(Author: Barbara Rigden, Vol. 71, No. 3, Chanukah 2016)
In 1897, the World Zionist Organisation was founded with the aim of re-establishing a Jewish homeland in Palestine, then still part of the Ottoman Empire. Using the Jewish population already existing in the territory as a foundation, Zionist pioneers established scattered and generally isolated agricultural communities. In 1917, about 85 000 Jews lived in Palestine, largely comprising families that had been there since ancient times.
During World War 1, a ‘Jewish Legion’ was formed. It was not officially called this, but the term was used by those who first conceived the idea of securing a Jewish military formation to serve with the British army in Palestine during the war. In Egypt, Vladimir (Ze’ev) Jabotinsky and Captain Joseph Trumpeldor recruited for war service over 600 Jews who had been expelled from Palestine by the Turks. The recruits were not used in the campaign to liberate Palestine from Turkey, however. Instead, they took part, as the ‘Zion Mule Corps’, in the 1915 Gallipoli campaign. The unit was disbanded on 26 May 1916.
It was not until much later, after a long political struggle (in which Jabotinsky was the moving spirit), that Jewish volunteers in England were formed into a fighting unit, called the 38th Battalion, Royal Fusiliers, and commanded by Colonel Patterson. Another battalion, commanded by Colonel Eleazar Margolin, was recruited in America in 1918. After training at Windsor, Nova Scotia, it was sent to England, then on to Egypt and from there to Palestine. This Battalion was given the name of the 39th Royal Fusiliers. A third Jewish Battalion, the 40th Royal Fusiliers, was recruited in Palestine itself after the British occupation, but the British authorities procrastinated so long about it that the fighting was over before it could reach the front. Jabotinsky records that it had been planned to call the unit ‘The Jewish Regiment’, with the insignia of the proposed uniform featuring a Menorah with the Hebrew word Kadimah and a blue-white mark on the collar. These efforts were regrettably aborted by the interference of ‘assimilationist plutocrats’ and it was not until 1919 (after the war) that the Jewish regiments were given a Jewish name and Menorah insignia.
Thus, according to Jabotinsky, the Legion consisted of three ‘Gedulim’ – battalions- of the Royal Fusiliers. The battalions were Jewish in fact, if not in name. There was no unified Jewish command or HQ, nor was there a common, recognised, official flag or banner. The only mention of a flag was when the 40th Battalion Royal Fusiliers, on the eve of finally departing for Egypt, assembled outside the synagogue in Tel Aviv on 30 June 1918. There, Dr Chaim Weizmann presented a flag made for it by the woman of Tel Aviv.
The total number of Jews in the three battalions of the ‘Jewish Legion’ was over 10 000. In 1918, the victorious Jewish legionnaires were among those who entered Jerusalem under the command of British Commander-in-Chief, Marshal Edmond Allenby, ending the centuries-old administration by Turkey. Finally, Palestine was freed from Turkish rule! The Jewish Legion was highly praised by Allenby for its heroic stand on the Palestinian front.
In 1917, in terms of the Balfour Declaration, Britain had taken the momentous step of declaring its official support for a Jewish homeland in Palestine. Soon after the war ended, it was granted a mandate (a temporary right of administration) to take charge of Palestine by the League of Nations. Britain hence became the custodian responsible for the government of Palestine in the period between the First and Second World Wars.
Under the British administration, Jewish immigration continued steadily so that by 1947, the Jewish population had grown to approximately 650 000, compared with an Arab population of over 1 000 000. This influx generated firstly distrust, and then fear on the part of the Palestinian Arabs, and their anxieties were exploited and fired up by their political and religious leaders, in particular Mohammed Amin al-Husseini, the Mufti of Jerusalem.
An estimated 1 300 000 – 1 500 000 Jews served in the Allied forces during World War II. Two days after war broke out on 1 September 1939, at a meeting held at the offices of the Jewish Agency, the General Council of Palestine Jews (Vaad Leumi) called for volunteers to register for service. This would be necessary in the first instance to (a) serve the needs of the Jewish community as regards security, economic life, and other public requirements and (b) be at the disposal of the British military authorities in Palestine for such services as might be required.
