Survive and Tell (cont.)

Deputy Commandant of the 935th Battalion

In the spring of 1954, Captain Yehuda Birnbaum, who was my commandant in the 885^th heavy antiaircraft squadron, had to attend an officer's course. At that time, the army decided that all those who had received officer's rank without attending a course, would gradually be called to attend the course so that they could graduate retroactively.

My brother David was also sent to officer's course, even though he was already Captain. Biri had been serving as Deputy Battalion Commandant for the 935^th Reserves Battalion for over two years. This was a northern division, next to the Regular Army Battalion 881. In the south there was the 945^th Reserves Battalion that was next to the 882^nd Battalion in Herzlia.

There were 9 batteries in the 935^th Battalion, all operating 20mm guns. The regular battalions operated 40mm Bofors guns L-60. Biri asked me to fill in for him until he returned from the course. He said he had already cleared it with the Battalion Commandant and, being that he had no objection, the issue was closed. I agreed.

Biri began to transfer over the battalion, which included hundreds of personnel dossiers, a diary, a clerk named Hedva Cohen, and a storekeeper (a relatively older man who, prior to being recruited, had been a milkman in Haifa). The storekeeper controlled all the guns and equipment for the 9 batteries.

Even though Biri had been born in Teplits in the Czech Republic, he behaved like a "Yekkeh". He was calculated and organized and I learnt from him how to plan, organize, to pay attention to every detail and not leave anything to chance. From him, I learned to hate the expression "Matshoin Maachen" (everything will be alright, we'll find a way).

Biri had planned, up to the finest detail, everything concerning the training of the 9 batteries for the summer and autumn. All issues connected to the training areas, planes, transportation, ambulances and so on, were all written down and in order, so that even an ordinary clerk could have managed the battalion.

All that was left was to pull out the relevant date from the file and dispatch. Everything was planned in full – everything was perfect.

I asked Biri why he worked so hard to plan each detail. He apologized and said that, had he known that I was going to be his replacement, he would have sufficed with only a general plan. Biri gave a copy of his plan to the Antiaircraft Commandant at that time, Lieutenant Colonel Joel (Frank) Paran and received a commendation.

Biri left for the course and I felt that I had nothing to do – everything had been organized, written and signed. Hedva, the clerk, was very nice: she had graduated from teacher's seminar, her family had lived in the country for many generations and she came from Bat-Galim. She treated me with more respect than I was used to. For her, I was Biri's replacement and, because of this, she apparently gave me this respect.

Since becoming an officer, I had always had my own office. But here, because I had replaced Biri, I shared the room with Hedva and this increasingly caused me concern.

I knew I had no chance with her because she already had a boyfriend who was a student at the "Technion", Akiva Harari, an officer who had served with me in the battalion and had replaced me as Battery Commandant when I joined Biri in the 885^th heavy antiaircraft squadron.

She got butterflies in her stomach when her boyfriend had to take exams and got very upset when he did not receive the results he had expected, till finally he told her that he wanted to break up with her.

I was the only solace she had and we became more than just friends. We dated, went to parties that I had been invited to, including the one at Training Center 9 and, in all, we were classed a couple that was most probably be destined to marry.

The love affair was at its peak; I had no doubt that I had found "the one". I felt good with her. She initiated everything and liked to do so. But reinforcement women soldiers arrived at the camp and one of them was a young, tall, dark-haired soldier with just the right dimensions, a typist who used to bring me the daily routine orders.

She tried to visit me in my office as much as she could, using every excuse under the sun. I was still with Hedva and did not know that a plot was being weaved against me.

Rivka with the duty officer
Shmuel Roth (Rahat)

Marriage

Slowly, slowly and in parallel to my affair with Hedva, I became closer and closer to Rivka Rosenthal. During one of the meetings of the battalion command, when her name was entered as being a candidate for one of the head clerical positions, I said that it would be a shame to send her away because she was due to be married soon. When they asked the meaning of this statement, I just told them that I was the one that was going to marry her. The surprise was great, because everybody had assumed that I was going to marry Hedva. My relationship with Rivka had been a complete secret up till that meeting.

