Letter 7 - February 11, (1919)

Hotel Wagram, Rue de Rivoli, Paris

Dear Family,-

Tomorrow eve we set sail for Modane, Italy. As sleepers are not in use these days we will be obliged to spend two nights and a day in a first class coach which at best is none too comfortable. Well - C’est la guerre! Our party will consist of Dr. F., Dr. R., Szold and me.

This is a most fascinating town – with London there is no comparison. Its beautiful buildings, its myriads of historic statues and monuments, its treed streets and parks and its picturesque Champs Elysees lined on all sides with many varieties of captured cannon – all are worth spending weeks enjoying. And we have practically no time so far. Conference has followed meeting in quick succession. Dr. Weitzman, who for some time has been practically dictator in Palestine, is here. Skoloff is here – he sends you all his regards. One of Dr. Flexner’s brothers is here and a number of lesser lights from various countries including Russia, Serbia, Switzerland and France – all convene daily for discussion.

This evening I’ve arranged to be absent in order to take supper with Charles Abenheimer, whom I succeeded in locating.

Among others whom I’ve met here is a man who used to teach me Hebrew some years ago. He is at the head of the Jewish Welfare Work in Paris.

I’m going to make a special effort to spend a little time in the Louvre tomorrow. I’d regret having been here without having been inside.

The weather has become milder – for which we are all grateful – tho so far I’ve had no occasion to use aspirin. Which reminds me – there is very little sugar here nor in London so thank you, Grow, I can use saccharin and not mind it.

Lots of love,

Rudolf.

Letter 8 - February 14, (1919)

Rome

Dear Family,-

Our stay in Paris was brief,- too brief to enable us to see all we would have liked to see. In fact I spent the entire of the last two days frantically trying to obtain our railway tickets and our police permits to leave the country – which was almost as hard as obtaining visas to come in. Finally after getting five first class seats to Modane, which is on the Italian border and is an all night ride, and discreetly spreading ten franc notes about the office of the Prefecture of the Police I managed with the assistance of the secretary of the Zionist Bureau in Paris and a note from the British Embassy and from the American Consul to have everything ready for our departure on schedule. At 8.25 P.M. Wednesday the train left for Italy with five of us aboard.

The next morning we found ourselves among the snow-covered foothills of the Alps—most beautiful country. At one o’clock we arrived at Modane and spent three hours being duly inspected and examined and then boarded the train for Torino, from where we would get the night train to Rome. We were constantly climbing higher and it was beginning to get really cold. And we had not succeeded in getting first class (which in Italian trains is non the best) and were cramped into second with several other men who smelled of onions. At Torino three hours later we found a “Cook” man who, for a consideration, found us a comparatively comfortable compartment on the night train to Rome. We made ourselves comfortable and soon settled to sleep, notwithstanding the fact that apparently the Italians have no more scruples about travelling during the night than during the day, and there was a perpetual hubbub at every station. We passed thru Geneva, and Pisa, and lots of little places whose names I don’t recall.

Today at noon we arrived here dirty, and hungry, but happy. Rome received us with open arms, a hotel taxi at the station, a beautiful sunshiny, mild day, a hotel with an inviting suite of three rooms and two baths, -- and how good it all did feel; a shave and a warm bath in a luxurious tub, after not having our clothes off in nearly forty-eight hours. And then some spaghetti and cheese for lunch. We never knew before it could taste so good.

We expect to remain here several days, until we are certain of obtaining passage to Egypt. And I’m not sorry because I really like this place more than either London or Paris am sure to see lots of interesting things.

Lots of love to all,

Rudolf

Letter 9 - February 15, (1919)

Rome, Excelsior

Dear Family,-

When I tried to type my last letter to you – soon after arriving here in Rome yesterday, I was so tired that I’m sure it makes little sense – so I’ll start again.

