By: Rabbi Shmuel Isaac Popack
Originally Published by N'Shei Chabad Newsletter - February 2005
It happened in the early 1940's, during World War II. The United States was at war in Europe. In those days there was a military draft, and young men approaching the age of 18 had to present themselves to serve in the US army. There were exceptions, such as for those who had medical issues and handicaps making them unfit to serve, as well as deferments for those civilians who served the nation in other indispensable ways. One such deferment was for clergymen and rabbinical seminary students, including Yeshiva students, who were needed to serve the present and future civilian population of the United States as spiritual leaders.
In Williamsburg, where the bulk of the frum community lived, there was hardly a boy that wasn't draft deferred. The draft board discovered that the illustrious Hecht family had five boys in Yeshiva and that they were all draft deferred. The authorities pounced on Lubavitch, insisting that they should send at least one Hecht boy to the army. Shlomo Zalman Hecht (later to be a great Rabbi in Chicago and an inimitable orator), the oldest Hecht, was the one they wanted. They demanded that he be inducted into the army, Of course he fought it and the case went to court. The case lasted over a year, at which time the court concluded that he did have to serve in the army. He was sent to the army's induction center where he was examined and found to be infit for the army due to physical reasons.
Now the local draft board was extremely upset. They had spent thusands of dollars for lawyers and spent more than a year in vain it turned out, so they now decided to make some major changes. All the boys who had been issued a 4D (seminarian) "deferred" classification, were now all reclassified to 1A, "eligible to be drafted." Before appealing or even discussing the reclassification, one would first have to appear for an examination. Only if you were found to be fit did you then have the right to discuss if being placed in 1A was correct or whether you could revert to the 4D classification. After the government had spent over $200,000 to fight the case against Shlomo Zalman Hecht, they realized that it was not practical to fight or even discuss a case if they didn't even know whether the draftee could later be induced. They therefore issued a decree that all boys must appear for examination, and only if they were found fit, could they appeal the case.
Of course the Rebbe (the Frierdiker Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok, נ"ע) was against this. His bochurim were not to be drafted. We understood that we were already inducted in the army, Hashem's army. Our mission -to learn Torah and to educate and inspire others to be committed to Torah- was as important as the war effort in Europe. In a sense it was even more important. The war dealt with the enemies of peace by vanquishing them (but at the great cost of the chaos and destruction which is part of war); Torah, on the other hand, instills peace from On High, without having to resort to war at all. And besides, the U.S. law recognized the vital role of the clergy, which is why the law granted them deferment. What the local draft board was doing was not in accord with the intent of the law.
Lo and behold the day came when five of us bochurim learning in 770 received draft notices. We were ordered to appear the following Wednesday at 9:00 A.M. at the armory at 47th St. and Lexington Ave., where we were to be examined for induction.
Understandably, the bochurim in yeshiva that were slated for induction didn't go home that Tuesday night. We sat around all night; some of us learned, some of us just talked. As the night became morning, we decided to take a walk in Prospect Park. (The streets were much safer in those days.) As we walked, one fellow offered, "I know the solution to the problem; it is in cigars, and I have a box of cigars. Somebody told me that if you smoke a cigar your blood pressure goes up. Let's all smoke cigars and we'll fail the exam!" (We did it... it didn't help; actually it only helped those who had low blood pressure to raise it to normal.) With sunrise, we headed to 770 to daven b'hashkomoh. We davened with a minyan, then went downstairs (where there used to be a bar which had been converted into a kitchen) and we had breakfast. It was a little after 8:00 A.M. that we all marched out of 770 through the center door and into the subway.
Unbeknownst to us, the Rebbe had sat down by the bay window of his room on the second floor, situated above the main entry door of 770, and had watched us going out to the train. He started to say Tehillim.
We arrived at the armory to be examined. We all passed our physical exams. But after our physical exams we had to go for psychological evaluations. There were two examiners in charge, one from the Navy, an Admiral and a non-Jew, and the other a Colonel in the U.S. Army, a Jewish man who had previously studied at Yeshiva Yitzchak Elchonon (now YU). Each of us was called up by the Jewish examiner, who, recognizing who we were, indicated on each of our records that we were not psychologically fit to serve in the united States Army. By this time it was already close to noon.
