2018--A Year of Books in Groups of Three

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Jill Lepore, author of These Truths, my favorite book of 2018

When I looked at the list of books I read in 2018, I realized that the books fell into groups of three:

·      Three books by the historian of The Holocaust, Eastern Europe and Fascism, Timothy Snyder.

·      Three detective novels by the delightful mystery writer Alison Joseph.

·      I re-read three books by C.S. Lewis.

·      In addition to threes by author, there were threes by type:  I read three science books, three books with French text, and, including books I am currently reading, three books with Russian text and three with Hebrew text, just one with Ancient Greek text.

·      I read three philosophy books: two by Hannah Arendt, one by Mark Belaguer.

·      Among the seven history books I read were three about Israel: one about the Yom Kippur War, one about the Battle for Jerusalem in 1948, and one chronicling the history of the Hebrew language.

·      Another three history books were about America. I finally read Anti-Intellectualism in America by Richard Hofstadter, at the same time I was reading and annotated Constitution of the US, and my favorite book of the year These Truths by Jill Lepore—a one-volume, nearly-one-thousand-page history of the United States.

·      The dozen fiction books I read include the three by Alison Joseph; three authors I have read for the first time: Philip Roth, Michael Chabon, and Albert Camus; three books by authors of whom I have read nearly everything the have written: Kazuo Ishiguro, Mark Helprin and George Orwell; and I finally read Dune by Frank Herbert.

·      Since everything can’t go in threes, I read one art book, a biography of U.S. Grant, Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot, two self-help books and a dull memoir.

·      This year there were no books I loathed, as happened last year, but I did have the experience for the first time of not really liking a book by Kazuo Ishiguro. This year I read Unconsoled. I had read all of his other books and stories and was enthralled. But Unconsoled left me flat. I read it to the end, hoping the magic would be there, but it was not. On the other hand, the book I read by Mark Helprin “Paris in the Present Tense” is now my favorite among all of his books and stories.

In future blog posts, I will write in more detail about my groups of three.  

Since I am getting more and more history and analysis from podcasts, I am also going to write a post about this method of information delivery along with books.

Life as a Tank Commander in Cold War Germany--On a Podcast

Me in 1977 in Germany on top of my tank

Today the second of two episodes of the Cold War History Podcast went live with Ian Sanders, the Host, and I talking about life in Cold War West Germany when I was a tank commander in the US Army.

It was a lot of fun to remember training for war and enjoying the beautiful country.  Part of my decision to leave the Army and become a writer began with writing home about how beautiful Germany is and the excitement of leading a tank crew training to defend that country against Soviet invasion.

Click here for a link to the episode.

The Resignation of General James Mattis is Good, But Not Enough

Generaloberst Ludwig Beck

Mattis's resignation is good, but not enough. It was not enough in Germany in 1938:

Ludwig August Theodor Beck (29 June 1880 – 21 July 1944) was a German general and Chief of the German General Staff during the early years of the Nazi regime in Germany before World War II. Ludwig Beck was never a member of the Nazi Party, though in the early 1930s he supported Adolf Hitler's forceful denunciation of the Versailles Treaty and belief in the need for Germany to rearm. Beck had grave misgivings regarding the Nazi demand that all German officers swear an oath of fealty to the person of Hitler in 1934, though he believed that Germany needed strong government and that Hitler could successfully provide this so long as he was influenced by traditional elements within the military rather than the SA and SS.

In serving as Chief of Staff of the German Army between 1935 and 1938, Beck became increasingly disillusioned, standing in opposition to the increasing totalitarianism of the Nazi regime and Hitler's aggressive foreign policy. It was due to public foreign policy disagreements with Hitler that Beck resigned as Chief of Staff in August 1938. From this point, Beck came to believe that Hitler could not be influenced for good, and that both Hitler and the Nazi party needed to be removed from government. He became a major leader within the conspiracy against Hitler, and would have been regent ("Reichsverweser") had the 20 July plot succeeded, but when the plot failed, Beck was arrested. Reportedly he made an unsuccessful attempt at suicide, and was then shot dead.

Army Christmas: 1978 and 2008

A half-second Google search showed me 

hundreds of Army Christmas Trees. 

Forty years ago, I was about to celebrate my third Christmas in West Germany.  The following year, just before Christmas, I would leave the active duty Army. For most of the following three decades I was a civilian with a beard who served almost seven years on active duty, then left to get a "real job."

Christmas in Cold War West Germany was an odd mixture of homesickness and being in the place where the Christmas tree, and Saint Nicholas, and wreaths and ornaments came from.  Christmas in Germany is deeply traditional and beautiful.  And "Stillen Nacht" sung by a German Choir is the best Christmas Carol I ever heard.

Ten years ago, I was about celebrate Christmas with my family. The year before, in 2007, I had re-enlisted in the Army National Guard. In January, I would be going to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, for pre-deployment training, then to Iraq until 2010.

