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The Evil Spirit, ‘HiSta-Khrumika’ Dominates the World

It is the year 1912, two years before the outbreak of the First World War, and I find myself, on a ordinary hot summer Sabbath, after noon, at the table of my sanctified Rebbe – humming along the sorrowful melody of ‘Rafschein-Sanzer’ the liturgical tune of the ‘Eitkanu-Seudasa’ for the Shaleshudes [The Third Meal].

The heat was terrifying in the large house where the Rebbe presided over his Tisch^[1], and the dense air was literally palpable to the fingers, mixed with the odor of sweat, onions and herring, which intoxicated the senses. Meanwhile, the familiar Shaleshudes darkness oppresses the soul.

A fiery flame circles above the heads of the Hasidim, and they think – that maybe they are really seeing angel fluttering and hovering over them, with their pure white wings, over and about the Rebbe's face, pale and white as chalk lime.

Suddenly, the Rebbe throws back his great round and noble head, as handsome as a round egg, dreams off – and it becomes as still as a grave in the house.

All that is heard is the buzzing of a fly which dances about on the window pane, which is located not far from the Rebbe's seat.

In the meantime, seconds and minutes go by, and the gathering of Hasidim is anxious to the point of bursting. Just as a clap of thunder comes unexpectedly, so did a wild cry come from the Rebbe's mouth, ‘Jews, Repent!’ – Jews, you sons of compassion, if you were to know what a sorrowful time is drawing near, especially for the Jewish people, you would bury your heads in the earth, in order not to see and to feel the coming reign in the world of the Evil Spirit, ‘HiSta-Khrumika.’

For nearly a half century, his Hasidim broke their picks trying to understand these esoteric words of prophecy from their Rebbe.

These plain words from their Holy Rebbe began to reveal themselves immediately with the onset of the First World War in their bare full effect, with the pogroms of Petlura, and other enemies of the Jews of Russia, Ukraine, Poland and other lands.

Only after such beings as: Hitler, Stalin, Khrushchev, Mao Tse-Tung and Castro dominated nearly the entire world, and after these previously mentioned beasts killed off tens of millions of innocent people, among them

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six million Jews, did the Hasidim understand the key to the prophecy of their Rebbe: “The time of the Devil's ‘HiSta-Khrumika,’ draws nigh.”

The esoteric expression of their Rebbe, HiSta-Khrumika,' was an acronym for the five world leaders who, with their nations bear the responsibility for the majority of the millions of men women and children who were murdered, and among these guilty, through the greatest recognized enemy and murderer of the Jewish people in our long history, Hitler ימ”ש.

The writer of these lines will attempt to portray images from his young years, when he was rooted in the Galicia of [The Emperor] Franz Joseph.

These will be portraits of Jewish generations in Galicia “who are now cut down at the hand of the so-called ‘Nation of Culture,’ in front of the eyes of other ‘Nations of Culture,’ who are partners in this crime.”

I also wish to attempt to preserve these personalities and all their experiences, in their struggle for existence, in their way of life, in their good deeds of scholarship, loyalty, and their constant yearning for a good life, and a striving for a higher spiritual level.

In my telling of this tale, the life of a young man from a family of balebatim will play itself out, from the time of the First World War (1914-1918), the Second World War (1939-1945) and to the last, an active participation in the Arab-Israeli War (1948-1949) in the Land of Israel.

I will also communicate something of the intellectual and emotional atmosphere of this past era, especially that of the former Austrian Galicia.

I want to make the effort, on behalf of my readers, to portray for them, and display to them, a rich gallery of personalities, of the communal. psychological and emotional forces that altered the face of the world, and thereby positioned it for the extermination of a large part of humanity.

Every type of personality presents a different aspect of the mosaic of the altered society to me.

An uproar , a groan, a sigh rises from the town of Cieszanow, on the border between Czarist Russia and Austrian Galicia, where Jewish men and women cannot find a place for themselves.

Ye Gods! What does one do? To where can one flee?

Precisely at Passover, the Magistrate of the town ordered the Rabbi along with the head of the community, R' Pinchas Rosenblatt summoned to him, and advised them that on the following day, that is to say, precisely on the first day of Hol HaMoed, they have to provide ten young Jewish men for the draft, which is to take place in the town.

In accordance with the size of the Jewish population in the town, year in and year out, the requirement was, that ten Jewish soldiers were to be provided to the Czarist army.

No amount of weeping and pleading is of any help, ten Jewish boys have to be provided by the community.

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Jews have a folk-saying: “With each misfortune, comes a bit of good luck.”

The community had the right to send anyone that it wanted to as a soldier, because the Czarist authority only demanded a contingent from the locale, and the contingent for the town of Tomaszow was ten Jewish soldiers, and if they were weak or sick, this was no liability to ‘Ivan,^[2]’ the foremost thing being that it was required to present ten ‘Yevreis’ on the spot.

The community khappers^[3] knew exactly from which house to grab a candidate, once given the nod from the head of the community.

The decree had no impact on the sons of the ‘beautiful Jews,’ they sleep in their beds at night, they study Torah in the Bet HaMedrash during the day, without fear, as if the bitter decree does not refer to them, and that the specific line written does not apply to them.

This decree of the regime applies only to those Jews of Tomaszow that live in the crooked alleys behind the bathhouse.

By happenstance, the sons of Abraham Wassertreger (The Water Carrier), Beryl Schneider (The Tailor) and Mekhl David Schuster (The Shoemaker) found out in a timely fashion that the community khappers were going to make a run through their streets, to tear those sons from their mothers' arms that had been designated as the sacrifice for all those ‘beautiful’ little boys to go serve the Czar as soldiers.

The town of Tomaszow lies in a valley, and just as God had sent a tribulation to the Jews, and it becomes necessary to flee from that tribulation, God also provides a cover, a teeming rain mixed with thunder and lightning, precisely in the middle of the night, when frightened young boys are fleeing the town.

An antediluvian flood rain storms over the town.

The streets of the place are flooded with water and mud, it is cold and wet, and ever body member trembles from the cold.

Eyes become blinded by the naked bolts of lightning, and after each such lightning bolt, eyes become doubly darkened.

What is the Jewish expression: “At a time of trouble, when one seemingly has no options, the fool becomes a wise man, and the weak becomes strong.”

Ignoring the rain and the storm, they ran as if from a fire.

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A fourth boy was swept up with the three youngsters, also he Shlomo, from a poor home in Tomaszow, found out about the great secret, that there will be seizing of boys after the first days of Passover.

Shlomo, a healthy young lad, a marketplace merchant, dealt in flax, swine hair, chickens, geese and grain, but few blessings remained for him from all of these endeavors.

The poverty in Shlomo's home was so great, that he was compelled to become a merchant when he was ten years old, in order to help his mother to make a living, his father having died when Shlomo was a year old. At the age of ten, Shlomo was compelled to leave the Heder.

Shlomo never went to synagogue, first – as previously mentioned, he needed to assume the burdens of making a living while still young, but more to the point, was fear of the hooligan gentiles.

Shlomo was a decent, law abiding and quiet person.

Just as he was physically strong, massive and primitive, his soul, by contrast, was pure, gentle and good.