We had a violent but successful struggle getting out of Paris. Finally we were all five located, hand baggage and all, in a little compartment with one stranger. We had planned to dine at the station before leaving, but Szold missed connections and didn’t arrive until a few moments before the train pulled out so that we had no time. However I managed by dint of facial contortions and gestures to have a box of food made up at the buffet and a large bottle of wine – which served to satiate the greater pangs of hunger. The wine especially was good and was strong and served to make us all happier. Because our leaving was insisted upon by Dr. F. against the protests of Robison, Rubinow and Szold who would have preferred to wait until sleepers could be obtained thru to Rome – which would have meant a week’s delay and the party showed signs of becoming most disconsolate and uncongenial, so it fell upon Dr. F. and myself to cheer them up. By ten we had decided to “retire”, so wrapping ourselves in blankets we sank into our seats. Soon all was quiet – each tho’t the others asleep. The seats none too comfortable at best were certainly not made for sleeping. Of course I managed to get my full share of slumber – but my sympathy was certainly with the unhappy crowd that I saw on awakening at 8 the next morning. A more grouchy, bedraggled, unkempt lot I’ve never seen. We stopped at a little way station and I hopped out and got them all some coffee – which was a horrible mixture containing condensed milk ad saccharin. But it was warm

And everybody felt better. News was that we were only two hours late, so we returned and spent the remaining time telling jokes and admiring the always increasingly beautiful scenery of the foothills of the alps, with their snow-covered summits and wooded girdles of pine. An occasional little village would drift by with its inevitable church and its substantial little houses. Most of the land, even the most hilly, was under cultivation. The latter is achieved by means of sticks to which the plants attach themselves and grow upright. French peasant women would be working in the fields, clothed in their costumes of loud colors. Altogether we were compensated for our night’s discomforts.

Shortly after noon we arrived at Modane, on the Italian border, where we were to be inspected. Here was located a small detachment of U.S. military police to watch for deserters and A.W.O.L.s (which in army parlance means absent without leave) and several R.T.O.s (railway transportation officer). In charge of both was a young sergeant, who on looking at my passport and military status remarked that he was from Balto. And that his bother lived at 1600 Linden Ave. Then he discovered my name and informed me that he had worked at H.S. & Co. After which inspection of the party was made easy. It certainly has been wise to travel in uniform, it has constantly served to obtain immediate entre everywhere.

From Modane was but a three hour ride to Torino from where we were to board the train for Rome. At Torino we met a book agent who assured us we could easily get a first class compartment. He begged us to leave matters to him and have supper. Bt Szold and I were doubtful so we remained while the others ate. Soon the train pulled in; and it was most fortunate that we waited. For such a scramble, such a struggle ensued that memories of bygone football games awakened. We literally fought for a compartment and fought to keep it. And once inside we dared not leave, as there were apparently far more travelling than the seats would hold. Once I had to bodily eject some ambitious porter who had succeeded in planting a suitcase on one of the seats in spite of Szold’s protests. Finally the three diners returned and we went out in quest of food. The Cook man had purchased our tickets, which was unfortunate. They cost us L125.00 a piece for 14 hours travel – which I had gotten our tickets at Paris to Modane, also 14 hrs travel, at 25.00 Fr (Fr.100=115 Liras) because of the fact that I’m in uniform and exhibit a letter from the British Embassy stating we are a medical unit travelling as a commission to Palestine.

We tho’t to while away some of the time playing cards so we made some of paper and Rubinow, Robison, Szold and I played poker, - much to the amusement of a group of onlookers outside. We used matches for chips. As usual I won! Meantime Dr. Fr. had fallen asleep so we all followed suit. We piled our suitcases on the floor and made ourselves quite comfortable. At one of the stations early in the morning I had gotten out to buy some chocolate – the first really good chocolate we’ve had since leaving the U.S - and had succeeded in smashing a window. And the night air was cold, so the blankets came into very good use. Most of us slept soundly until early in the morning when a loud humming awoke us. An airplane was flying just outside the window about ten feet off the ground. He waved to us and then arose several thousand feet. We were on very flat country, travelling parallel to the shore of the Medit. A number of airplanes were visible in the distance – and soon we passed a large hangar.

At eleven we arrived in Rome and soon were in a modern taxi headed for this hotel. All of us were grateful to have arrived – but the clear blue sky and the comparatively warm air were unexpected; it was the first fine day we’ve had since being in Europe. And soon we were established in a fine suite of three rooms and two baths at the reasonable rate of L 125.00 daily (slightly over $4.00) and gratefully splashing in tubs of warm water.

Late in the afternoon a Zionist enthusiast appeared name Dr. Bleustein and we succeeded finally in establishing linguistic relations with him with the forbidden language. Thru him we met a young Polish boy who, with about 150 other others, has after three months wandering, succeeded in getting this far on his journey to Palestine. He claims there are six thousand in the same predicament in Vienna – all young people – refugees from Poland.

This morning we went to temple. A huge, gorgeous, orthodox affair it was. The services were most chaotic and uninteresting. Afterwards we lunched at a kosher restaurant where we met a Zionist of some fame – Ushiskin*. He talked interminably!