100 000 men and women eventually volunteered. However, it was felt in the Yishuv (community of the Jewish people in Palestine) that their offer was being deliberately ignored. Jewish volunteers wished to form a separate Jewish military unit, but experienced extreme frustration and disappointment as for four years their request was by-passed by various artificial restrictions. These delaying tactics were aimed at appeasing the Arab communities in Palestine, who were putting pressure on the UK government.
Yet in spite of all these set-backs and restrictions, volunteer units of Palestinian Jews were deployed and fought well in North Africa and Italy. By the time of the battle of Al Alamein there were over 20 000 Palestinian Jews, the bulk of whom were in purely Jewish units, serving in the Middle East. These brave ‘Soldiers of Judea’ saw service in France, England, Greece, Crete, Abyssinia, Libya, Cyprus, Iraq, and Palestine. They took part in the landings on Sicily and Italy and in the subsequent Italian campaign. From Habbaniyah in Iraq to the north of Italy, the trail is dotted with the graves, bearing the Magen David, of the fallen men from these Palestinian units.
The creation of the Palestine Regiment with its three Jewish battalions brought new hope to Palestine Jewry that its sacrifices and efforts would be acknowledged at last. Finally, the dream of the young soldiers of Judea to come face to face in combat with the murderers of their people seemed on the point of realisation. Once again, however, they were to be disappointed and their anticipation and enthusiasm crushed. For three years in the Egyptian desert, they did menial, if necessary work, day in and day out guarding prisoners of war and watching over aerodromes, ammunition dumps, filling factories, stores and docks, big ordnance production and storing garrisons. They experienced no action, no adventure, nothing to relieve the monotony. Their frustrations were further aggravated by a lack of reliable information and horrific unconfirmed rumours that were filtering in regarding the eradication of Europe Jewry. Many still had family and relatives in Europe.
Reverend Bernard Moishe Casper, the future Chief Rabbi of South Africa, was stationed in Egypt with the First (Jewish) Battalion, Palestine Regiment, at the time of the formation of the Jewish Brigade and was appointed as its senior chaplain. The remainder of this article draws substantially on his book With the Jewish Brigade (Edward Goldston, London, 1947), to which the bracketed page numbers that follow refer.
It was the morning of Rosh Hashanah, 20 September 1944. When Rav Casper came out of his tent, he found great excitement amongst the men and a sense that something unusual was happening. Going over to one of the groups, he learned the exciting news. One of the men had heard in a BBC radio announcement that the Palestine Regiment, with its three Jewish Battalions, was to be formed into a Jewish Brigade!
The BBC report was confirmed a week later, 28 September, by British Prime Minister Winston Churchill in the House of Commons. With reference to the report, he said:
The British Army in Italy includes also Palestinian units; and here I would mention the announcement, which hon. Members may have read, and which I think will be appreciated and approved, that the Government have decided to accede to the request of the Jewish Agency for Palestine that a Jewish Brigade Group should be formed to take part in active operations. I know there are vast numbers of Jews serving with our Forces and the American Forces throughout all the armies. But it seems to me indeed appropriate that a special Jewish unit, a special unit of that race which has suffered indescribable torments from the Nazis, should be represented as a distinct formation amongst the forces gathered for their [the Nazis’] final overthrow, and I have no doubt they will not only take part in the struggle, but also in the occupation which will follow.
