Arthur Gewirtz with his sister Chana in 1948
On the occasion of Arthur Gewirtz’s 90th birthday, a videotape was made of his testimonial regarding his service with Machal and the Palmach on behalf of the War of Independence. He also addressed his experience in the Yom Kippur War, as well as his family’s service in Israel. The testimonial is available on a DVD in his family’s possession. The transcript of his testimony is attached.
INTRODUCTION
I was born in 1925 and had a little experience with the great depression. My life had been spent in an orthodox, close, extended family environment with very structured and protected immediate surroundings in the Lower East Side, New York City.
MACHAL: VOLUNTEERING
In 1948, war had broken out in Israel. Israel declared itself an independent state. The Arabs invaded. My parents were very concerned about my younger sister, Chana, who was living there and would not come home on her own. They wanted me to bring my sister home. The Washington, D.C. officials did not permit American citizens to travel to Israel during the period of unrest.
A group was formed across the United States called “Machal,” It was disguised in English as “Land and Labor for Israel,” so they could tell the government in the U.S. that this was a recruiting group for jobs in Israel, not for joining the Israeli army. It was shortly after U.S. soldiers were coming back from WWII, and many soldiers had weapons. Israel was stock-piling as many weapons as it could and recruiting as fast as it could.
My experience with Machal began when I enlisted with a group that was recruiting volunteers for the Israeli army. I wanted to go with the group rather than go alone. It gave me cover and it also paid my expenses. When I went, there were very few people from the Lower East Side that went – in the early part of the war. I had known a good friend of the family by the name of Rabinowitz, who played ball with my brother, Tulie. He got on a boat with other recruits and that boat was stopped by the British Navy. All those recruits had to stay in Lebanon for the rest of the Israeli war and were returned to the U.S. afterward.
I boarded the Marine Marlin, a very slow cargo boat sailing from Manhattan to Marseilles. Twenty or so of us had clandestinely volunteered to join the Haganah.. Each of us had been recruited separately and met for the first time at dinner after the ship set sail.
VOYAGE I
More than a few of us could not take the rolling of the ship and were happy to join a 24-hour poker game that was quickly organized, and went on non-stop for six or seven days, with players dropping in and out. I was lucky and came out ahead.
Most ship talk amongst fellows on adventures is trash and boasting. But I made friends quickly with a fellow named Sam Lipsky. We talked in a more serious manner about relationships with girls, women, jobs, Jewishness, and what got us on this adventure to the faraway place called Palestine, newly called Israel.
Sam and I played in the game for more hours than the others. Sam, about seven or more years older, played a far better game than I. He concentrated on the cards and played the hands well. We took some toilet and eating breaks together and talked about downtown NYC. We knew the same neighborhoods and streets, but our lives had been developed in different environments, different worlds, different universes.
I, initially, was impressed that he appeared to be one of the calmest, self-confident persons in the group, someone who had superb skills that were needed by the Haganah and had the right kind of stuff and experience that could/would be immediately put to use. I had some of the above and was glad to have a friend whose skills would make a real contribution to what we had signed up for. He seemed pleased with my company and I always thought it was less because of who and what I was, but because I knew the young lady he was very much taken with.
TRAINING
We landed in France – the port of Marseille – and were transported by train to a wooded area in a town called Trets. There was a transit camp named St. Jerome where we were given two weeks training on how to load, shoot, and clean Czech rifles. Needless to say, I would have killed someone on my side if I ever was asked to fire the gun. We proceeded to Le Havre, picked up about 100 holocaust camp survivors, and set sail for Palestine. The name of the ship was the Marie Annik and it was an Italian fishing trawler. There were 160 people on board of whom 25 were in the group of American and Canadian volunteers which included both Sam and myself.
Artie (Arthur Gewirtz) (right) & Sam Lipsky (left) during training in France,
prior to boarding ship Marie Annik, 1948
VOYAGE II
The nautical skills that Sam developed in the U.S. Merchant Marines were heavily utilized in the second part of our journey to Israel. The Italian crew got drunk the first day out and Sam was asked to pilot the ship to somewhere off the coast of Tel Aviv. We had to elude the British blockade who were sending all would-be immigrants, invaders, or volunteers to Cyprus and Lebanon. Sam taught me how to keep the wheel on course in the Mediterranean Sea, which I did for a few hours over two days. It was a thrill, and it raised my status (one inch) in the group.
Eluding the British navy, our boat crash-landed off the Tel Aviv beach. We beached the ship somewhere near Netanya and walked a few steps in the water to the shore. We felt kind of lucky. We were met by a bunch of buses that took us to different places. We parted company immediately after that. Sam went to Haifa to assist the new navy unit, and I went first to a kibbutz.