Shlomo demonstrated his complete gentle beauty immediately at the time of fleeing from the town, in the rain, mud and cold.

It happened, as often does happen in such a tragic moment, that one of those who fled, became sick from great exertion and exposure to the cold and wetness, and contracted a severe fever, and could not move from his place.

The Polish road that stretched from Tomaszow to the Austro-Galician town of Belzec was surrounded by thick forests of pine trees.

Many sawmills, called ‘tartaki,’ were to be found in these forests, which on the Polish-Russian side belonged to the Graf Czartoryski, and the Austro-Galician Baron Watmann on the Austrian side of the border.

These sawmills were largely in Jewish hands.

The balebatim, employees, and overseers of the lumber industry in this locale, were all our brethren, Jews, in contrast to the forest watchmen, hewers of wood, wagoners and cutters, who were poor peasants from the area, since the sons and daughters of the village families were distanced from their poor father's heritage by their older brothers.

And these self-same sawmills are worked intensively, the chute in the sawmill does not rest either by day or night.

In a pile of cut timber, almost up to half a body length, stands the worker, Kaczynski, who with his strong hands keeps on pushing the six-meter blocks of wood into the chute, and on the second side, in the same position, stands the worker Pietruczka, pulling the cut boards out with his strong hands from the chute.

The owner of this sawmill, R' Gedalia Schreiber, a Jew with a bit of a belly, wanting to make an impression on his appointees and workers, wraps his corpulent body in a heavy sheepskin, despite the fact, that come Passover, the frosts are already in the past.

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He appears in front of his forest workers in this sort of a pose, and with a good word, a sharp bit of wit in Polish, or a wink in his eye to a young female worker, he endears himself to this gentile coterie.

In the ‘night shift’ of the first days of Passover, R' Gedalia was forcibly called to the sawmill, since a well-known lumber merchant had arrived from Byten, who wants to close his big transactions exclusively with the owner of the mill, and not his director, R' Moshe Honigsberg who had that authority in the name of R' Gedalia, to conclude all possible business.

Out of respect for this important guest from Byten, Herr Neumann, R' Gedalia made the effort, ignoring the fact that a frightful weather reigned in the streets, a rain mixed with snow – a sign that in Heaven, it had not yet been decided whether this night would belong to the winter just passed, or to the coming summer.

In the middle of this, R' Gedalia ordered his wagon driver, Fishl, to get the wagon ready, and be prepared to be on the way in a half an hour.

The road, which had been paved by Austro-Galician peasants, meanders for twenty kilometers from R' Gedalia's town of Cieszanow to the forest.

The conveyance on which R' Gedalia rides, driven by his wagon driver, Fishl, glided along this stone-paved road.

Riding along the way, an intensive discussion developed between R' Gedalia and Fishl the wagon driver, regarding a variety of social questions.

Time passed, the clock showed eleven o'clock – it is already twelve, and they ride, and ride, absorbed in their conversation, they failed to notice that the horses had strayed off the road, and they found themselves in the middle of the forest.

Suddenly – they hear a man calling from the thick forest – ‘Stehen-bleiben!’

They were frightened to the depth of their souls, not knowing who was calling to them, and what is wanted of them.

They thought, at midnight in the forest, this can be no other , and they were immediately certain, that this was not just anybody, but rather the ‘Wayfarer’ and well-known robber, Mayevsky, who was known by all, and a terror to all the residents of the area.

As usual, when Jews find themselves in danger, they take a long time to get down from their wagon, first – one looks for one's tzitzit, to assure that –God forbid – a thread is not missing – ‘Shema Yisrael’ is recited seven times, then one spits, and says: ‘It hasn't occurred, hasn't happened – The Angel Who Redeems Me from All Evil^[4].’

A person, stepping quickly, draws near from the distance, and from the silhouette of the person they noted that it was a man, tall, broad, strong, with firm feet and hands.

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There remained no doubt with them that this was none other than the robber Mayevsky.

In this critical and dangerous moment, R' Gedalia went through an accounting of all his deeds to the present, coming to the conclusion that since the end has arrived, a Jew must naturally repent for all the transgressions he had committed during his life, and as it seems, R' Gedalia had a heavy load of past sins on him, because according to his vigorous striking of the heart while saying ‘Al Khet,’ during the recitation of the confession, and thereby also pouring out a river of tears, it would appear – that this burden was very significant.

When two Jews find themselves in danger, assaulted by a murderer, a dog, or a gentile hooligan, the more refined Jew hides himself behind the coarser Jew, such that the coarser Jew stands exposed first with his face towards the oncoming danger.

Saying ‘Al Khet,’ R' Gedalia slowly pushed himself behind the back of his wagon driver Fishl, waiting for the murderer Mayevsky.

Fishl had driven R' Gedalia in his wagon for his entire life, and therefore had great respect for him.

Fishl also was seized with a fright. But, alas, he had no one behind whom he could shove himself, their ears could hear the beating of their hearts.

In that moment – they hear a call from the man, who in the meantime was now standing by their coach – ‘Jews!’

R' Gedalia and his wagon driver, opening their eyes, which they had shut tightly, in order that they not see – how the murderer Mayevsky was going to stab them in the heart with his long knife, in the first instant did not know what was going on.

They were almost certain that it was all over for them… that they were in the World to Come, as a sign – an angel was asking them, in Yiddish no less, ‘Are you Jewish?’

R' Gedalia immediately touched himself on the forehead and noted that a cold sweat was pouring down his brow, and it is as if he had just emerged from the mikva.

Not being entirely certain, and despite this, he stretches out his right hand and says ‘Sholom Aleichem a Yid.’ Shaking, and with teeth chattering out of great fear.

He receives a warm reply: ‘Aleichem Sholom.’

Shlomo wants to say something, but R' Gedalia, immediately assuming his arrogant pose, knowing almost with certainty that this is not the robber Mayevsky, he asks a question directed at no one in particular, well my dear sir – tell me something huh? Are you not one of the no-goods? Well, yes? You should know that in my tzitzit, not one thread is missing, and each and every erev Shabbat, my mezuzot are inspected by R' Aharon the Scribe, and, if all of these virtues are for you, ‘Devil’ insufficient, I will shout out in my loudest voice, ‘Shema Yisrael,’ and you will be transformed instantly into ash and dust.

Shlomo immediately grasped the correct condition of the emotional wreckage of the two frightened Jews.

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Shlomo attempted to calm them down, and himself began to recite the Shema, and in this manner, reading through the entire portion, he drew closer to them, and in this manner, asking R' Gedalia with a warm and friendly voice – well, my fellow Jew, are you calmed down yet?

What I mean, says Shlomo, is that you no longer need to have misgivings about my ‘humanity’ because a ‘Devil’ doesn't read the Shema.

Did you understand?

Their normal physical and emotional state righted itself immediately after Shlomo explained himself. R' Gedalia re-boarded the wagon, straightened out his feet, again assumed his hauteur, and with arrogance, asked of Shlomo – Nu? What does a Jew require?

I must tell you, my dear Jews, Shlomo responds – that God does not sleep, he sent you at the correct moment, like an angel to help us.