This announcement not only thrilled these ‘Men of Judea’ of the ‘Palestine Regiment’ who after over four years of waiting, of frustration found it hard to believe that their dream of confronting the enemy face to face on equal terms as Jews would finally be realised. It sent a message of new hope and pride to Jewry throughout the world. Jews of England and America and other countries of freedom, soldiers fighting all over Europe, were inspired by the news. Very importantly, the news reached the agonised Jews of ‘Hitler’s Gehenna’ (Hitler’s Hell) in the ghettos of Warsaw and Kovno, and other parts of Nazi-occupied Europe, instilling in them new courage and hope. Likewise in Palestine, the news that their brothers, after nearly five years of perseverance and waiting, were finally going to be formed into a Jewish fighting force filled the Yishuv with pride.
Wrote Rav Casper, “All doubts and speculation … as to the validity of the announcement were expelled when the Commanding Officer of the Palestine Regiment confirmed the report and said that they were to prepare to move within a few days…all cynicism was blown away and spirits ran higher than ever before in the past! Excitement permeated the whole camp and escalated as neighbouring troops stationed nearby from Tel el Kebir came to exchange the good news and to offer their congratulations and good wishes. Late into the night they all sang songs of the Moledeth(Jewish homeland) and danced the Hora over and over to exhaustion in brotherhood and solidarity!” (pp 17-18).
The next day, Rav Casper was called to the General Head Quarters and appointed as Senior Chaplain for the first Infantry Jewish Brigade Group Formation. The following week was spent in Palestine consulting with the Chief Rabbi, Jewish Agency, and Vaad Lemaan Hachayil (the Jewish Soldiers’ Welfare Association). Rav Casper recorded how the subject of the Jewish Brigade dominated public interest and conversations at the many receptions that were given for him throughout the Yishuv. His most memorable experience was on the Shabbat morning service, held in the Yeshurun Synagogue in the new quarter of Jerusalem. He was called to the reading of the Torah, and the huge congregation rose and stood in silence as the Chazanrecited a special Misheberach (Blessing) for the Chayalenu – Our Soldiers, the men of the Jewish Fighting Force! Afterwards, he was presented with a Sefer Torah for the Brigade, “which was to accompany us on all our journeyings, as the Ark of The Lord went with the Israelitish armies in the days of the Judges” (p19)
In preparation for leaving for Italy at the beginning of October1944, the units of the Brigade began to assemble and a vast tented camp sprawled over the flat desert sands at Burg El Arab, on the road running between Alexandria and the historic battlefield of El Alamein. The encampment comprised three Jewish battalions, an artillery battery and an HQ with the Brigadier’s flag fluttering proudly at top-mast– a triangular flag with blue and white stripes and a golden Magen David in the centre. A blue and white shoulder flash with a gold Magen David was also officially authorized. On 31 October, the Jewish Agency announced that the flag and the insignia of the Jewish Brigade had been approved. At last the Jewish fighting forces had their own flag and insignias, signifying their own particular identity and official recognition which they had yearned for and were denied when they fought as the Jewish Legion in World War 1! There were also many units of Palestinian Jews fighting alongside the British armies who were later to join the Jewish Brigade in Italy.
One of the first exciting moments was the arrival of the Brigade’s new commander, Brigadier E.F. Benjamin, Royal Engineers. He was a Canadian-born Jew, brought up in a completely British environment and with a record of 25 years of distinguished soldiering. There was much speculation amongst the men, whose lingua franca was Hebrew and who were almost entirely Palestinian, whether they would be able to blend together. They came from 54 different countries, including refugees from Germany, Austria, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Rumania and elsewhere, early pioneers from Poland and Russia who had come to Palestine twenty or thirty years earlier, Sabras who had been there from ancient times, dark-skinned Yemenite Jews and black Falashas from Abyssinia. All were moulded as one into the new Palestinian spirit and tradition. Rev Casper comments that it “was a tribute both to the adaptability of these men and to the leadership of Brigadier Benjamin that he was soon assimilated into this amalgam and taught his men to know and respect his military tradition”. Included amongst the new commanding recruits were some British non-Jewish officers of different ranks.