We walked to Adrian’s tomb – an ancient affair which has partly been rebuilt. It was surrounded by what was once a moat. Inside, except for its unwieldy size, its unique illumination by means of cutting holes thru the walls, the most interesting feature was an old death cell wherein the victim was placed and left to die. If he proved stubborn or tough a trap door was opened and he was slid into the Tiber.

From there we meandered to St. Peter’s Cathedral which is attached to the Pope’s estate. Compared with it St. Paul’s in London is non existent. Naturally the former is more modern and its architecture permits of greater responsibilities. But these possibilities are fully realized. The huge columns at the entrance are made of perfectly blended marble. Within the huge arches are supported by giant pillars of marble inlaid symmetrically with smaller slabs of colored stone.

In the center is a large tabernacle, modelled after one of Solomon’s temple. Below this behind several barred doors (opened by their keeper for a consideration) rest the bones of Sts. Peter and Paul, in a beautiful gold casket made by Benvenuto Cellini. We wandered about for a little. There were some rather interesting old paintings and marble sculpture, etc. Of the latter there was a lion, a wonderful creature, giant in proportions, about to make a spring. Every muscle is prepared and his huge jaw is already opening in anticipation. Gaze at him for a moment and unconsciously you shudder. Compared to him our 42 St. and 5^th Ave. lions are a dismal failure.

While the rest of the party returned to the hotel, Szold and I went out to the coliseum. It proved quite interesting with its tiers of stone on one side five high. While standing in the middle of the inside we chanced to look up and beheld directly over us an airplane looping the loop – the contrast of the different ages was ludicrously striking.

This eve we had planned to go to the opera – but could get no seats.

Lots of love and kisses

Rudolf

Ushiskin – Menahem Mendel Ushiskin:- b. Russia 1863 – d. Jerusalem 1941; active as organizer in every Zionist effort from 1881 in Russia; leader in Zionist Congresses, aliya groups, delegate to Paris Peace Conference after which he made aliya*.

“Aliya (literally ascending) is the Hebrew word for immigration to the Land of Israel. The meaning of ascent in this context is spiritual as well as physical; all Jews are educated in the belief that this ascent is an essential part of Judaism. It is the ultimate form of identification with one's people, the Jewish people, whose life and destiny are inextricably tied to the Land of Israel.” (http://www.israel.org)

Letter 10 - February 18, (1919)

Rome, Excelsior

Dear Family,-

We’re about to leave here for Taranto where we have gotten passage on a British transport to Port Said. We have sleepers this time - it’s an eighteen hour trip and we’re due tomorrow afternoon. The boat requires two days in crossing so we’ll be in Egypt on the 21^st and in Palestine just one month after leaving New York. It seems like six – so much has been happening.

Two days ago we set out on a sight-seeing expedition. Szold and I went to the Forum. By accident we came across an old fellow who, for 5 lira per hour, volunteered to act as our guide. He was dirty and unkempt but without exception he was the best guide I’ve ever met. He was an old pensioned school teacher – he spoke fairly good English – he claimed to have read many books on the history and excavations of the Forum. So after a time we tried to stump him and thru the morning and afternoon, when the rest of the party joined us we questioned him about every detail – to be answered spontaneously and correctly. He held the Romans in great contempt and would occasionally launch forth into lengthy arguments over the corruption and vice practiced.

The excavations themselves are interesting – but are very hard to properly appreciate. Here we find an arch erected 650 B.C. and there a temple finished in 400 A.D. Of course the place reached its fullest glory during J. Caesar’s time and declined steadily after him. It is apparent that bo time until the present has anybody felt the value of history. It is apparent that the grossest vandalism was constantly practiced by each succeeding generation. And yet enough remains today to give us some slight conception of the size and grandeur of the place – the glorious artistry of it – built totally disregarding the value of the human lives expended at its erection.

Adjoining the forum are the palaces of various early rulers. There still remain in some of the rooms beautifully designed mosaic flooring, laboriously achieved with minute squares of colored marble. Also there remain, sometimes in very good condition, a number of wall frescoes painted with hot wax and coloring. We found the dining room, the kitchen, the library and the room where the palate was tickled with a feather at the banquets in order to make more room for more food.

