A Jewish Chaplain in France

by Lee J. Levinger

The purpose of the Embarkation Center was to provide a stopping place on the way to the busy ports of Brest and St. Nazaire, where the men might be deloused, have fresh clothing and equipment issued to them, undergo thorough inspections of every kind, and in all ways be divested of the effects of war and prepared to return to America. This task usually took a month or more, but sometimes a division had been partially equipped in its former area and if the ships happened to be ready it might stay in our area less than a week. On the other hand, it might not pass the various inspections at once, or at the time the transportation home might be lacking, and hence its departure would be delayed time and again. This uncertainty of tenure made all work very difficult, especially work such as the chaplains' which depended entirely on personal contact.

The problem of these divisions, as of the 27th, was chiefly to preserve the splendid morale of the front while the men were in the dreary tedium of waiting. This was done by cutting down the drill to an hour a day, which made enough work in addition to the delousing, inspecting and other necessary activities. The rest of the time was devoted to athletics, an educational program, and a great amount of entertainment, all three under the Welfare Officer appointed by the commanding general of the Embarkation Area, while all the welfare agencies contributed to these various ends under his general supervision. My work, of course, was directly under the Senior Chaplain, according to army regulation. And as the various units moved toward their goal more rapidly and more steadily, the need for special efforts to keep up morale grew less. Men keep up their own morale when they really know they are going home; the difficulties had been largely caused by the complete uncertainty and endless delays.

Such success as I had was due very largely to the excellent coöperation of the Jewish Welfare Board. Sergeant Charles Rivitz, who had charge of the work in the area, was deeply interested in the welfare of the boys and shared the resources of the organization freely with me in my work. I had always found this same attitude; the J. W. B. furnished me a car, an allowance for welfare work, an office in its building, and offered its rooms for services in the various camps. Where it had no huts, I was accorded the same privilege by the Y. M. C. A. Whenever its aid fell short, it was because it had no more to give. By this time Le Mans had a large and active group of J. W. B. workers, both men and girls, with their center in the city and huts in many surrounding points. I found the workers' mess the most friendly and pleasant in the city, quite as congenial as the one at the Junior Officers' Club, which I often frequented.

Even in the stress and turmoil of the Le Mans area ("the madhouse," as the boys called it) striking or humorous personalities appeared from time to time. There was Abie, the wandering musician, a little Jew who had a gift for rag-time but no great intelligence, military or otherwise. Abie had gone to France with a replacement unit, was located near Le Mans and spent his spare time playing for the Y. M. C. A. and the officers' dances. When his unit moved toward the front to be incorporated in some fighting division, he stayed behind, not as a deserter, but to play the piano for the "outfits" that followed. He managed even to live at the local hotel by the tips they gave him. After that time he reported, giving his full story in detail, to every commanding officer who entered the village, always to be given enough to eat, but never accepted into any unit as he had no transfer from his original one. At last his story got abroad, he was brought in by the Criminal Investigation Department and investigated, only to prove the truth of his every word. So Abie, happy once more, was stationed in the Classification Camp and detailed to the Jewish Welfare Board as a pianist, improvising his rag-time adaptations of serious music and getting many privileges and a steady income for doing the work he enjoyed best.

A different sort of man was the soldier in a famous fighting division, who sought a private interview with me. It seems that in the advance on the St. Mihiel sector he had rescued a Torah, a scroll of the Law, from a burning synagogue. Throwing away the contents of his pack, he had wrapped the scroll up in the pack carrier instead, and carried it "over the top" three times since. Now he wanted permission to take it home to give to an orphan asylum in which his father was active. A soldier was not ordinarily allowed to take anything with him besides the regulation equipment and such small souvenirs as might occupy little room, but in this case a kindly colonel became interested and the Torah went to America with the company records.

The great event of my service in Le Mans was our Passover celebration on April 14th, 15th and 16th, 1919. The general order for Passover furloughs read:

"Where it will not interfere with the public service, members of the Jewish faith serving with the American Expeditionary Forces will be excused from all duty from noon, April 14th, to midnight, April 16th, 1919, and, where deemed practicable, granted passes to enable them to observe the Passover in their customary manner."

Among the central points designated for Passover leaves was Le Mans, and the Jewish Welfare Board and I labored to arrange a full celebration for the thousand Jewish soldiers who came in from four different divisions. Quarters were provided in the Classification Camp for all the men who did not have the money or the previous arrangements for hotel rooms, as well as full accommodations for the Passover feast, the Seder. The Jewish Welfare Board obtained full supplies of Matzoth, unleavened bread, as well as Haggadoth, or special prayer books for the Seder.

The spirit was as strong a contrast as possible to that of my other great service at the fall holydays. Among our congregation were two men from the isolated post of military police at St. Calais, fifty miles to the east, and five from among the students at the University of Rennes, a hundred miles west. We had a number of officers among us, while five French families, several Jews in the horizon blue of the French army, and two in the Russian uniform—labor battalions, since Russia had withdrawn from the war—worshiped beside us. And when the crowd began to assemble, the first men I saw were a group of engineers whom I had not seen since Atonement Day, seven months before. They were on the way home now, their presence emphasizing more strongly than anything else the change that had come to us and the world in the intervening time. Again there were the meetings of friends and brothers, but without the pang of parting afterward. One of the most touching features of the Seder was the large number of requests that I should inquire whether Sergeant Levi or Private Isaacs was present. Then how the whole gathering would be electrified when a voice cried out, "Here," and cousins or comrades who had not known even of each other's safety were able to exchange festal greetings and rejoice together.

For the two and a half days' leave the Jewish Welfare Board and I tried to keep the men busy, with something for every taste. The full program included a Seder, four services, a literary program, a vaudeville show, a boxing exhibition, two dances and a movie. All were well patronized, for the soldier had a cultivated taste in diversion, especially after the armistice. But certainly the most popular of all was the Seder. The soup with matzah balls, the fish, in fact the entire menu made them think of home. We held the dinner in an army mess hall, standing at the breast-high tables. The altar with two candles and the symbols of the feast was at the center of the low-roofed unwalled structure. Toward evening the rain, so typical of winter in western France, ceased; the sun came out, and its last level rays shone directly upon Rabbi Kaufman and his little altar. It was a scene never to be forgotten, a feast of deepest joy mingled with solemnity. Afterward we adjourned to the Theatre Municipale for a full religious service with a sermon. Two of the shows of the festival leave were too big for the hall of the Jewish Welfare Board, so we were offered the Y. D. Hut, the great auditorium of the Y. M. C. A., which had been named after the famous 26th Division. One of these entertainments was the last performance in France of the "Liberty Players" of the 77th Division, who were about to leave for the States that very week.