The men’s enthusiasm and pride was evident at the first brigadiers parade, in which everyone was ‘Spit and Polished and Blancoed’ to perfection. Never had there been a prouder body of troops than these as they marched past the saluting base that memorable day! There was excitement and wild enthusiasm amongst the men who lined the desert roads running through the camp as each fresh convoy of vehicles, guns and armaments arrived. In constant expressions of spontaneous joy, they would break into singing Am Yisrael Chai – The People of Israel Lives! – and dance the hora ( p22).
Correspondents and photographers visiting the camp were amazed at the high morale and eagerness that was everywhere apparent! One commented, “What marvellous human material Europe had cast out of its midst! Men who had been doctors, lawyers, artists, engineers, teachers, men of learning and skill, and had been driven from their land of adoption by Jew-hatred, were now turning all their thoughts and energies to the task of destroying the spirit of Amalek, the spirit of Pharaoh, Haman and Hitler” (ibid.).
Chaplain B M Casper, Jewish Brigade
Rav Casper recalls the case of Ben Zion Yisraeli and Motke Chadash. One day he received an urgent call to see them, as had both began a hunger strike, having been told they were too old to be sent overseas with a fighting unit. In the army records they were put down as fifty, but in truth both were over sixty. Their indignation would have been amusing had it not been so sincere. Rav Casper was asked to appeal on their behalf, as they had called on their comrades in their kibbutzim to follow their lead and join up in the early days of recruiting, yet were now themselves to be left behind! On Rav Casper’s intercession, the commander acceded to the men’s wish. Both of them were later joined by their sons, and all did duty together throughout the entire front-line experience (pp22-3).
Before the troops left Egypt they were given an especially touching send-off by the Yishuv, with the Palestine Symphony Orchestra coming out to give the men the blessings of the Moledeth (the Jewish homeland) in music. A crowded, improvised sandy ‘amphitheatre’ was hurriedly constructed, with collapsed trestle tables forming the ‘stage’ and three-ton trucks forming the three sides of a rectangle. The men crowded almost on top of one another as they listened with rapt attention to Kol Nidrei, the Unfinished Symphony and many more classical and traditional musical pieces.
On Tuesday morning, 31 October 1944, the men finally embarked at Alexandria for Italy. The whole ship carrying the convoy was suddenly converted into a “Jewish domain”, like a floating Kibbutz: “In no time, all the notices have been transformed into Hebrew, the loud speakers are giving out orders and news-summaries in Hebrew, the ship’s orderly room has been taken over by our clerks and the Ship’s Daily Routine Orders are issued in Hebrew!” (p24). The crew of the Royal Navy politely looked on at this process of ‘conversion’ and apart from seeing to their own duties, left everything to the men of the Jewish forces.
On the night before the departure, the men gathered on the quarter-deck. The land could still be seen, although all was dark and the ship was completely blacked out for safety and security. Soon, “a song broke out on someone’s lips, and within a few minutes, a thousand voices had joined in the chorus….we were thinking of Lake Kinneret, of the waters of Tel Aviv beach; of the Emek lying beneath just such a starry sky” (ibid. 24-5). The singing grew in volume and as the men squeezed up into “a massed, rough but harmonious choir”. Finally, an order comes for bed: “Clear the decks!” As one man and without being told to do so, they stand to attention and sing Hatikvah. “We are on the way to the ghettos and camps of Europe with our message of hope” (p25). Farewell Burg El Arab! Afrique Adieu!
On landing on the shores of Italy, the convoy was transported to the place that had been assigned to the Brigade – a small village high up in the mountains some eighty miles inland from Rome, called Fiuggi. This was to be the men’s home for the next four months. The men had to adapt from the extremes of the heat of the Egyptian deserts to the contrasts of an Italian white icy cold winter. It was especially hard for the Sabras and Yemenite Jews, who were experiencing the cold snows of a European winter, high up in the mountains, for the first time. In no time, however, the men adapted and turned this remote village into an outpost of Judea. The Military Police section under Captain ‘Danny’ Lifschitz, took special pride in making and displaying signs of the blue and white triangular shield with the golden Magen David, in Hebrew and English, which were signposted throughout the whole village and surrounds within the vicinity.