I find myself here in the forest, with a friend of mine, who became ill along the way, fleeing from the khappers in our town.

Shlomo relates further, two of our comrades have abandoned us at the minute that the sick one could not continue moving by himself, and I carried the sick one on my back until I crossed the border.

Coming to the forest in the middle of the night, not knowing where we were, exhausted, hungry and frozen, I laid my sick comrade down under a tree.

Now, I have come to you to ask for help, you must ride over with the wagon about two kilometers from here, and take us to a place where your people live.

Asking no one, Shlomo jumped into the carriage, he tugged on the reins, shouted “Via!” in the direction where his friend Abram lay.

True – R' Gedalia did not oppose this, in his heart he took pleasure in the fact that God had specifically sent him to perform this great and valuable mitzvah, to rescue a sick Jew from two evils with one blow, from illness, and from the hands of gentiles.

However, really deep in his heart he was not completely convinced that Shlomo was really human, and Jewish to boot, who knows, he thought to himself, what sort of joke the ‘No-Goods’ and the ‘Devils’ are capable of perpetrating?

Realistically, it is the middle of the night.

Apart from this, he thought, and this irreligious thought also occurred to him, that the ‘No-Goods’ in these times are of a sort, that they do not fear tzitzit that are ritually correct, mezuzot that are kosher, and not even the Shema.

In the meantime, Shlomo asked no questions, and only drove the horses, the horses running over the paths, along the ways and around the bends, in order that he arrive more swiftly to rescue his friend, he needed to

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act in this daring manner, even though it was against his normal behavior, and contrary to his effacing character.

Arriving at the tree, Shlomo ran to Abram with quick strides, and lifted the ill man in his strong hands, and like a heap of straw, he tossed him into the wagon.

R' Gedalia took off his heavy sheepskin coat, covered the sick man, and before they even moved off from the spot, R' Gedalia took out a bottle of Slivovitz from his purse, and poured a bit of these bitter drops into Abram's throat, ordering his wagon driver Fishl to find the fastest way possible out of the forest, in order to be able to meet with Herr Neuman at the earliest possible time, who expected to catch the Lemberg-Vienna-Berlin express train at seven o'clock in the morning after leaving the sawmill.

He clock showed half after two past midnight.

When Fishl gave the horses a whip in their rear legs, the wheels of the wagon started forward with a splash of mud and water, with three at half right, and with a violent pull, exited from the forest, drawing close to the road that would lead to the sawmill in Belzec.

In the meantime, the ill Abram warmed himself up considerably, lying covered up with the heavy sheepskin, but it appears that what really warmed him up was the Slivovitz that R' Gedalia Schreiber poured into him at the time that Shlomo laid him in the wagon.

Gradually, Abram came to, and until R' Gedalia and his wagon driver got themselves oriented out of the confusion of the events, the wagon, and its entire complement arrived at the village.

At the gate of the sawmill, which was illuminated by a weak electric light, which was powered by a small generator owned by the sawmill itself, stood a watchman wrapped in a heavy overcoat.

As soon as he took note of his Jewish boss, he opened the gate with an expansive, ‘Dzien Dobry Panu!’ And they vanished into the courtyard of the sawmill which was full of mounds of split blocks and boards.

Abram lay in R' Gedalia's sawmill for a week's time, his comrade Shlomo attended him, and cured him, the village feldscher ordered that Abram be treated by cutting a blood vessel behind the ear, and putting eyelets, cups^[5] in mustard [plaster] and other such remedies.

Shlomo carried out everything in accordance with the feldscher's orders, and after eight days, Abram improved to the point that they decided to leave the sawmill, and to travel further in the Austro-Galician province, until such time that God will provide them with some means of earning a living, or an appropriate

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wedding match.

Here, on Galician soil, they a little more free, that means that they were protected and secure from the Czar's forces, and they had no great fear of the Austrian gendarmerie with their green feathered tall hats, because firstly – because they learned from the Galician Jews, that the gendarmes had an explicit order from the Kaiser, Franz Joseph, may his glory be elevated, to ‘look through their fingers’ at Russian Jews who flee across the border from Russia to Austria.

But what satisfied them the most, and calmed them, was the fact that Franz Joseph's gendarmes spoke almost a Yiddish-like language, so because of this, they thought that in the worst case, that even if a gendarme tried to take them up, they will be able to reason with him, using familiar phrases. How does a person not take pity on a Jewish refugee, even if he is a gendarme?

Simultaneously, he would ask the gendarme, what is it to you if we choose to live in Froyim-Yossel's^[6] country?

These thoughts strengthened the will behind their mission, and with confident steps, they traveled deeper into the new land.

Dragging themselves over villages and towns, they – meaning the two friends, Shlomo and Abram, arrived Wednesday morning in the first Austrian town with the musical name of Cieszanow.

The Austrian owner of the entire area resided in this town, the so-called ‘Bezirkhauptman.’

This Master, appointed to his post, was something of a minor king.

To be able to see the Bezirkhauptman personally, with one's own eyes, was tantamount to a holiday for the lower classes, a privilege.

However, this privilege was extended to them only twice in the year, on the eighteenth of August, which was the birthday of the Kaiser Franz Joseph, on which day, all of the residents of the town gathered together in the marketplace, and there, several days before, the children of the town would gather old things, douse it in kerosene, and on the night of the Emperor's ‘Name Day’ light a great fire.

When the ‘Bezirkhauptman’ approached the bonfire, everyone took off their hats, and with great earnestness, as was the case in the synagogue during prayer, sang the Austrian [national] anthem, ‘Gott Behalt, Gott Beschutze Unser Kaiser, Unser Land.’

When the assembly finished singing, the ‘Bezirkhauptman’ bowed his head with great dignity, and left the location.

The second time this nobleman appeared before his citizens on the anniversary of the date when the Empress,

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Elisabeth was assassinated.^[7]

On that day, the Jews would assemble in their houses of worship, recite Psalms for the soul of the Empress, and the Rabbi and the Head of the Community would hold forth with speeches, the finale of those annual patriotic speeches was every year nearly always the same.

The result of this was a song of praise for all the three ‘K's’ The Kaiser should live, the Kommandant should live, and also the ‘Koymenkerrer’ [the Chimney Sweep] should live. Bravo…bravo… everyone shouted, and clapped their hands out of great joy.

It was on one such holiday that the two former Russian Jewish boys arrived in the town.

The boys opened their dreamy eyes, like eight-day old children suckling at their mother's breast being awakened to the tumult of reality.

They began to think in a practical manner, and Abram being a watchmaker by trade, didn't need to think very long, went off to the big city, and it appears he succeeded there.

By contrast, Shlomo was a merchant, meaning that he had never acquired a trade in hand, and because of this, he, in the end, was forced to remain behind in the town of Cieszanow.

The first days in the town were a denouement for Shlomo, without relatives, without acquaintances.

People, by Shlomo's thinking lived in an entirely alien ‘milieu’ relative to what he was familiar with, and were a great novelty to him, as if they were people from a different planet.

The songs of praise, and good words being offered for their Emperor, and just the officials, was a novelty to him, and deep in his soul, he mocked what he considered to be the naive Galician Jews, and thought to himself – it is not for nothing that in Russia we refer to them as ‘Kira Mak,^[8]’ and he simply could not comprehend how a Jew could suddenly love his king.

