The Night of Broken Glass

Growing up in Brooklyn, New York in the 1950’s and 1960’s was like growing up in the shadow of the Second World War. To know about the Holocaust is one thing, but to live amongst people who were affected by it; either by a friends family members, who were left behind in Europe and never made it through the war, or the many survivors; or refugees as they were known; who bore the blue inked numerical tattoo affixed to their wrists, was quite another. That tattoo identified them as survivors of the death camps, and these persons were revered, as they had looked death squarely in the eye and lived.

Today is the 75^th anniversary of Kristallnacht, or the “Night of Broken Glass”. This photo shows the shock and fear on the faces of the little boy and his mother, prompting me to wonder if they were Jewish. Most likely they were not; as any sane person of Jewish heritage would have been indoors when this photo was taken after the first night of killing and burning had ended. But shock and fear know no ethnic boundaries, and these 2 people may just be reacting to the world having gone mad; seemingly in an instant; although the storm had been gathering since about 1933. Like Katrina in New Orleans, most people hoped the big storm would never arrive, changing everything.

The toll from the Night of Broken Glass was written up in terms of how many buildings destroyed, how many lives lost and the like. But all of those figures can never do justice to what was really lost in that night of Nazi fueled hatred. The 267 synagogues, stores, and homes destroyed that night at the direction of the Nazis, along with the vandalism of 7,500 Jewish businesses, and the killing of almost 100 Jewish people were just the tangible portion of the damage.

The events of November 9-10, 1938, while police and firemen stood by and watched; or turned a blind eye; signaled the selling of the German soul. And the judgment for that would be severe.

Kristallnacht marked the point of the Third Reich in which vulgar political rhetoric became vulgar acts of criminality. These acts would grow into the largest attempt ever made to annihilate any particular group of people. And that is the point of marking this grim anniversary. In our country today, we have so many hate groups, all engaged in violent and inhuman rhetoric. And that’s how it starts. With a bit of talk, leading people to become jaded in the face of veiled racism and prejudice.

And, what happens later, when it all spirals out of control? You wind up walking down a street scarred by once seemingly innocuous words; windows broken and holding your child’s hand in fear for the loss of everything you have ever known. Especially your own self-respect.

"Old Sailors Poem" by Larry Dunn RMCM, USN - Ret.

The following poem was sent via e-mail to all of the crew members of the USS Milwaukee, the fleet oiler I served aboard when I was in the Navy. I could think of no more fitting illustration than the one above, which is a comparison of the real life photo used by Norman Rockwell in his iconic drawing.

The poem was written by Chief Dunn and published on the spiritual blog The Chronicle Watch, which is located at http://www.chroniclewatch.com/ and  forwarded to me by Dennis Bieak, an old shipmate from the 1970’s. It was forwarded in caps, so I’m leaving it that way. Something’s in life don’t need to be polished to shine brightly….

Old Sailors Poem by Larry Dunn, RMCM, USN (Ret)

OLD SAILORS SIT AND CHEW THE FAT

ABOUT THINGS THAT USED TO BE,

OF THE THINGS THEY'VE SEEN, THE PLACES THEY'VE BEEN,

WHEN THEY VENTURED OUT TO SEA.

THEY REMEMBERED FRIENDS FROM LONG AGO,

THE TIMES THEY HAD BACK THEN.

THE MONEY THEY SPENT, THE BEER THEY DRANK,

IN THEIR DAYS AS SAILING MEN.

THEIR LIVES ARE LIVED IN DAYS GONE BY,

WITH THOUGHTS THAT FOREVER LAST.

OF BELL BOTTOM BLUES, WINGED WHITE HATS,

AND GOOD TIMES IN THEIR PAST.

THEY RECALL LONG NIGHTS WITH A MOON SO BRIGHT

FAR OUT ON A LONELY SEA.

THE THOUGHTS THEY HAD AS YOUTHFUL LADS,

WHEN THEIR LIVES WERE WILD AND FREE.

THEY KNEW SO WELL HOW THEIR HEARTS WOULD SWELL

WHEN OLD GLORY FLUTTERED PROUD AND FREE.