When everything came out into the open, I took Rivka to meet my parents. We still lived at 57 Hillel Street. In honor of Rivka's impending visit, Mother collected all the "skin" of the milk for the week beforehand, and gave Rivka a coffee with the milk "skin". Not only did Rivka not like the "skin", she absolutely hated it and felt utter revulsion, but what do you do in order to catch a man?

She suffered without a peep. This was the test, to prove that she was either desperate or really in love with me. Another test, in which she was successful, was when she joined a campaign I had organized for the recruits. She walked in the most uncomfortable things you could wear for a campaign - Wellington boots. I saw her corns, which were very bad, but she did not complain in the slightest. I thought that anyone who could suffer pain like this and eat something that she had hated all her life would be able to suffer me. I could not think of a more appropriate psychometric or psychological test. (With regard to the validity of the tests she came up against during our life together, I will perhaps write a book).

Rivka's parents, Shulamit, nee Wolf, and Reuben Rosenthal, lived at 16 Geula Street. Her father was born in Zinkov in the Ukraine and her mother was born in Sambor in Poland. But she had grown up in Germany. They welcomed me and offered me coffee with cream (Schlagsahne) in their "Rosenthal" set of dishes with an elegant gold decoration around the edges. I endeavored to impress them accordingly.

They asked about me from friends who were acquainted with my parents in Besarabia. They asked the Kupchik's about us, the owner of the grocery store opposite their house. Kupchik came to Israel from Lipcani and he knew my parents well.

Everyone gave a good opinion "even though" I was born in Romania. The "Romanians" did not have a good name at that time in Israel, as was the case for every new group of immigrants who arrived in the country: the "Yekkim", the Moroccans, the Russians, the "Georgians" (Gruzinim), the Persians and, lastly, the Ethiopians.

I apparently passed Rivka's parents test - as well as Aunt Mania's and Grandma Esther's. I even asked for their permission to get married. Everything went smoothly, we did not talk about "conditions", because most were hinted during our conversations.

We prepared for the wedding that was set for July 1^st 1954. Provisions were still being rationed. We started to hoard provisions and a good friend of ours from the army, Vreshner,' owner of "The Little Cake" coffee bar, baked delicious and beautiful cakes for us, for which we paid in full. I bought the drinks from the "Shekem". I worked everyday on the preparations for the wedding and on the day I was exhausted.

The wedding took place at the "Windsor" Hotel, Carmel Boulevard in Haifa. Another wedding was also taking place in the hall at the same time and, from the complaints of our guests, it became apparent that the owner of the hall was equally distributing the food and cakes that I had worked so hard to accumulate between the two weddings. Biri was witness to our marriage. He was very moved; it was as if his only son was getting married.

Rivka received, as her dowry, a plot of land on the Carmel, at 4 Vitkin Street in Achuza. Her father gave the plot to a contractor in exchange for a three-roomed apartment. (The estimated value of that plot today is $1,000,000). In the meantime, we lived in one room with the Rosenthal's, Rivka's parents.

Crowded as it was in the apartment, the Rosenthal family went out of their way to make us feel comfortable. I felt very good in the apartment, even though I felt even better when we moved to our own home in Tel Aviv a year later. I served in the battalion during the day and practically every evening, we went to the cinema. We ate at my parents of Friday evenings who had, in the meantime, moved to 18 Arlozorof Street. We visited both sets of parents and especially Eliezer and Elka'le Gammerman, my foster parents from Cyprus.

By this time, my father had left his place of work at the Ministry of Commerce and had begun to work at a flourmill belonging to Karaman, a rich Arab, next to the "Hassidim" village. Father gave up a good job with low pay to a higher paid job but without security conditions, such as pension scheme, etc. Later on, he would very much regret this.

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