TIME TO BREATHE
I was free to roam the country on my own. I received small stipends from an American group but never had enough money for minimal expenses.
On my journey, I had carried five radios given to me by folks who asked me to deliver them to relatives. Two were confiscated by the French authorities, two I sold to fellow volunteers, and one I eventually gave to my father’s brother, Pinchas, who was selling ice cream in the port of Haifa. He had gotten there several years before. He and his wife survived being in a concentration camp. They had sent their children to Israel ten years earlier – two daughters and a son. After WWII, Pinchas and his wife had been held in a refugee camp in Italy and were ultimately allowed to migrate to Israel. The boat reached the Port of Haifa, but they were intercepted by the British Navy, and were told they didn’t have proper passports nor permission to land. As long as the British were in control of the government, they weren’t going to let them enter Israel, although they could go to Lebanon or to Turkey. The Haganah suggested to the people on board to jump off the ship. As a result of the jump, several people died, including Pinchas’ wife. Pinchas made it into Israel alive.
For some time, I couldn’t see my sister, Chana, because Jerusalem was surrounded by Arabs. I had saved a small salami throughout my training in France, to bring to her in besieged Jerusalem. Finally, one Shabbat we sat down to a fleishige meal with a group of friends—each with a paper-thin slice of salami on his plate. I really had many offers for that kosher salami, and for 6 weeks, it never left my side.
JOINING THE PALMACH
The next piece of my journey is that I stayed in Tel Aviv and then volunteered to work on a kibbutz, called Ayn Arratzim. When the first truce with the Arabs ended and war started up again, I volunteered to join the Palmach. There was a unit in Tel Aviv called Gedud Taysha, the 9th Battalion of Jeeps. and I stayed with them for a period of time, got minimum training, and was assigned to the Jeep Brigade. I was a jeep driver. The jeep seated three people: a gunner, someone seated along side of me, and I was the main driver.
CAPTURING BE’ER SHEVA
Our group was assigned to go to the Negev, to capture Be’er Sheva. Mine was the sixth, seventh, or eighth jeep. We went from Tel Aviv to the outskirts of Be’er Sheva.
An interesting story that happened to me, was we stopped halfway down – there were maybe twenty jeeps and some other vehicles with soldiers. We were asked to stop and were told in Hebrew, which I did not understand, “There are land mines here. And we need people with some training to search for the land mines before we go further.” Not having any such training, it was better for everybody that I not go looking for the mines, but – and this is true – as true as can be – I did have two boxes of Hershey bars, and I distributed the Hershey bars to the people who were sitting in their jeeps. When the signal came, we got back in our jeeps, and drove to the outskirts of Be’er Sheva, which was nothing more than a police station, a very small village, that had soldiers in it.
I’m pretty certain – I wouldn’t swear to it – or maybe I would – that the officer in charge of that police station was a man called Colonel Nasser, who later became the ruler of Egypt. King Farouk was still on the throne. (Many years later, there was a coup d’etat and Nasser became the ruler.)
We were parked – a line of jeeps – outside, late at night. I would say it was two or three miles outside of Be’er Sheva. Arabs were firing from their village into our camp. And there was some firing from our camp into the village. We were asked to dig foxholes. I chose not to dig a foxhole, and just climbed under my vehicle with the key to the jeep, so nobody was going to drive that jeep or drive over me.
The next morning, we were told we were going to raid Be’er Sheva. Before we started, the Egyptians shot towards our vehicles – one guy caught a bullet in his throat and died on the spot. So, I saw somebody who was shot and died. And eventually they buried him in a day or two on the outskirts of Be’er Sheva.
We were told to get ready, and I asked, “Are the orders going to be given in Hebrew or in English?” And they said, “In Hebrew.” I said, “I can’t go because I’ll get everybody killed.” And they let me stay behind with my jeep. So, I didn’t actually make the raid. The first jeep that did make the raid turned around and came back and said all the Egyptians had fled. I took part in the “Battle of Be’er Sheva” on October 20-21, 1948, but for me there was no fighting – absolutely, no fighting for the town of Be’er Sheva. We just came in.
Everybody took over a house that had a lot of Halvah in barrels out front, a lot of chickens out front, but houses from which people had fled, and we saw some of their cooking and some of their utensils.
That’s my first war story.