We had the same complicated Christmas that a yours, mine, and ours family has every year with in-laws, out-laws and others sharing Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and the days before and after.  But in 2008, I knew the next Christmas would be in Iraq.

Christmas far from home or getting ready to deploy is sad in some ways, but it is also more vivid.  And it makes the next Christmas at home more intense, especially the complicated holidays my family celebrates in four or more states across several days.

And this year I am volunteering overnight at a homeless shelter Christmas Eve through Christmas morning with my Synagogue, just to make the season even more merry and complicated.

Happy Whatever You Celebrate or Already Celebrated!!!

To compliment the Army Christmas Tree, 

I found an Israeli Defense Forces Menorah.

Back at Jew: Changing My Dog tags Back After Almost 50 Years

My first and current dog tags. Bottom line is JEWISH.

In February 1972, I got my first set of dog tags at Basic Training.  Most people never change their dog tags.  The information on them: 

Name,

Service Number,

Blood Type,

Religion

This information does not change for most people. In fact, most soldiers could go to their grave with their original set of dog tags around their neck, whether they die on the battlefield at 19 or they die reliving one last memory at 99.

I am on my fourth set of dog tags.

In 1972, in addition to my name, service number and blood type, the two stamped metal tags identified me as Jewish.  At the time, I knew I was Jewish in some sense, not so much in others.

I was born in Beth Israel Hospital in Boston, the son of a Jewish veteran of World War II. He was the fourth of six sons of Hyman and Esther Gussman. They escaped the pogroms in Odessa, Russia, in 1900 and came to America.  My mother was not Jewish. So to some Jews, I’m not Jewish—a Jewish mother makes a Jew.

To most gentiles, I’m definitely a Jew. I was Jewish enough to get called a Kike once in a while as a kid and to get beaten up in the fifth grade by some Catholic boys who told me I killed Jesus.  I didn’t remember killing Jesus, but they insisted with their fists. 

At age 13, I had a Bar Mitzvah, but the six months before the ceremony and the day of the ceremony were the only times I was in the Synagogue in my very secular life.

By the time I was 18 and on the way to basic training, I was vaguely agnostic.  I knew nothing of the Holocaust at the time, my family did not talk about it, so I did not realize I was Jewish enough to be sent to Auschwitz. For that I needed only one Jewish grandparent. I had two. As a matter of fact, I had no idea I could had the “Right of Return” to Israel.  If you are Jewish enough for a Nazi to kill you, you are Jewish enough for Israel to accept you.

The next year I thought about faith for the first time as I recovered from a missile explosion that left me blind and with other injuries.  I believed in God before I got my sight back. I started going to a Baptist Church in Utah near the base where I was stationed.  In 1974, my sight restored, I left the Air Force. 

In 1975, I decided to re-enlist in the Army. I got new dog tags.  All the information was the same except the last line said Christian. 

I kept those dog tags until 1984 when I got out, thinking I was done with the military.

Then in 2007, I re-enlisted. I got new dog tags. This time the last line of my dog tags said Presbyterian.  Not that the difference mattered much.  Dog tags are used to identify your body if you are dead, or to know what kind of blood you need or which chaplain should be called to your bedside if you are unable to talk. At the time of my enlistment I was a member of a Presbyterian Church, so that was the “bottom line” of my dog tags.

In 2013, I re-enlisted again. This time, I was going to deploy to Afghanistan with an Infantry Brigade. The deployment was cancelled. In 2014, after the deployment to Afghanistan was cancelled, I started planning a bicycle trip across Russia.  The trip was supposed to be a ride to memorialize my grandfather’s nine-month trek north from Odessa to Finland to escape the Tsar’s Army.

I wore the Presbyterian dog tags until I got out for the last time in May of 2016.  Later that year, Trump got elected President and put white nationalist Steve Bannon in the White House. Racism and anti-Semitism suddenly had a Presidential Seal, so I switched the trip to visiting Holocaust sites and memorials.

The Star of David worn by German Jews under the Nazis

I started feeling Jewish.  And I was feeling betrayed. The country I defended, that I fought for elected an open racist, proud racist. After an entire life of being a soldier and never protesting, I started protesting every week.

The next summer, in 2017, I rode a bicycle from Belgrade, Serbia, to Lviv, Ukraine, visiting Holocaust sites and memorials.  Then I went to Germany, France and Israel, visiting more Concentration Camps and Holocaust Memorials. 

Nazis and racists with rebel flags 

marching together in Charlottesville, Va.

I came back home in July. In August, Nazis marched in Charlottesville, chanting “Blood and Soil” at night, then murdering and maiming the next day.  In the following week, the U.S. President was unable to condemn Nazis.   

After Charlottesville, I was adrift spiritually.  In December of 2017, I started attending a local Synagogue.  Here is the story of how I got to the Synagogue.

This year, I made more changes in my life. I started doing Yoga; I meditate; I go to weekly prayer and Torah Study at the Synagogue, most recently I started keeping a thankfulness journal along with meditation.