THE UNDERWAY PENNANT SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT

AS THEY PLOWED THROUGH AN ANGRY SEA.

THEY TALKED OF THE CHOW OL' COOKIE WOULD MAKE

AND THE SHRILL OF THE BOS UN'S PIPE.

HOW SALT SPRAY WOULD FALL LIKE SPARKS FROM HELL

WHEN A STORM STRUCK IN THE NIGHT.

THEY REMEMBER OLD SHIPMATES ALREADY GONE

WHO FOREVER HOLD A SPOT IN THEIR HEART,

WHEN SAILORS WERE BOLD, AND FRIENDSHIPS WOULD HOLD,

UNTIL DEATH RIPPED THEM APART.

THEY SPEAK OF NIGHTS IN PIG ALLEY AND GUT

ON MANY A FOREIGN SHORE,

OF THE BEER THEY'D DOWN AS GATHERING AROUND,

TELLING JOKES AND SEA STORIES GALORE.

THEIR SAILING DAYS ARE GONE AWAY,

NEVER AGAIN WILL THEY CROSS THE BROW.

THEY HAVE NO REGRETS, THEY KNOW THEY ARE BLESSED,

FOR HONORING A SACRED VOW.

THEIR NUMBERS GROW LESS WITH EACH PASSING DAY

AS THE FINAL MUSTER BEGINS,

THERE'S NOTHING TO LOSE, ALL HAVE PAID DUES,

AND THEY'LL SAIL WITH SHIPMATES AGAIN.

I'VE HEARD THEM SAY BEFORE GETTING UNDERWAY

THAT THERE'S STILL SOME SAILING TO DO,

THEY'LL SAY WITH A GRIN THAT THEIR SHIP HAS COME IN

AND THE GOOD LORD NEEDS A GOOD CREW.

Holocaust Homage?

I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw this photo earlier this week. I really had to think about doing this post, as I do not want to offend anyone at all. I’m just confused. As a Jew, I am prohibited from marking my body, with the exception of circumcision, which is considered to be a mark of faith in God. We all know, or should know, the story of Abraham and Isaac, when God commands Abraham to kill his son in order to ascertain his faith in the Lord. At the last moment, Abraham’s hand was stayed by God, and Isaac lived as a sign of God’s mercy. Of course the Islamic religion claims that it was Isaac’s brother, Ismael, who received this mercy, but that is neither here nor there as far as this post goes.

If you believe in the Old Testament, then tattooing your body is clearly prohibited by Mosaic Law as espoused in Leviticus 19:28, which prohibits "cutting oneself for the dead" and "putting writing/drawings made by incision on yourselves“. So, it seems pretty clear to me what this young man’s responsibility to his religion is comprised of when tattooing is concerned. I am also sensitive to his desire to honor his grandmother, although totally befuddled by the method in which he chose to do it, as well as her apparent adoration of him for it.

During the Second World War, at Auschwitz, Livia Rebak was branded, or tattooed, with the number 4559. This was the way the Nazi’s dehumanized their victims; turning their names into numbers in a ledger, prior to annihilating them en masse. Now her grandson, Daniel Philosof, has the same tattoo. This has me very confused.

On the one hand, it is admirable that he would emphasize with his Grandmaother, almost as if he were cutting his hair in support of her undergoing radiation, or chemotherapy. I can understand the reasoning behind it. But, to mutilate yourself, in violation of your own religion; in effect acting in concert with the people who defiled your grandmother and her beliefs; makes no sense to me at all. It’s almost like handing Hitler a Victory lap, voluntarily scarring another generation of Jews with the same mark of inferiority and shame, simply for being Jewish.

My own feelings are that he would better serve in honoring his grandmother by wearing a big Star of David; proudly proclaiming to the world that he is here in spite of the tattoo which was forced upon his grandmother.

To be sure, this was a very personal decision which both Ms. Rebak and her grandson have made, and they have that right. But I just wish he would have opted to go with the Star of David instead. For, in my mind’s eye, I can see Hitler laughing.