Only a Jew who was a fool could do this, he thought, or a person with a screw missing upstairs.

Under no circumstances could Shlomo understand that it is possible for Jews to be great patriots of their land, if the gentile citizenry does not carry out pogroms against them.

But the real difference between the Russian Jews on the other side of the border, and the Galician-Austrian

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Jews on this side of the border is that – with the Russians, a real so-called ‘numerus-clausus𔳡 was in force, as regards Jewish young people, and from time to time, a bit of a pogrom was thrown in as an addition, but there was no lack of ways to make a living, and not only a livelihood – there were even quite wealthy Jews in ‘Ivan's’ land, as opposed to Froyim-Yossel's Jews, were the situation was fundamentally different – education, freedom – as much as you want, but a livelihood – next to nothing.

So many beggars, paupers, unfortunates, and ordinary genteel Jews without so much as a Kreuzer in their pocket, you would not find in the entirety of the Russian Empire. this is what Shlomo concluded after creating an acquaintanceship between himself and the village sage, Mendele Hammer.

What do we have, argued Mendele Hammer further, from our ‘doctorates’ in tailoring and shoemaking, or from the shtrymels worn by our wagon drivers together with their silken kapotes, when we are prepared to bite off a finger for a single Austrian Kreuzer.

Despite this, Shlomo acclimated himself to this world that was so alien to him, he rented a room from R' Jekuthiel Einbinder – a Jew with a black long beard, black curly side locks, a Hasidic Jew and a great Torah scholar – and immediately began thinking about making a living.

Shlomo was never an idler, and he thought and thought.

Ln the first market day in the town, which for years would take place on Tuesday, Shlomo gave his luck a try.

He went out to carry, bought flax, swine hair, eggs, chicken, and other goods, which he used to trade with in his home town of Tomaszow.

Shlomo spoke a good Polish, not like the native Galician buyers, who spoke with the peasants half in Deitschmerish^[9] and half in Polish.

The peasants, especially, wanted to deal only with ‘Szlomko’, and Shlomo really succeeded.

Immediately, Shlomo set up a store near R' Jekuthiel's little house, where he lived, in which he kept the merchandise that he bought.

The young girls of the town immediately took a shine to him, because in town, it was gossiped that Shlomo had become a wealthy man, but the truth was that Shlomo did not have the time to allocate to the girls of Cieszanow.

His businesses took all of his time, during the day he would travel to the fairs in surrounding towns and villages, and at night he would sort out his merchandise and sell it.

A sister of R' Jekuthiel Einbinder also lived with him, who was called Mirl, a very chaste young lady, with all the virtues, but she had two minor shortcomings, those being a lack of a bit of money, and a lack of

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feminine charm.

The dwelling of R' Jekuthiel, in which Shlomo lived, consisted of three rooms, which in reality was one single room, divided into a kitchen, a bedroom, and a sitting room.

Mirl sleeps in the kitchen, and R' Jekuthiel in the bedroom, and in the sitting room, R' Jekuthiel binds his books during the day, and at night, it serves a bedroom for Shlomo.^[10]

Naturally – when three adult people live in such close quarters, there is no lack of minor conflicts.

Every morning, Sholom had only one thing to do: Get going, there being no difference as to where, primarily – to get out of the room and the quicker the better, in order that Mirl be able to crawl out of her bed, in order to mover about the house earlier, and not to be thwarted by Shlomo.

The principal reason why Mirl always went around looking gloomy was, that there was a young, healthy, fresh man moving around in the other room, a merchant with all the virtues – and because of this, she thinks to herself: Go ask the Rashb”a a question?

Why, dear God, and for how long, must the virgin Mirl drag herself around, and sleep alone in her room?

Shlomo, wanting to exit the room, hears how Mirl suddenly shouts after him: say there, young man – which side of the bed did you get up on today? On the right side, or, perhaps altogether on the left side?

On both sides – Shlomo smiles cynically.

On only one – Mirl notes, on her way over to her brother Jekuthiel – on the side he laid down, her brother rumbled to her under his nose.

Ha, ha, ha. Jekuthiel shoots out a laugh at her.

Tell me, indeed, Shlomo – which side did you get up on today?

Shlomo casts a poisonous look at Mirl.

Do you understand? – he says to Jekuthiel.

This situation becomes increasingly more difficult and more complicated, complications manifest themselves – whether one wants them or not.

Three grown people in one room?

Here I mean – said Jekuthiel, defending Shlomo, and says to Mirl: we are not treating Shlomo correctly.

Shlomo, says Jekuthiel to Mirl, is a very familiar person to us, practically a relative.

Well, that is precisely what I don't want, Mirl answers sharply.

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It is not proper that Shlomo should remain in the family.

That is complete nonsense, Jekuthiel thinks to himself in his heart, I really and truly don't know why the silly goose holds herself so haughtily?

Does a young woman speak like this, who is waiting for a husband? Jekuthiel says this bitterly and quietly, but categorically to his sister.

Mirl becomes sad and serious instantly – and speaks directly to her brother as if he had just awoken from a sleep.

Do you mean, Jekuthiel, that I love Shlomo any less than you do?

Listen to what I will tell you Jekuthiel.

And this time, once and for all – the fact that we have Shlomo at home here is interfering with his private life, and deprives him of his will to become that which he must and has to become, he is becoming more and more of a bachelor, and he is becoming increasingly enamored of his bachelorhood, that is – being alone, and living alone.

Did you understand that? Mirl asked.

Jekuthiel agreed with Mirl, and he gave a sigh and said: this is possible.

Mirl said with conviction, we need to handle this differently.

We have to say to him frequently – give him his way, let him go where he wants to.

Not waiting for Jekuthiel's answer, Mirl gives a groan like someone who has fallen down from the attic – and maybe, Jekuthiel, perhaps it is more suitable that you find another place to live?

Jekuthiel smiles thereby, but Mirl retorts with a very specific and serious demeanor: Men do not understand women, they are flighty creatures.

Shlomo went off on his various ways, not thinking about Mirl, because – firstly, his days were taken up with traveling to the surrounding villages.

On Monday, to begin with, Shlomo was the first one in the village of Khatilov, Tuesday he spent the entire day conducting business at the market fair in Cieszanow, and every Wednesday, he had things to do with the peasants in the village of Lubliniec, Thursday and Friday in the other villages.

And in this fashion, months and years went by, and with every passing year, Shlomo grew more prosperous, until a certain Sabbath day in the summer, at the time of the afternoon prayers, when Shlomo, along with the ordinary rank and file Jews of the shtetl, were returning from the Little Synagogue of the ‘Yad-Kharutzim,’ with a full belly of instruction over the Pentateuch and Rashi commentary – thinking over, at the time, the incident of ‘Zimri ben Salu’ and what he did with the young girl ‘Kozbi bat Tsur,’ the daughter of the

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Midianite chieftain, with whom the young Jewish man sinned^[11], and he was suddenly seized with a fright and fear.

It is possible that such an occurrence could take place to him, God forbid, because a man is after all, only made of flesh and blood, he thought.