The prime purpose of being stationed at Fiuggi was for military training. Until then, although the men had been in the infantry units for three or four years, they had for political reasons been denied full training with up-to-date fighting weapons. Their fighting potential had been wasted in Egypt, where they mainly be used for guarding duties and mundane unskilled labour. Now that they were to become part of “the immortal British 8th Army”, it seemed as if the authorities were determined to give them everything needed to fit them in as a front-line force. This needed training, and preparation to which the men rose to the occasion. They worked at their military exercises, training and drilling, with almost feverish intensity. Their one fear was that the final Allied victory might come too soon, before they were ready to strike their blow against the hated enemy (p27).
Amongst the training routines were route marches, shooting practice, learning the intricacies of the Bren carrier, mortar bombs and six-pounders and mastering the art of signalling and decoding messages. Visitors were amazed at the men’s energy and speed of their progress.“Pride in their engines of war” was their first consideration, and the Magen David flash on their mudguards ensured that every vehicle was kept clean. Soon every truck had been given a Hebrew name: ‘Tel Aviv’, ‘Sarah’, ‘Miryam’, and so on (ibid).
Military training was not the only factor on the lives of the men who, after all, were not only soldiers, but first and foremost Jews. Rav Casper relates: ‘Within a very short time after our arrival in Fiuggi … the village began to take on outwardly a distinctly Jewish character. The Jewish flag flew over our Brigade Head Quarters. Every unit, every officers’ and sergeants’ mess, the men’s dining rooms and billets, all were marked with our Hebrew signs and Magen David. Wherever one went, one heard Hebrew spoken, so that even the Italian peasants and their ‘Bambini’ came in a short time to greet us with ‘Shalom’. And of course, the Palestinians do nothing without singing, and the sound of Hebrew songs was ever present. One almost had the feeling of being in a kibbutz or Jewish village in Eretz” ( p28).
The men responded with intense emotion to any expression of Tarbuth (Hebrew culture). This was probably the reaction after the long struggle they had had for the recognition of their self-expression in Hebrew. Here at last every manifestation of their Jewish culture could be freely expressed and was being recognised both publicly and officially. The publication of Orders in Hebrew, the use of that language, not only as the vernacular, but for word of command in training and later on the battlefield, the Jewish flag, the Magen David everywhere, the publication of their own Hebrew magazines and newspaper, the automatic observance of the Shabbat and Jewish Holy Days, all these formed the atmosphere in which the Brigade lived, and evoked the deep, though never spoken, pride and gratitude of every man (p29).
Shabbat in the Brigade was very important, and deserves a special reference. Rav Casper relates” (p30): “When I discussed with the Brigadier, soon after his arrival, my side of the work, it was agreed that as we were a Jewish formation, the day ‘off’ in so far as it would be possible to have a day off, would always be Saturday. And as soon as we settled down in Fiuggi, orders were given that official training and all work would cease at mid-day on Friday until Sunday morning. Guard duty would be done on a rotational roster as well as any other very essential duties. Friday afternoon was devoted to cleaning-up and preparing to receive the ‘Shabbat Bride’. Those walking through the Main Street at this time would hear, as they passed the shower-baths, “a regular choral recital of Shabbat songs, Zemiroth (liturgical songs) and even one or two more liturgically minded individuals trying their hands, or rather their voices, at a Hashkivenu (a prayer of the evening service “Cause us to lie down, Oh Lord Our God, in peace…”) or Lecha Dodi. A beautiful temporary synagogue had been constructed to resemble an authentic Beth Hamikdash, with moveable units forming the base and decorated with beautiful embroidered cloths, candle sticks, wall hangings and the flag of Eretz as well as the Brigade flag.