In July, I rode to Boston to attend a picnic. I started listening to a podcast about the founding of Israel. In July, I got a new set of dog tags. They are easy to buy on line. Like my first set of dog tags, the dog tags I wear now say JEWISH (Dog tags are stamped in ALL CAPS).

After the shooting in Pittsburgh, I followed news reports closely until I heard why the gunman attacked the Synagogue.  The shooting was in the morning. By 3pm I knew in the words of the murderer why he did it. He believed the lie Trump was telling about the caravan being an invasion force. Trump’s lie led the angry racist in Pittsburgh to commit murder.

And yet, that same evening and every day after until the election, Trump kept telling the same lie at his Hillbilly Nuremberg rallies.

My dog tags reflect something of who I was and am, but dog tags have no nuance.  The 1972 dog tags were an answer to a question by a supply clerk:  “Religion?” They did not reflect my discomfort with being Jewish and how happy I was to just be another soldier.

My current dog tags are still just stamped metal. They simply hang on a chain. They look the same as in the 1970s, but now they I want to be identified with others like me: Jews who could be attacked at any time for who we are and what we believe.

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Podcast on the Cold War Talks Tanks

My M60A1 "Patton" tank in the Colorado desert in 1976. 

Today I was the guest on "Cold War Conversations History Podcast," a podcast produced in the United Kingdom and available on iTunes or through their web page.

The podcast covers life in East Germany, life in divided Berlin, East German soccer, the SR71 spy plane, the threat of nuclear war, and even owning a Cold War submarine.

I found out about the podcast from Bob Mares who administers the "Cold War Veterans, Weapons, and Equipment" group on Facebook.

In this episode we talk about tanks and my best day in the Army, when I fired Distinguished in annual tank gunnery at Fort Carson, Colorado, in 1976.  In a month I will be on again talking about life as a tank commander in Cold War West Germany.

Here's the link to the podcast.

A Very American Path in a Crisis: "You Should See A Rabbi / My Rabbi"

Congregation Shaarai Shomayim where 

Jack Paskoff is the Rabbi

In October of last year I had a day that could only happen in America.  In the morning, I went to a counseling session at the Statewide Adoption Network, the people who helped us adopt our sons.  I had been seeing a counselor to help me deal with problems my older son was having, and to help me deal with the problems I had dealing with my older son. 

At the end of the session, the counselor, who is an Asian-American from India, asked me about the bicycle trip I took across Eastern Europe in June and July. She knew I was seeing Holocaust sites and memorials.  I told her the trip was wonderful, sometimes very emotional, but I expected that. One of the days was in Auschwitz-Birkenau.

But after the trip I came home to Nazis marching in the streets in America yelling, “Jews will not replace us.”  I told her how that affected me.  She knew my father was Jewish and I grew up only nominally Jewish.  At the end of the session she said, “You should talk to a Rabbi.”

That same day I had an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon about an injury. He also knew I had gone on the trip to Eastern Europe so after the exam he asked, “How did the trip go?” I told him about the trip and about Charlottesville.  He said, “You should see my Rabbi.” 

He gave me the phone number for Rabbi Jack Paskoff. The Synagogue where he is the Rabbi was on the way home so I stopped, met the Rabbi briefly and made an appointment to talk.

Two weeks later we talked.  I told him about my very happy life that got turned over in November of 2016 and then knocked flat watching torch-carrying Nazis marched in America. 

After about 40 minutes Rabbi Paskoff said, “Ever since you left home after high school, you have chosen your identities: airman, soldier, husband, father, student, writer, racer, your choice. Now your identity has chosen you…….

Welcome to the Jewish experience.”

He then said I was welcome to attend Torah study and services. He hoped that the congregation could help me find peace. 

I started attending Torah study on Saturday mornings and Wednesday morning prayer. After the prayer meeting on Wednesdays, several of the men meet for breakfast. The man who invited me is a retired Army Sergeant’s Major. At the first breakfast, I found six of the eight men, including me, were veterans. Most served during the draft.  In the 45 years since I first enlisted, I have never been part of a veterans group. Now I am.

Rabbi Paskoff said the question of anti-Semitism is never “if?” but “when?”  Until Charlottesville and now Pittsburgh, I could navigate the prejudice. But the events in Charlottesville and, more importantly, the President’s response, said the danger is real. President Obama recently said in a campaign speech, “How can it be hard to condemn Nazis?”  He made it sound like a joke, but the former President knows exactly why the current President can’t condemn white nationalists: racists and Nazis are the base of the Trump Party. 

The gunman in Pittsburgh said on line that the caravan lie was the reason he chose that moment to murder. The day of the shooting and every day until the election, the President said the same lie, loudly and stridently, as did his worshippers in Evangelical pulpits and on Fox News. 

Racism, horrible racism in the form of Slavery and Jim Crow, is as American as murdering Native Americans to take their land.  Virulent anti-Semitism is back with a Presidential Seal of Approval.

After Pittsburgh, I decided to become a member of the Synagogue where Jack Paskoff is the Rabbi.

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