And what if, God forbid, the Evil Inclination should be stronger than him? What can become of this?

Additionally, he reminded himself, that during the past winter, he heard with his own ears, in that very same little synagogue, and from the very same R' Yossel'eh Melamed, a portion of the Pentateuch, in which God, Blessed be He, commanded the Adam, the first man, and said to him, as follows: ‘Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.^[12]’

After such thoughts, Shlomo took stock of himself.

Perhaps, he thought, the young women are right? It is necessary to do a little thinking about getting married.

Money, he thought, I have enough of, to rent a place and support a wife with children, is not the most difficult thing to do.

Most oppressively weighing on him were the dark Sabbath later afternoons, before nightfall.

The other nights of the week – even Friday night, kerosene lamps burned in the houses, and it was more or less light enough to see, but it was only on the Sabbath, late in the afternoon, that is, about the time of the Third Feast, a dark fear descended on him, because the entire town was engulfed in the darkness of an Egyptian plague, and on the Bombesgessel, as it was called – [the street] on which Shlomo lived, it was doubly dark because of the lack of space, and the poverty, and it was because of this, that Shlomo especially at the time of the Third Feast, was in an unhappy mood.

Arriving at his shared residence, he threw himself on the bed out of great aggravation, closing his eyes in the dark house, and making a merchant's calculation – that perhaps it would be easier if there were two?

It actually might cost a bit more, but what is one to do? Perhaps the Pentateuch text is right?

A man should not, and must not, sit alone, a man must get married?

Laying down, and sunk in his thoughts – he did not notice that someone had quietly stolen into his little room, which was now dark.

Suddenly, he felt that something was tickling him under the nose. Once, then again.

Not opening his eyes, he wipes the underside of his nose with a finger of his right hand.

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Shlomo again contemplates his options: to marry, or not to marry?

Something tickles him again under the nose, and again he wipes it – again he thinks – and again a tickle, and this goes on for quite a few minutes, until finally, Shlomo tries one more time, but this time with his entire hand, to grab the nasty stubborn fly under his nose, and to his astonishment, instead of a fly, he feels a thin hand which he had grabbed in his own.

In the first second, Shlomo was a bit frightened, but he immediately saw that it was Jekuthiel's hand.

He calmed himself, and asked, Jekuthiel? Is it permissible to recite the evening prayer yet, and light a candle? I am literally being asphyxiated by the darkness.

No, Shlomo, Jekuthiel replies – we need to wait another quarter of an hour.

Shlomo, Jekuthiel says further – I want to have a conversation with you about an important matter, and as you know in our Holy Writ it says, that at the time of the Third Feast, it is a time to show compassion, and since we still have a quarter of an hour, it is appropriate to ask you something of this nature….

It was difficult for Jekuthiel to articulate verbally that which he had inside of him.

Instead of speaking plainly, he obfuscated and stammered, and asked an aimlessly directed question: what is your opinion, Shlomo, of the repulsive story of the Jewish young man and that girl Kozbi bat Tsur, the Midianite princess?

As previously mentioned, Shlomo was no fool, and he immediately grasped ‘В Чём Дело’ as they would say in Shlomo's home,^[13] and he immediately understood that Jekuthiel wanted to discuss a serious matter with him. In order to ease Jekuthiel's soul, Shlomo suddenly says – Well, Jekuthiel, will you be satisfied? I agree to take Mirl to wife.

I tell you the truth Jekuthiel, Shlomo says further, hearing the story in the Pentateuch, about all that can befall a man, I was simply overcome with fear.

As a practical matter, I understand that the life of a man can follow two ways – the crooked way, for example, as the way in which the young man went in today's Torah portion, and a more straight way – simply as all good and pious Jewish young men go, one clarifies a wedding match, one gets married after erecting a wedding canopy.

Jekuthiel didn't let Shlomo finish, and he burst out with a sentiment of great joy, and out of the depths of his heart he cried out: Mazel Tov!

Shlomo was not in love with Mirl, but rather, the tale in the Pentateuch made such a strong impression on him, that he immediately decided to get married.

Since Jekuthiel was the first one to broach the marriage proposal, Shlomo didn't think about it for long, and while still under the weighty influence of the story, he immediately decided to become Mirl's bridegroom.

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In the morning, the entire town of Cieszanow reverberated with the news of the betrothal of Mirl and Shlomo.

Shlomo immediately bought a vacant location right on the Ringplatz, and immediately built a stone-walled house.

In time, Mirl bore Shlomo 5 sons and 2 daughters. and in between, Shlomo grew even more prosperous, and he was made Head of the community in the shtetl.

With the exception of Yusha^[14], Shlomo's sons all were built like their father, meaning, solid, massive, salt-of-the-earth Jews, good and simple.

By contrast, Yusha was very delicate, sitting and studying Torah day and night, reading Der Freier Zeit and the Vienna paper, ‘Neue Freie Presse.’ helping his parents in their business affairs which prospered even more.

All of Shlomo's children became the sons-in-law and daughters-in-law to simple, yet prosperous balebatim, with Yusha, by contrast, the son-in-law of R' Paltiel Schwartzberg, known in the entire district as a Torah scholar of reputable descent, and a great Hasid, but at the same time, someone of more modest means.

R' Yusha's wife, Faiga Ruchama, a renown beauty, genteel in her soul, with good aristocratic manners, and a good character, managed to attract people from all walks of life into R' Shlomo's house through her proud bearing and modest way of life, and it was because of this, and her good fortune that R' Shlomo's businesses prospered even more.

Shlomo immediately bought the ‘Profinancia,’ meaning the franchise for all manner of alcoholic beverages in the entire district, and in addition to this, he had the warehouse of ‘Akotzshimmer’ Beer, renown throughout all of Austria, and as an extra – a saloon with the only modern guest house with walls on which were hung pictures of the royal family of the Viennese courtyard.

R' Shlomo's kept his skilled son Yusha, with his even more talented daughter-in-law, Ruchama in his own home, from whom he derived substantial gratification.

From time to time, Ruchama's father, R' Paltiel the well-regarded mekhutan of R' Shlomo, would come to visit his daughter and son-in-law.

Walking with the mekhutan, R' Paltiel in the street, Shlomo felt himself to be highly honored, and would at that time introduce his mekhutan to anyone he would encounter in the street – this is R' Paltiel Schwartzberg, the great Torah scholar of such prominent descent – my mekhutan. At times like this, Shlomo would literally fall into a so-called ‘Mania Grandiosa.’

In the meantime, years went by.

Yusha and his wife Ruchama lived in the corner of the big house on the Ringplatz, which R' Shlomo had

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built.

Their dwelling consisted of a room with heavy massive furniture, a large table, on which stood a heavy oil lamp covered in a large globe, a bureau with sacred texts in it, that Yusha would consult every morning, a large, massive oven, made of white tiles, and on the side, an inside primitive telephone, which connected all of the rooms in R' Shlomo's house.

Near their room, there was a kitchen that served the entire residential premises, and also cooking and baking was done their for guests – merchants, who resided in Shlomo's hotel.

The walls of the kitchen were hung with a variety of brass and copper utensils, which gypsies would sell to Shlomo or exchange for a glass of strong drink.