From there we were all brought into a large room where two lines of people waited. One line was designated for those who were accepted into the army and the other one was for the rejects. Of course, we all stood in the line for the rejects, ready to be processed out. While we waited there, the doors opened and a lot of high brass from the various military services walked in to review the prospective candidates for the armed services. They observed the five of us and asked "What's with these guys on the second line?" They were told that it was for the rejects. Looking us over they said, "There's one there that looks normal!" - And that person was me (because, unlike the others I did not have a beard yet). The commander conducting the tour said, "Well, it indicates here that he should be exempt but if you have any doubts he can be sent back for re-examination." And that is exactly what they did!
As the other bochurim were processed out, each of them took out a nickel, quickly went to a public phone and called 770 to notify the Rebbe that they were free. They also notified the Rebbe that I was still in limbo. (I guess they must have had an extra nickel of their own for the phone call because the government only gave us 10 cents, 5 cents for the ride to the New York Armory and 5 cents for the ride back.)
Unfortunately for me, when I went back for the re-exam, the Jewish fellow, the colonel, had gone out to lunch. The Admiral stood in his place now, and there was one candidate waiting before me. That interview took place behind a partitioned cubicle and it was impossible not to overhear their conversation. As the Admiral interviewed the young man, I heard him say that he was from the same city that the Admiral came from, some 20 years before. They started to talk about their little city in Iowa, who the teachers in the local high school were, who is still there and who is not there and about the other residents in town. They carried on the conversation for almost half an hour. When they finished, he said to his candidate, "I'll do you a favor and recommend you for any part of the service you prefer. You're perfectly qualified for the Army, Navy, Marines or Air Force; take your choice." Happily, the fellow made some choice and went off to the final induction center. Sitting there for a half hour in an unheated armory without my friends and listening to Life in Iowa had exhausted me, but he was calling my name, so I stood up and went in.
Just then the door opened and the Colonel returned from his lunch break. His face as he entered was normal, but as soon as he saw me and realized what had happened, it turned red with fury. He asked the Admiral angrily, "They sent him back after I indicated that he wasn't fit? Are they questioning my authority?" He was so insulted and enraged that he took charge of the situation by telling the Admiral, "I'll take care of this one. I had a wonderful lunch at the new eatery around the corner. Now you go ahead and have lunch."
"But I only have this one more candidate; it's okay, I'll finish up," the Admiral protested.
"No, don't worry, I'll take care of him," the Jewish Colonel insisted.
So the Admiral went out for lunch and I was back with the Jewish fellow. He asked me what Gemora I was learning and a few other such things, indicating that he was very knowledgeable. Then he wrote down on my card: "This candidate is absolutely unfit psychologically." When I went to the final induction section I got back on the reject line and they immediately discharged me. I then made my own phone call to 770, more than a half hour after the other boys had called.
I knew of nothing, except that I had notified the Rebbe that I too, was excused. It took another 40 minutes until I arrived at 770 to find out the rest of the story. When I opened the door the entire class stood up and greeted me at the dooor. At my surprised look, they said, "Don't you know what happened?" (How could I have known what was going on here in Brooklyn, while I was at the armory in Manhattan?)
They quickly filled me in: "Rebbetzin Chana Gourary [the Rebbe's daughter who attended to the Rebbe's health] came down several times and asked, "What's the situation with the boys? Did they call yet? The Rebbe wants to know."
It seems that when we had left that morning at 8:00 A.M. the Rebbe had watched us from the window as we entered the subway, and then had opened up a Tehillim and started to daven for us. He refused to stop. He refused to eat anything, which was detrimental to thwe Rebbe's frail health, until heheard that the last boy was free. "And the last boy was you!" they exclaimed.
Can you imagine, 12:00 noon came, and all the boys were free. The Rebbe surely prevailed. For me, unbearded as yet, hence the one who "looked normal," the Rebbe sat and said Tehillim for another half hour, so I too would be freed.
We saw many miracles at that time. One of them in particular: Rabbi Berel Levy a"h, who later was to establish the O.K. laboratories (the respected Kosher Hashgocha organization), went through the induction process a few weeks before us. In those days we wore Tzitzis with a slit in the front. Just in case it wasn't the correct shiur when the slit was opened, we sewed a button on top and we then buttoned it closed. Berel was very frum, and when he was examined he refused to remove his Tzitzis. When they took the x-ray, the button appeared as a lesion on the lungs, which they diagnosed as tuberculosis. He was granted a medical deferment.
This is a drop in the bucket of all the nissim that we saw at that time.
Edited by Chana T. Piekarsky, NY. daughter. transcribed from the tape by Chanie Raskin, VT. granddaughter. Special thanks to Rabbi Gershon Schusterman. CA. who heard this story directly from Rabbi Shmuel Isaac Popack many years ago.
