and I cannot possibly miss you at this distance.  I give you a minute to take yourself and your friends out of here!”

Nikolai stared at him in sheer amazement.

“A half minute is up, Nikolai!  Your life is less valuable to me than that of a rat!”

Nikolai and his men, scowling fiercely, left the house.

“That’s the ugliest thing about the Russian army, said Freedman after a long pause.  “I cannot believe that an army with such things on its conscience can really win battles.”

The man shook his head, but the woman was looking out of the window.

The young girl who till now had not said a word, took the soldier’s hand and said in a shaky voice: “You have perhaps saved us all, sir!  How can we thank you?”

Freedman smiled and glanced at her mother.  Then he said to the girl: “I don’t think I need thanks.  In fact I am glad to have done this for you and – your mother!”

When he left a half hour later, the woman burst into an irrepressible flood of tears.

The colonel had received a warning from a Russian outpost some twenty versts away.  So till very late that night the soldiers were compelled to work away at the necessary temporary fortifications.  Often Freedman stopped in his work and stood motionless for many minutes gazing dreamily out to the far distance.  Where he stood the cold moonlight fell over them as though steeling them to the life of horror they were living.

The following morning Nikolai came up behind Freedman, laid a hand on his shoulder and attempted to swing him around.

“Is there anything you want, Nikolai? asked the Jew, turning around calmly.

“Yes; I want to brain you – you damned Jew!”

“Do it – if you can!” said Freedman, smiling.

The giant drew back his arm and swung it viciously at the head of Freedman.  The Jew, still smiling, caught his wrist in a flash and gripped it tightly.  The big peasant writhed with pain, but he clinched his teeth and stood his ground.

Freedman acted very swiftly.  He gave an additional tug at the giant’s wrist and dropped it at his side.

Nikolai stared hard at him for a few seconds and muttered: “You damned Jew!”

Both of the Jew’s hands reached out like steel bars.  He seized the giant by the shoulders, held him that way till every drop of blood had left Nikolai’s face, and then, with one great tug, hurled him bodily over the trench.

Just then the colonel came up.  He took in everything in a second, and said, frowning at Freedman: “Report immediately to my tent!”

But no sooner had Freedman entered the commander’s judiciary chamber than one of the advance guard flew into camp terribly excited: “The Germans are coming,” passed along the lines.  Everything else was put aside and the defences were completed.

TOWARD evening of that day the colonel received word from the Russian post that the Germans were nearing that section and that they would probably arrive from the north-west by midnight.  It was advisable to send out two detachments to meet them.  The colonel instantly sent for Nikolai and Freedman.

“The Germans are coming” he explained to them, “and they will be here by midnight.  This is very fortunate, because it makes it possible for us to offer them sufficient resistance to last us till the troops from Warsaw arrive.  There are no officers at my command, so I am going to put this matter in the hands of both of you.  Remember, it is all for the sake of Russia and your own wives and children.  You, Nikolai, will take two hundred men and lead them up to the wood near the village of K.  There you will hide your men behind the trees and the sides of the hill and attack them as they come.  You, Freedman, will take an equal number of men and pause with them about two versts from K.  When you hear that the battle is on, bring your detachment up from the near and outflank them.  This is bound to confuse them, and unless their numbers are overwhelmingly large it may seriously prevent them from marching on.  Do you understand me?”

Both men nodded.

“There is a great deal in this for both of you,” continued the colonel.  “It all depends upon the amount of devotion and ability you display in this task that I am assigning you.  Now, do your duty!”

The colonel shook hands with both of them, and then proceeded to aid them in the preparation.  (Isn’t it peculiar than in such important moments we do not think of distinctions?)

An hour later both detachments were well on their way toward K.  They marched silently through the big snow fields, under a swiftly darkening sky.  Night fell.  The march continued.  Freedman’s detachment reached the point designated by the commander and paused.  The men spread out their blankets are ate from their knapsacks a few of the things they had been permitted to take along with them for this short while.

A little after midnight the soldiers rose to their feet at the sound of firing that came to them over the fields.  The battle was on!  Freedman ordered the soldiers to form in line and march on.  A little distance up the road they met a number of soldiers retreating from the battle.  One of them explained that an overwhelming force of Germans had arrived and opened a terrific fire; there was absolutely no possibility of holding out against them, though Nikolai kept most of his men behind the trees and the hill.  Further up the road they met more refugees.  Freedman lifted his sword in the air and raised his voice high.  “Russians,” he cried, “we are going to outflank those Germans whether they number a thousand or even a million.  You will either fall in line or I will have you shot down as traitors and cowards!  Choose quickly!”

Reinforced by the refugees from Nikolai’s detachment, Freedman made a sharp turn and marched in a roundabout way so as to reach K. from the north-west.

Nikolai’s men were one by one falling under the steady fire of the Germans.  But from their position they did the enemy a great deal of damage.  The German detachment had three cannon which were not being used because a big firing machine can be of no avail against an army which is scattered behind trees and under rocks.  Nikolai was swearing under his breath as the minutes passed by and there was no sign of Freedman.  “The damned Jew!” he growled beneath his breath.  “The coward!”

THERE was a burst of drums and trumpets from the rear, and the reinforcements, headed by Freedman, appeared.  At first the Germans were nonplussed by this strategic move, but a minute later they charged the newcomers like tigers.  Freedman saw in a second what must be done; those cannon must be captured and turned against the Germans.  He instantly called thirty men to his side and, headed by himself, they charged the point where the guns stood.  Too late the Germans realised their intention.  A moment after the strong figure of Freedman mounted one of the cannon.  A hundred guns were pointed at him and he fell.  But his followers took possession of the three cannon and opened fire on the charging Germans.  Ten minutes later the latter were fleeing back, pursued by the forces of Nikolai.

The pursuit of the Russians was only a pose; they knew well enough that they were incapable of contending with the superior force with which they might now be met.  So after a slight run they returned.

At dawn Nikolai and his men returned to T.  The body of Freedman was borne by twenty of his followers and placed in a sheet in front of the Colonel’s tent.

Nikolai rendered the commander an accurate description of the battle, including the capture of the cannon by the Jew.

“Those Jews certainly know how to die,” remarked Sergei Seminovich.

The peasant bit his thick lips and turned away.

A number of Jewish soldiers petitioned the colonel to permit them to bear along with them the corpse of Freedman till they would come to a town where there was a Jewish burial place.  To this the commander consented silently.

Despairing of ever obtaining the necessary reinforcements, the colonel on the following day again broke up camp and continued the retreat toward Warsaw.  The body of Freedman was carried all day by his faithful followers.

When night fell, Nikolai approached the colonel and informed him that the soldiers were dissatisfied with the fact that the corpse of the Jew was being carried in their midst and they had fears…

The colonel measured the peasant from head to foot.  “Nikolai,” he said sternly, “I have tolerated your insolence a long time.  I shall put an end to it right now.”  He stepped out and called the guard.  “I want you to hold this man in confinement till you get further instructions from me!”

They bowed and led the dazed Nikolai out of the tent.

They were met by reinforcements the next day.  When the town of B. was reached the corpse was taken into the Jewish cemetery and buried with prayer on the part of the Jewish soldiers.  The colonel stood in the crowd near the grave, bareheaded.  “God knows, it’s the only honour I can give him now,” he muttered to himself.

That afternoon he wrote out his report for the general in Warsaw.  Among the names recommended for honourable mention was the queer name “Vriedmun.”  As the colonel glanced over it he smiled complacently.  What an artful people the Russians may be when they want to! [Jewish Comment]