In the kitchen, there was a dumb waiter which was used to send the cooked delicacies to the guests in the large dining room which was known throughout the area as the ‘big house.’

The room also served as a community meeting place, a place for political gatherings, and also in this room, the only place where the Lemberg theater troupe would perform their ‘Hinke-Pinke’ or a ‘Moyd a Flam’ with which they would grace the town almost every year.

The attendants and waiters, who worked on the first floor, then sent the emptied dishes up the dumb waiter to be cleaned.

Among the many rooms on the floor, there was a small reserved room off at a distance to the side, which was known by the name ‘The wedding Room,’ with a sexual undertone, or as R' Shlomo's grown up grandchildren used to call it, ‘The Intercourse Room.’

This room served R' Shlomo's children and grandchildren as the first night's bedroom after the wedding ceremony, which would take place in the large dining room.

All the rooms of the house were connected by a common plumbing system, the water coming through pipes from a huge storage tank which stood at the highest point of the house, which every morning, was filled by Abraham the Water Carrier, who would carry the water with his pails yoked across his scrawny shoulders, from the large well which was found in the very same Ringplatz of the town.

R' Shlomo very greatly enjoyed traveling to the city of Prague, on his return from the familiar Carlsbad, where, ever year, in the style of a wealthy man – he would travel tov repair, the gas lamps – which lit the hotels there.

Not giving it much thought, he bought luxurious lamps of this kind for his own hotel.

These new lamps indeed did make a strong impression on the town, it being as light in R' Shlomo's house, and the locals would say among themselves that it was as light in his house as if from the sun on a day in Tammuz, and they would come from all over the province to see this great wonder.

R' Shlomo's residential premises, in the meantime, grew in length and breadth, and with each passing year, his family extended itself further, sons, daughter, sons-in-law, daughters-in-law, and tens of grandchildren

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of both sexes, all of whom lived under the patronage of their father-grandfather.

Just as success pursued Shlomo in all his undertakings, he would modestly take pride – that whatever he touched – turns to gold, so – as the devil would have it, the angel of success distanced himself from his sons and sons-in-law.

Almost every year in, and year out, R' Shlomo would have to cover the debts of his sons and sons-in-law.

He had to do this, he once poured his heart out to his old acquaintance and friend, R' Gedalia Schreiber.

First, he argued, it simply doesn't look good for such a grand Jew, who is also wealthy, to be the object of finger pointing about his son, Beryl' eh, or his son-in-law, R' Luzer, who was the son of R' Pinchas, the former head of the community of his former Russian home town, the very same one who ordered the khappers, and also put Shlomo onto the list of recruits for ‘Ivan's’ soldiers – regarding their obligations.

It was an embarrassment for him, that his children were called – bankrupt, or debtor.

He was terrified at the mere thought of it – it is necessary to also understand this.

In ‘Kira's-Land’ someone who went bankrupt was not one of the better regarded business people, as was the case in ‘Ivan's’ country, there, in Ivan's territory, Shlomo said, a bankrupt was treated exactly like someone with a toothache, that when one extracts the painful tooth, it eases the soul, and the one who is ill is cured, but in ‘Kira's’ such a ‘Bankrupt’ as he was called in the Galitzianer dialect, would be aggravated to death by the children.

At every turn, a group of little folk would yell at the ‘Bankrupt,’ and they would work over the unfortunate individual so long, until he would uproot himself from the town, and his wife would be left abandoned forever, or they would simply drive him crazy, and he had to be committed to the so called ‘Fiaren’ in Lemberg, the well-known Insane Asylum, from which no one any longer emerged alive.

About thirty to forty ‘Kaiser Franz-Josephs’ and a large number of ‘Rothschilds’ loitered about in this ‘Fiaren.’

All these sick people where cured in such a way, that they never lived to see the beauty of God's world ever again, apart from which, R' Shlomo said to his friend, simultaneously – their houses, mine, – their good for my money, which they squeeze out of me, whether I want to or not.

If I don't give it to them graciously, I must give it to them grudgingly, they scandalize me, and not only once has my daughter Baylah Rachel knocked out my window panes.

Which ever one of them needs to pay off a note – comes to me – Father, pay.

So it is more appropriate that I pay graciously, without scandal – and discreetly.

And so years passed for R' Shlomo, with joy and grief, but more joy than grief.

Every Monday and Thursday, A bit if a happy occasion – today a Brit for a newborn grandson, tomorrow,

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consummation of a wedding contract, the day after tomorrow, a Bar Mitzvah, and in short order, weddings of his sons and daughters children descended on him, and also the various unmarried young ladies of the family.

R' Shlomo's dining hall was often busy with the happy occasions arranged by his children, naturally – at their father's expense, even his grandchildren knew how to hit up their grandfather for presents.

At the end of each summer, when R' Shlomo returned from Carlsbad, he brought back with him, a large trunk with a variety of presents, for the women, silk for clothing, for the men, silk for caftans, and also high plush fur ‘Hilkehs,’ hats; for the grandchildren a wooden stereopticon from Carlsbad with a magnifying glass in the middle, through which one looked with an eye to see pictures of the city of Carlsbad.

He brought separate valuable presents for his beautiful and well-bred daughter-in-law Faiga Ruchama, or as she was called in town, ‘Rukhamchi-Shlomo'leh's,’ and for her oldest son, Chaim-chi.

From all of his grandchildren, he derived the greatest nachas from two, [one] from the middle son, of his son-in-law R' Luzer, Chaizikl.

R' Shlomo had an extra sentiment for this little boy, first - because he, Chaizikl, was also the grandson of the former community head and his current mekhutan, but the essence of why he derived such nachas from Chaizikl, is because he was the outstanding one nearly from all of the grandchildren.

Chaizikl was a talented student, and a boy of whom it was said ‘Torah and commerce together with shined shoes.’ a well-known Galitzianer expression for aristocratic, Hasidic and studious young boys.

Also, the grandson, Chaim-chi the son of Ruchama, was a scholar, and a modern Hasidic boy.

Chaimchi was completely wrought in his mother's image, handsomely developed physically, blond silken hair, with two blue eyes that shined like stars in the sky, a face of white alabaster, around which two short curled side locks bounced about.

From these two grandsons, their grandfather R' Shlomo waxed along all dimensions, deriving pocketfuls of nachas from them.

Between them, these two little boys got along well with each other, but deep in each of their hearts, each wanted to outperform the other.

It was a genuine envy between two scholars.

When Chaizikl completed the study of the Talmudic tractate ‘Moed Katan’ in a matter of four weeks, Chaimchi applied himself strenuously, and completed his study of the tractate ‘Hagiga’ in a matter of only three weeks.

When Chaizikl engaged in a casuistic discourse in front of the young people of the town – scholars, R' Shia'leh Frenkel, R' Mikhl'leh Halberstam, R' David Dieler, and others, and literally integrated ‘East’ with ‘West’ Chaimchi was so strongly motivated, that he sat for several Thursday nights, delving deeply

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into a number of Gemara texts, with the commentary of the Tosafot, Maharam, and Maharsha, until he was able to deliver a simple discourse that not only integrated ‘East’ and ‘West’ but ‘North’ and ‘South’ as well.