Interior of the synagogue, Fiuggi
As the day drew to a close, a stillness fell upon Fiuggi, and only a few special orderlies – clerks, operators and sentries – could be seen on duty. The synagogue service over, it was the Rav’s privilege to repair to one of the men’s messes to recite Kiddush and open the Mesibah (Sabbath meal). What a rich site this always was! A few hundred men clean and neat looking seated at the long tables covered with white table cloths (if sheets weren’t available, there was always white paper) and bedecked with choicest fruit and nuts that could be sourced from local produce and village markets. On each table burned two candles, with helmets doing service as candlesticks. Invariably the walls were specially decorated too, with a map of Palestine, a photograph of Herzl or Weizmann, one or two Biblical verses and Tehillim (Psalms) printed in huge letters by the unit artist. A chapter from the Bible – frequently the week’s Haftorah – would be read, a lecture, a satire, a revue of the week’s Jewish news, songs, and excellent refreshments made up a rich programme ( p p30 -1).
The men of the Brigade – even the most assimilated – always kept the Shabbat, every Friday night and Saturday. They looked forward to it and it was an integral part of their lives. During the week, units vied with each other in producing the best programme. Each unit had its own Ta rb u th committee which worked continuously, after the day’s normal work, to plan the next Friday evening down to the last detail. The men were bonded as brothers, connected to their ancient roots by their traditions and identifying with one another not only as comrades but like family, one people, one nation. They kept the Shabbat. But more important was that the Shabbat kept them!
The Brigade’s four-month stay at Fiuggi included two very picturesque festivals – Chanukah and Purim. The Rav recalls: “Chanukah in particular will certainly be long remembered by the men and the local Italian population for many miles around. For, in addition to all the many candles that were lit during the Festival week in every mess, recreation-room and club room in the camp area, our pioneers fashioned a huge menorah out of stout tree-branches and fixed it up on the top of the highest building in the village, so that it’s lights, which were kindled by electricity every night, were visible for certainly at least twenty miles on the way to Rome” (pp32-3).
Chanukah, meaning ‘Dedication’, is the Festival of Lights. Symbolically, we are taught that we should be the “light unto the nations”, spreading goodness and kindness and working for the upliftment of our fellow man in the service of Hashem. Great rivalry took place between the units for producing the most original form of Menorah – indeed, some of the creations might have been exhibition show pieces! One that Rav Casper particularly remembered was made out of four rifles crossing at the centre, with bayonets fixed onto the barrels so that the big candles could be stuck on to them. Thus to the men it represented the force of the guns ascending and merging to the light of peace and freedom.
The Rav reminisces: “When we opened our Brigade Club and Canteen on the first night of Chanukah, 5705/1944 and the Brigadier concluded his speech with a couple of sentences in ‘Ivrit’, a thrill as of an electric current seemed to run through the mass of men who crowded the hall. The cheering was terrific, and for a moment it seemed as if the Brigadier was in real danger of being lifted bodily and flung into the air for very joy and excitement” (pp28-9).
Purim unfortunately fell on the day the Brigade was preparing to leave Fiuggi for the front. Preparations were being made the whole of the previous day, packing kit, loading the trucks, fuelling their vehicles and making sure that everything was ready for the move. Although the men were thoroughly exhausted, Rav Casper felt that he couldn’t allow the occasion to pass without a reminder of Purim. Word was sent around that at 7.00 o’clock that evening, Purim Eve, there would be a service in the already dismantled synagogue, where the Megillah would be read. Hundreds of men squeezed into that room to hear again the Biblical account of how Haman of old was defeated in his design to destroy the Jewish people. Had they come to take courage for the fight they were soon to embark on against the Haman of today?
