As Passover approaches, when there is renewed antisemitism and too much hatred in this world, even from the president of our own country, we want to remember the Passover of 1943. On April 19 the revolt began against the Nazis who had come into the Warsaw Ghetto to deport the Jews who remained. On one side was the tremendous power of the German army. On the other side was the remnant of Warsaw’s starving Jews — 40,000 civilians led by several hundred poorly armed young men and women. They fought back for six weeks. They knew that it was an unequal struggle, that the odds were too great. But they hoped against hope and kept on fighting. Although the Germans were certain that not one Jew would escape from the ghetto, several hundred succeeded in making their way to join the resistance in the Polish forests.

And on that same day — April 19, 1943 — Passover was being celebrated halfway around the world in another part of the same struggle. These words were written by my dad, Dr. Henry A. Davidson, “somewhere in Australia” on that day:

In this lonely outpost of democracy, the Jewish soldiers of this remote American garrison celebrated the first night of Passover by holding the traditional seder. The local newspaper characterized the event as an “Historic Occasion”, for it was the first seder ever held in this corner of Australia. American soldiers of Jewish faith flocked to the selected town. They walked in on their G.I. shoes, or they bumped in on jeeps or Army trucks, or rode in on the tiny antiquated railway cars that ride the rails of rural Australia. By seven p.m. they had gathered at the door of the restaurant in such numbers that a bewildered proprietor must have wondered what strange hunger prompted so many men to come such distances. More than 200 young American Jews wearing the uniform of the Army of Democracy crowded into the hall. Forty Australian-Jewish soldiers were there too, underlining the closeness of the bonds between the two nations. All four of the Protestant chaplains of the area came. Indeed it was the Chief Protestant Chaplain of the area who labored indefatigably to make the seder a success, who secured the restaurant, organized the function, disseminated the information. The nearest Jewish Army Chaplain was several hundred miles away, presiding at another seder in another Australian post of the American army.

Spiritual leader of the seder was Private Abraham Shindler of Boston, Mass. Toastmaster of the occasion was Bobby Gilbert, the screen and radio star who had been touring Australia in a USO show, and who, in the course of his duty, had developed a tropical illness that necessitated his remaining in an American Army hospital. (Mr. Gilbert’s troupe was the first USO show to entertain troops under fire.) He introduced the speakers and flavored each introduction with the easy drollery that has made his name a synonym for top-notch humor in cinema and radio circles.A tangible hush stilled the noisy good-natured crowd, as Private Shindler lit the twin candles and lifted the Passover wine to inaugurate one of the oldest of ceremonies in one of the newest of nations. The observance then proceeded smoothly in the tradition-worn groove: it was all there, the parsley and the bitter herbs, the token of paschal lamb and the Passover wine.

Speakers included the four Protestant chaplains–Chaplains Nysewander, Miller, Johnson, and Mahas. Representative Australian-Jewish soldiers spoke. The inevitable Yiddish stories were told in the “mother tongue” by Lieutenant Theodore Miller of the Engineers, who kept the audience in hysterics for ten minutes: except the chaplains, waitresses, and proprietor of the restaurant, who listened in bewildered silence to the rich-flavored witticisms of Lieutenant Miller. Principal speaker was Captain Henry A. Davidson, who spoke on the responsibility of the American Jew in the World War.

The sea of military uniforms was broken by three islands of civilian clothing, representing two men and a woman: the entire Jewish civilian population of the town. They were honored guests of the military of the two allied nations. Said one of these Australian Jews: “This is the first seder I have attended in 30 years. Until now I had been worried about the continuity of our people. With only three of us within hundreds of miles, and with stories of the virtual wiping out of Jewry in Central Europe, I had begun to believe that perhaps our stock was dying out. And now suddenly I see several hundred young, vigorous American Jews. And now I know that our people are still carrying on. And this splendid sight touches me and warms my heart, for it is a token that come what may to you or me, our people will go on forever.”

Categories: Life