When Chaimchi celebrated his Bar Mitzvah, all of the distinguished Jews of the town attended the grand feast for that occasion.

Chaimchi's second grandfather, R' Paltiel Schwartzberg, came to the festive occasion with a whole regiment of relatives, genteel young men with sharp Hasidic minds, the older relatives with not insubstantial waistlines, and on their Gaonic heads, fur hats, with yarmulkes protruding.

The Bar Mitzvah boy, adorned for his full length with golden watches, bracelets, and just plain golden jewelry, gave a very analytical discourse, both grandfathers carrying on a sharp discussion between themselves, his father R' Yusha and his mother Ruchama exuded nachas from their talented darling.

The Rabbi of the town, R' Issachar Dov, a great Torah scholar and also a well-known ‘Rebbe’ to thousands of Hasidim, who never would attend the festive occasions of such balebatim, made an exception for Chaimchi.

The Rebbe, in all his splendor, accompanied by his Gabbaim and Hasidim came to the Bar Mitzvah feast of little Chaimchi.

Hearing the analytical discourse from Chaim, the Rebbe, for so was his custom, in order not to permit the Evil Eye to gain control, specifically engaged the young man, and deliberately tried to catch him making a mistake.

Chaimchi, however had a good and genuine Talmudic head on his shoulders, and he wriggled like a fish in the water, and extricated himself from the substantial trap into which the great and respected Rabbi had tried to lead him.

And it was in this way, that life went on, and R' Shlomo's premises increased and fructified with nachas and happiness, until God mad a war, and drove his people Israel to all four corners of the world.

On a beautiful July day in the year 1914, in the city of Sarajevo in Bosnia-Herzegovina, the Austrian Heir Apparent, [Archduke Francis] Ferdinand was shot [and killed] by the Serbian student [Gavrilo] Prinzip.

The shot in Sarajevo destabilized the life of the Jewish populace in the Austro-Hungarian monarchy.

Since the year 1866, the year of the war between Austria-Hungary on one side, and Italy-Germany on the other side, forty eight years of peace had elapsed.

During those years, the Jewish populace in the Austrian country, under the rule of the fanatically clerical, but good Emperor Franz Joseph, lived in great tranquility, and became substantially emancipated.

Up to the tragic shot in Sarajevo, a factual and positive equality reigned for the Jewish populace in this country, and when, on the day of July 28, 1914, the so-called ‘Manifest’ to my people was published by the Emperor, the Jews of Galicia, upon reading this ‘Manifest’, shed rivers of tears, not, God forbid, because

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the land was threatened by war, along with its unforeseeable sorrowful consequences, but rather simply – out of pity for their elderly Emperor, Franz-Joseph, who was compelled in his old age, to engage himself in order to lead a war.

The patriotism of the Jews grew stronger daily, young and old ran to the mobilization points, to present themselves for military service.

R' Shlomo, at that time had already passed away, as also had his son, R' Yusha, who was no longer alive, the businesses, however, primarily the saloon and the hotel, were managed by his daughter-in-law Ruchama, with the assistance of her little son Chaimchi, who was already a that time grown to be a fourteen year-old-boy.^[15]

Immediately in the first days of the war, all manner of military units began to stream through the town of Cieszanow, from all of the Austrian nations who lived on Austro-Hungarian territory.

The town was found in border territory, and indeed the Austrian-Russian ‘front’ was not far from the town.

There was an unending march of military units – day and night. Infantry was seen to be immediately on the move, after them – artillery accompanied by the famous Austrian aristocratic cavalry, in which almost all of the officers were princes, dukes, barons, and so forth.

In the third day after the outbreak of the war, on the way to the front, an entire brigade of mounted dragoons arrived in the town, with their golden insignias on their decorated uniforms, and with feathers in their tall hats.

These dragoons disembarked to rest on the large Ringplatz of the town, in contrast with the officers who quartered themselves in the fine Jewish houses.

Two officers quartered themselves in Faiga Ruchama's house, one was the grandson of the Emperor Franz-Joseph, with his high name and title of Oberleuetnant Prinz von Windisch-Graetz, and his companion was a Jew from Vienna with the his own also aristocratic name of Leutenant Baron von Rothschild.

The two young officers were so-called friends, or at least that what it looked like to the observer, but what actually went on in the heart of the Catholic Prince in regard to this seeming friendship with the Jewish Baron, remained his secret, which a few days later, as a result of a Russian bullet that found its mark, he took with him to his grave.

From a conversation overhead by happenstance, in the form of a dialogue between the two officers, which took place in the presence of a Jewish waiter in Ruchama's hotel – who had served the two officers, we can construct a picture and understand how the true collegial friendship between the two aristocrats appeared:

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The Prince: Today is Sunday, today we go to church, right?
The Baron: Not I.
The Prince: Aha – Jude.
The Baron: I am proud to be a Jew.
The Prince: I would not be so proud to be a Jew.
The Baron: I am not certain if Jewish blood does not also course in you.
The Prince: God forbid – I am a pure Aryan.
The Baron: Almost all Aryan Europeans are descended from Jews.
The Prince: That is an exaggeration.
The Baron: Also, your God, in whose name you shame us, comes from Jews.

Suddenly, in the middle of the conversation, Rothschild notes that one of his boots is torn, and he asks of the waiter, to covey the boot immediately to a shoemaker for repair, but he also wishes that the shoemaker should return the repaired boot to him personally, because he wishes to see, he thinks – with his own eyes, what a Jewish shoemaker from a small Galician town looks like.

An hour did not pass, and R' David Schuster^[16] brought the repaired boot back.

Rothschild was greatly amazed by the shoemaker, and the truth be known, there really was something to be amazed at.

R' David Schuster was no ordinary little shoemaker, he was ‘also a shoemaker,’ but more importantly, he was a handsome Jewish man, with a wide beard, and in addition to this he was a Hasid, and a bit of a scholar.

Ignoring his trade as a shoemaker, the prominent balebatim condescended to him, and did not keep their distance from him as was their habit with other working people in the town, and especially with regard to shoemakers.

Baron Rothschild, holding the boot in one hand, didn't know what to wonder about first, whether the good, clean workmanship, or the one whom he thought to be – a Rabbinical shoemaker.

He has heard, that in ancient times, among the Jews there was such a shoemaker, who was called R' Yohanan HaSandlar, and because of this, he was fortunate to have the privilege of seeing a latter-day replica of the ancient shoemaker, R' Yohanan.

Out of great inspiration, Rothschild extracted a fifty crown note from his wallet, and gave it to R' David for his work.

It was the first time in his life that R' David had ever seen a denomination of this size, for which, in those times, one could purchase a small house.

Exiting from Rothschild's room with the bank note n hand, R' David didn't know for what to thank God first, for the privilege of being so close the legendary Rothschild, and in his residence, or for the great fortune, for the fifty crowns which he received from the Baron.

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The entire town rang with this news almost immediately, and a big hullabaloo ensued, from the double news, first that Rothschild is located at the home of Faiga Ruchama, and more to the point, that the rank and file Jews were intensely envious of R' David's good fortune.