The Brigade’s Hebrew name was Chativah Yehudith Lochemeth – ‘Jewish Fighting Force’ – but it soon became known by its affectionate abbreviation condensing the three words into one: Chayil (Valour). A few weeks before the end of the training, a magazine called Al Hasaf (‘On the Threshold’) appeared, produced by the men of the First Battalion. In his foreword for the first edition, Rav Casper wrote: “The thoughts which find expression in this magazine are the thoughts of the soldiers of the Jewish nation standing upon the threshold, on the eve of joining the battle, on the eve of the final overthrow of the Nazi tyranny, on the eve of our meeting with the remnant of Israel in Europe …. Many of you have already been pioneers in the great and sacred work of reviving our land; now a new pioneering task faces you—- to bring hope, life and new idealism in the rescue and revival to the dry scattered bones of Israel. . . . . .” (p35).
On route to the front, the Battalion reached Rome. There, they found that the great tradition they intended to pursue had already been built up by other Palestinian units who had preceded them, particular those who had been in the Italian campaign since the landings at Anzio and Salerno. These were chiefly the R.A.S.C. (Transport) and R.E. Companies. The oldest of them, 178 Pal. Coy., R.A.S.C. (commanded by Major Wellesley Aaron, later awarded the MBE) became one of the units of the Brigade as soon as they began training at Fiuggi. This was a company of real veterans, who had been right through the North African campaign from El Alamein to Tunis, and then on to Malta and Italy. They had won praise from Field-Marshal Montgomery, and also had a glorious record of work on behalf of the Jewish communities wherever they had come into contact with them. Rav Casper writes:
These Palestinian troops had a fantastic sense of responsibility. It was amazing what a few companies, each with only about 300 men, had built up. But the strain was extremely heavy upon them, and it was a heaven-sent relief when the entire Jewish Brigade was stationed in this vital area. Some 9000 Jews were still left in Rome! Most of them were without means and desperately in need of even the most elementary necessities of life. Although the American Joint Distribution Committee was set up in Rome, but with all its enormous funds it was hampered by lack of staff, by too rigid an adherence to rules and regulations, by an “assimilationist directorate”; in short by a hopeless lack of personal, lack of an intimate contact with and understanding of the people who needed the help most, and of the urgency of their situation. On the other hand, the Brigade and the other Palestinian units had transport in abundance and, collectively, a few thousand men, every one of whom was burning to do something for his brother-Jews. We re-opened the former Community Jewish Schools and staffed them with teachers in uniform. The hundreds of children who flocked to us there received not only some schooling, but a knowledge of Hebrew and an understanding that the Mother-Home was calling to them (orphans they were in so many cases) from Palestine. And perhaps most important of all, they received some good hot meals….provided by our units” (p36).
The men of the Jewish Brigade and the Palestinian units kept four schools and three Hachsharah centres going in Rome and Bari. To do these acts of kindness, “incredible sums of money” were collected from the men of all ranks from the ordinary private to the most high ranking officers (“Money had no value to them as compared with a little human comfort that they could bestow”).
With fund raising for the cause of helping those in need in mind, an informal evening concert was arranged in one of the artillery batteries. Quite unexpectedly in the middle of the proceedings the cook produced “a most terrific, gorgeous cake” – Uga Lipletim(“A Cake for Refugees”). The Sergeant-Major (in peacetime, a professor at the Hebrew University, Jerusalem,) took charge at this point, and as a result of the ensuing ‘American Auction’, the sale of the cake finally realised £150.00. As the O.C. (officer commanding) commented afterwards to Rav Casper, “You bet I ate my five guinea slice of cake b—- slowly!”
Finally, Rav Casper describes the day when the Brigade departed Rome for the front ( p38):
And now, try to picture the goodbyes when we left for the Front. As our enormous convoy passed through Rome – the Jewish Brigade on the way to face the enemy – thousands of Jews lined the route for hours, cheering and waving us on with their blessings. “Shalom , Lehitraot, Be Artzenu!” [“Farewell! Here’s to meeting again in Our Land”] we shouted back, those of us who were not quite overcome by the lump in the throat”.
Barbara Rigden, by profession an Estate Agent, has researched, written and spoken on a wide range of historical subjects, Jewish and general. Her academic studies have been in the Arts field, and in this regard she has for many years been an Art promoter.