FINAL MISSION IN THE PALMACH
I remained in the Palmach for about two to three weeks. The second truce, Hafugah, was declared two or three weeks later. Before that, I was asked by an officer to drive him to where the front was, and I did. Then he said, “Now go back to Be’er Sheva.” I started out, and came to a crossroads, and I didn’t know whether to go left or right. So, I stayed there. and figured if I drive and get caught by the Arabs they’d kill me, but if I stayed, I’d become a prisoner and wouldn’t get killed. That was a foolish thought, because they killed their prisoners, but that was my thinking. Fortunately, the first jeep to arrive, the first vehicle, was an Israeli, so I got back to my unit safe and sound.
So, I never fired a gun, I never threw a rocket, but I was there with Palmach when Israel took its first census. And I’m not sure if I made up the Hebrew name … My Yiddish name is Asher Alter ben Menachem Mendel … and I think I gave my name as Aryeah, which is close to Artie, Aryeah Gibor, Gibor being close to my last name, Gewirtz. I might have given it as Geviri, which is “rich,” but Gibor sounded better. And so, I may be registered as Aryeah Gibor or I may be registered as Arthur Gewirtz.
On the other hand, my sister Chana Aran, née Gewirtz, who had been studying in a high school in Bayit-Ve’gan before I arrived, was recruited by the Haganah. Once she was formally accepted, she had occasion to do “shmirah” (guard duty) two or three nights a week. Chana was given a rifle and on occasion, actually shot at what she thought were Arab soldiers who were on the other side of Bayit-Ve’gan, down the hill. (And I’m sorry, I just don’t remember what the section was called.) So, my sister Chana used a rifle and shot at people. I never did.
AFTER MY SERVICE
Most of the six months I was in Israel was one minor adventure after another, and after Chanukah I went home with my sister. As I mentioned before, this had been my parent’s sole mission for me, and they sent the fare for this purpose.
In order to return, I needed my passport, of course. But when my Machal group had entered Israel, the Israeli government took everybody’s passports, so I didn’t have one all the time I was in Israel. The only way I could get out of the country was to appeal to the American government to get my passport from the Israelis. Though they were using everybody’s passports to bring in folks from Europe (refugees) who needed passports, I eventually returned to the U.S.
EPILOGUE
When Chana and I came back at the end of 1948, she married a young man (Meir Aran) who had a Rabbinic degree. They both moved to Israel a year later. My sister is still alive. Meir became a lawyer and worked for the government. His job was working with the committee that tried to reconcile the British unwritten constitution and Jewish laws. He worked for over forty years and the committee never succeeded. And to this day, Israel doesn’t have a formal constitution. I believe Meir also served as a reserve in the 6-Day War.
My parents, three other sisters, and one brother eventually made Aliyah. My parents lived there for several years. One sister, Gladys, married the District Attorney of Jerusalem, Ezra Hedaya, who then became one of the chief judges. They lived there for over thirty-some years, and they have children who live there. Two other sisters have families there. Chana’s off-spring, including children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, number at least 100. One of my brothers who lives in New York has a son, four grandchildren and great-grandchildren living outside of Jerusalem. I chose to live in America. I moved to a religious community named Borough Park, in Brooklyn, New York.
I also “participated” in the Yom Kippur war in 1973. I went to Israel, ostensibly, to visit family. My uncle, Jack – who had been in Palestine in WWI serving with the Jewish Brigade under General Allenby, which conquered Palestine from the Turks – was now living there. The vehicles that people had were commandeered by the Israeli government. He did not want his vehicle commandeered. And they said, “If you don’t want it then you have to drive where we tell you to. – You have to help us.” My “participation” in the Yom Kippur war was to drive his vehicle. My uncle and I drove Russian Jews who were coming in from Russia, to their homes. The Israeli government had built apartment houses in different parts of Israel. And my uncle and I would take ten to twelve Russians in his van from the airport to their homes. We made two or three trips. That was the extent of my participation in the Yom Kippur war – not part of the army, a part of the civilian force doing civilian work.
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BIOGRAPHY
Upon returning to the U.S., Arthur Gewirtz received a Bachelor’s Degree in Social Work from Brooklyn College, and he earned a Master’s Degree in Social Work from Columbia University. His thesis for his Master’s Degree, which was published, is entitled “Why Parents Send Their Children To A Jewish Community Center”.
Arthur Gewirtz initially worked at Jewish Community Centers, and later went on to serve for more than 30 years as the Executive Director of the Crime Prevention Association in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Crime Prevention Association, a social service agency, operated Day Care Centers, Boys and Girls Clubs, Senior Citizen Programs, Youth Service Programs, Get Set Centers, and other social service programs.
He also served in small communities as a Rabbi during High Holidays for several years, and frequently volunteered at synagogues.
Arthur Gewirtz worked every day for the betterment of the world, fighting for humanity and for goodness, and helped to establish the State of Israel.
Source: Laurence Gewirtz (Arthur’s son)