As was to evolve later, the ‘Fifty Note’ was not all that lucky for R' David personally, because first, he suddenly acquired a host of ‘friends,’ and all, as one, even the balebatim who occupy seats at the East Wall of the synagogue, at once became ‘good brothers’ with R' David.

Every one of them sought to do R' David a favor, and give him good advice on how to spend this huge sum of money.

R' David, a Jewish man who was no fool, thought – Good.

Let them all flatter me as much as they like, but ‘money’ from me – let's move very slowly with the horsecart.

It took a strenuous amount of energy every day to separate himself from he ‘new friends,’ and he quietly let it be known that the town banker, R' Shia Kigler, should pay him a call at home one evening.

The note, that is the Fifty [Crowns], he turned over to R' Shia, and for it, he received a pretty red booklet from his bank.

The Fifty Crown note was put to good use by R' Shia, because it didn't take long before ‘Ivan’ invaded ‘Kira's’ country, and all the Jews fled to wherever their legs could carry them, one to Prague, a second to Budapest, but in the main, the Galitzianer Jews felt close to Vienna, and indeed, the larger part to off for Vienna.

R' David never saw the money again with his own eyes, and on that occasion, the folk proverb was realized that said: ‘Nie byles panem i nie bedziesz panem.^[17]’

Also, Ruchama and her children fled in fear before ‘Ivan's’ Cossacks.

The echelon that led to the west, deposited a portion of ‘refugees’ in each Austrian country, in Bemen, Merren, Hungary, but in Lower Austria, Burgenland, overall the communities took in the Jews very favorably.

A large portion, who could show that the had enough capital, were permitted entry to Vienna.

Ruchama, with her children, on arriving in the middle of the night at the ‘Nordbanhof’ in Vienna, were not cordially permitted to debark from the train cars by the local police with their shimmering mirror-like helmets on their heads, and the snow-white gloves on their hands.

They, the police, had an order regarding the remainder of the refugees found in the echelon, to be sent on to a city with the comical name, ‘Hatzen.’

Suddenly, an outcry and a shout was heard throughout the station: we want to remain in Vienna, only in

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Vienna – only in Vienna.

No – no, you are traveling to Hatzen, only on to Hatzen, the elegant, cordial, but firm Viennese police replied.

In the middle of this, a giant confusion and panic ensued.

The Galitzianer Jewish refugees, from the first moments of the war, looked to the Viennese like a pathetic burned out relation, indeed, a distant relation at that, but still a relation, and it was through this that the President of the Vienna police took pity on those who fled, and issued a new order, that whoever among them can demonstrate a level of capital of at least one thousand crowns, which can even be in the form of a bank book in the above indicated amount, will be admitted to Vienna without impediment.

Ruchama did not lack for money, and she immediately reached into her bosom, and pulled out a packet of Thousand Crown Austrian notes.

Her neighbor R' Moshe Honigsberg was able to do the same, incidently, an enlightened Jewish man, and a Torah scholar of important pedigree, and an even more important extensively branched family.

This R' Moshe, later became the mekhutan of Ruchama, and the father-in-law of her little son, Chaimchi.

All the others who did not have such a sum of money to show, needed to drag themselves on further to the place known as ‘Hatzen.’

Crying and pleading were to no avail. ‘Nach Hatzen – Nach Hatzen’ the police commanded, a whistle from the train, and off we go, to Hatzen.

The meaning of ‘Hatzen’ remained as a cognitive among the Galitzianer Jews for a ‘place of exile’ for those who were [forcibly] sent there.

The name and meaning of ‘Hatzen’ among Galitzianer Jews was no different that the name and meaning of ‘Siberia’ to Russian Jews,

In the meantime, one made a living, ate ‘meissbrot’ and baked ‘meisskuchen,’ that is, the Yiddish expressions for bread and rolls made from corn.

As is known, a great famine reigned in Vienna at that time, and no other produce could be obtained, and so one made do only with maize.

During the day, one was occupied with the ‘black market’ and at night, one gathered for the communal feat on maize.

The young Galician boys were still free from having to go off to military service, as well as the young girls, and, for the time being, they made use of the time to throw themselves into lower and upper schools, with an enormous thirst for education.

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The studies did not pose any great difficulty to them, and neither was acceptance in the schools.

As mentioned, in the Austrian country, no numerus-clausus existed for Jewish citizens, as was the case in ‘Ivan's’ land, secondly – the German language was not foreign to them, for them it was a second mother tongue.

Almost ever Galitzianer boy or girl, knew half of ‘Schiller, Goethe or Heine’ by heart, at every opportunity, a Galitzianer girl or boy would quote from ‘Die Glocke’ by Schiller, the ‘Disput von dem Rebbe und Mensch’ by Heine, and above all, the famous ‘[Liebes] Leiden dem Jungen Werthers,’ by Goethe.

It was not only one sentimental girl who shed rivers of tears at the reading of this heartbreaking fantasy.

The intellectual level of a groom, or a bride was judged by who remembers more poetry by heart. from these so-called ‘heavyweights’ from the above mentioned German poets.

Chaimchi also took stock of himself. and he thought to himself, that a suitable time had come for him to become a doctor, professor, or possible a Professor of Medicine altogether.

The easiest, he thought to himself, would be to study at a Teacher's Seminary, first – this profession was not unfamiliar to him, because while yet in his Galician home, he had learned a great deal from the pedagogical texts, and second, he found himself in a pedagogical milieu in Vienna, who largely drew him into religious study, that is to say, to Holy Writ and less to secular study, such as: medicine, technology, or other secular occupations.

Chaimchi took to his studies with a ferocious intensity and temperament, before dawn, he studies at the large well-known ‘Schiffschule’ with Rabbi Yeshayeh'leh Furst, the Rabbi of that synagogue, after noon, in the famous Teacher's Seminary of Professor Hayot, the Head Teacher of Vienna.

For almost three and a half years, Chaim'l studied Jewish subject matter, in these two places of study, which were very well known to the larger part of Galician Jewry.

In the meantime the God of War did his thing, and wrought deeds.

Each year, the war consumed millions of innocent people. Fathers, sons, brothers and brothers-in-law, fell like flies on the various fronts.

The war machine behind the front was compelled to continue working ceaselessly. It worked day and night, each month, others were called to military service, so that the new recruits could take the place of those who fell in the ranks.

The turn of Chaim'l also came.

And the day came, on a beautiful Sabbath in the morning, an order was published in the city of Vienna, that all men born in the year have to immediately present themselves to the so-called ‘musterung,’ meaning a call-up to the military.

Chaim'l found himself among those, who needed to object to the commission, to drop his studies in the

[Page 70]

middle to which he was so strongly committed.

Paying no mind to the great patriotism that reigned among the Jews towards their Emperor, Chaimchi, despite this, did not have any great desire to lay his young head on the altar of war.

As a result of this decision, Chaim'l took upon himself the enormous responsibility and placed himself in the greatly dangerous position of a ‘deserter,’ that is to say, someone who avoided military service during wartime, for which there is the threat of either a death penalty or life imprisonment, and despite this great danger, he hid himself for eight months in a place where it was not easy to find him.

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