My presentation this evening of "Judaism, D-day, plus 3", would not be complete without an introduction to Judaism in the military as it impacted on me and undoubtedly on many others during the war years of 1941 through 1945. Entering the service was not only a rude awakening of finding oneself in the midst of strangers from every locale, but also an exposure to a new society unlike any previous experience witnessed before.

I can recall that my personal and social contacts as a youth in the mid-western city of Kansas City, Missouri was one where there was a division of a close association with Jews and Gentiles. Perhaps my only homogeneous contacts was being an active member of the Boy Scouts of America which exercised tolerance and respect in the manner of customs and religion of others which was one of the precepts of the Boy Scout law. High school was a different story and the division was seemingly omnipresent. In 1990 at my 50th high school reunion it was still noticeable as those of the Jewish faith sat together at the banquet tables as though they were still in the lunch room at Central Senior High.

I am sure that many of our parents of an older generation sustained mixed emotions regarding their sons entering the military as their thoughts were entwined with experiences of the first World War and also the reason for leaving the shtetls of Europe to escape compulsory service in the military under the Czar and other rulers.

My father served with the British Army during the 1914-1918 war and from the stories related by him and my mother sets one to thinking what progress had been made regarding Judaism in the military.

My father was orthodox and practiced his faith with fervor which was not dissimilar to those who fell into this same category. He had never eaten trayf and adhered to all dietary laws. It became an impossibility with rationing for my mother to send him parcels to France on a continuing basis due to a scarcity of some foods in England and for the first time in his life he experienced the taste of unkosher food. He also found out that the "angel of the Lord" did not smite him dead and like the fairy story, "lived happily ever after"

This now brings me to the present and my entry into service as a draftee in January 1943. I was assigned to a Engineer Combat Battalion located at Camp McCain, Mississippi where I started my basic training as a combat engineer. I was destined to become an expert in demolitions and the removal of mines and booby-traps, which I must admit with candor saved my life and perhaps others on several occasions. When a medical detachment was activated toward the end of basic training I volunteered to become a member of this new unit and for the next thirty-six years I remained assigned to the Army Medical Department.

The rigors, let alone the tedium of basic training seemed endless and as far as the practice of my faith, was restricted and often ignored by those of higher authority. The opportunity to attend Sabbath service on Friday would have been a lost cause as on Friday after the evening meal all personnel were detailed throughout the battalion to prepare for the Saturday morning inspection. Those of you who can remember that a G.I. party was one where you scrubbed the barracks floor, washed the windows, polished the space heaters, climbed up in to the rafters to remove invisible dust as there was often a white glove inspection

Saturday morning the inspection was carried out as though a cyclone had hit and many were put on report for not having their bunks properly made: socks tucked improperly in their footlockers;, and uniforms and other clothing not hung on the rack in the proper sequence and on and on. There was no respite following this as we often viewed it as an exercise in futility as there was often a full layout of field equipment and so much for Saturday morning and the Sabbath.

Those of the Christian faith were more fortunate in the pursuit of their persuasion as on Sunday morning the bugler sounded church call and those who were so inclined were availed the opportunity to attend their respective services. I must admit there were services held for Jewish personnel on the Post , but the chapel was so remote from ones area and transportation to and from was not a programmed procedure. I cannot recall a single visitation of a Jewish Chaplain during my entire stay at Camp McCain from February to September of 1943. I attended only one Friday night service after basic training, but Passover came and went as it did for the next two years without any celebration.

My first contact with a Rabbi was at the staging area prior to going to Europe at Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. Following a Sabbath service the JWB (Jewish Welfare Board) presented us with aluminum cased mazuzas that could be attached to our Dog Tags or identification tags, which I still have and wore for the next thirty plus years. From that point on nothing was really made available for Jewish personnel of separate combat units. If one was situated in an Army headquarters, division , brigade or regiment there was a possibility that a Jewish chaplain might be assigned

In December we embarked for Europe and there was a lack of any preparation while stationed in England up until the time of the invasion of France to acquaint Jewish personnel with activities coinciding with their faith. On the evening of 5 May 1944 at the marshalling area in Weymouth, masses and prayer services were held, but without participation of a leader from our faith...how sad! At midnight of that same day the greatest armada since the time of the defeat of the Spanish fleet by Sir Francis Drake departed the British Isles.Destination... Normandy. Landing area... Omaha Beach. It was now Tuesday, D-day, 6 June 1944, Operation Overlord is now in effect.

At H-hour plus 30 minutes the second assault wave consisting of LCI's (Landing Craft Infantry) and LCVP's (Landing Craft Vehicle,Personnel) of which my battalion was a part of hit the beach sustaining numerous casualties. The defensive fire from the pillboxes and trenches of the German units on the bluffs overlooking the invasion area have cut down the first units hitting the beach dune line and also on the landing craft in the water. The beach is strewn with the dead and dying. It is not until late afternoon that the beachead is established, but by midnight 3000 young Americans had given their youth, their aspirations and their lives .

On Friday , 9 June 1944, by word of mouth information filtered down that a Sabbath service would be held adjacent to a blown out German bunker and preparation was made to meet at the designated area. There were men from various separate units including some Navy personnel who were responsible for signal communication on the beach. The chaplain in charge of the service introduced himself and said he was from Brooklyn, New York and passed out some small sedorim and holy scripture of the Old Testament. He had brought along some wine and bread and the kiddish service was complete and enjoyable. I cannot remember the full text of his sermon, but it was one of faith and support of one another during chaos and adversity.

When the service was over we sang Adon Olom and returned to our respective units. The Chaplain who volunteered for this service was not Jewish, due to the unavailability of a Rabbi, but a Catholic priest who had been brought up in the midst of an ethnic population on New York's lower East side. This was truly a Mitzpha on his part and an introduction to Judaism on D- day, plus 3.

In conclusion there is an epilogue:

We continue to grow old, but those we left behind in Normandy will never grow old. We will always remember them as only being young. May the memory of their short life on this earth be a blessing forever.....Shalom.

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