In the evening we met a number of boys who had left Poland and Russia three months ago to go to Palestine. For three months they have travelled – there are 150 of them in Italy at present – first to Trieste via Vienna, then to Genoa then to Roma. Now, being practically penniless, tho the majority of them came from well-to-do parents, they are compelled to find work until the British Govt finds means for transporting them to Egypt.

You know it’s the first time I’ve come face to face with the reality of Zionism. Here for the first time I see a group of boys leaving their homes, leaving their families with no means of communicating with them, leaving everything, every comfort every pleasure – to live in Palestine. They are all boys – seventeen years old is the youngest – filed with enthusiasm, anxious to get there. All are well educated – one is a musician who has spent six years at the Vienna conservatory – half are academic students. They came here with news that there are six thousand now in Vienna, who just like themselves are anxiously awaiting their opportunity of getting to Palestine.

Zionism is up against the first real problem, the first practical problem since its conception. To date it has been the subject of polite conversation, a subject of religious discussion, a subject of sentiment, emotion, and finally a subject of vital political issue. For all of this it is well supplied with speakers, thinkers, writers, financiers, diplomats of the highest ability. But with one exception – I have met with no one who appears to be in any way a capable, practical, common-sense individual.

And the great problem is this – What’s to be done with these hundreds, eventually these thousands of students, dreamers, thinkers, idealists who are beginning to flock to Palestine. Of course there are trees to be planted, there are a few Bezallel knick-nacks to be hammered and welded – but all this is of no practical – no fundamental value to a young colony (except for advertising purposes).

And when these thousands of young enthusiasts flock to Palestine only to find that there is nothing to do and disappointedly return home then what’s to become of this fine and lofty conception of the “Home Land”. Heroic measures are necessary to save the situation – and I don’t believe that the enormity of the problem is realized by Dr. Weitzman himself. Within a week we’ll be able to see the real condition – and I hope to be able to accomplish something.

Yesterday we visited the Vatican – for three hours. It would take three months to properly see the place and three years to really appreciate it. It contains more masterpieces in the art of sculpture than I knew existed in the world, it contains priceless books, it contains a number of Raphael’s and Michalangelo’s most famous painting, it contains the beautifully frescoed Sistine Chapel. To describe it in its entirety is impossible. Afterwards we went to a little church which contains the famous statue of Moses. In the evening we had supper with one Dr. Stern, a most active individual of 71 years, who, tho he’s never been to Eng. Or Amer. speaks flawless English. He tried to arrange a meeting for us with the old Luzzati, a Jew, formerly prime minister and then sec. of the Treasury and now a power in the legislature of Italy. He, however, was indisposed and sent his regrets.

Today we’ve spent getting the necessary visas, etc. – we’ve become quite hardened to filling out our life histories on the blanks of various offices.

Lots of love

Rudolf

Letter 11 - February 19, (1919)

S.S. Kashgar, Mediterranean Sea (leaving the Taranto Harbor)

Dear Family,-

Yesterday afternoon our own American Consul at Rome and our American Naval Attachee wired to the British Naval Base at Taranto that we were coming and that thy should hold a boat for us. It was leaving the next day and that it would be held until our arrival. I had already engaged sleepers at Taranto so at seven-thirty we left Rome. Our Pulman sleepers may be comfortable but they are nothing compared to the luxurioussness of these used in Europe.

At about one o’clock today our train arrived. At the station we were greeted by some British and some Italian Naval officers who directed some sailors to take our baggage while they conducted us to a military auto and then via a speedy little launch to the ship. Soon after we got aboard the steamer started.

It is a large boat, far larger than I thought ran in the Mediterranean. One of the officers tells me, however, that there are a number of just such boats which have temporarily turned over to the British in order that they may rapidly send home their demobilized troops. We were under the impression that this boat went to Alexandria, for we had hoped to go to Cairo before getting to Palestine, but we find that we are en route to Port Said; so that it is doubtful whether we will go out of our way just to see Cairo.

Just before leaving Rome we located several English papers containing the full text of the document drawn up at the Peace Conference. If it succeeds, if some precedent is established at an early time before the high resolves of the several “high contracting parties” are forgotten, then a very lasting peace is apparently assured. And we may be proud of being a fellow-countryman of Wilson, the acknowledged leader at the gathering.

Yesterday I located a YMCA house at Rome and bought a supply of tobacco, chocolate and matches. Tho a limited amount only is permitted to one person I argued that in Palestine there was no “Y” etc and finally was granted permission to buy all I cared to take along.

The climate is wonderful here. The air is warm, the sky is richly blue, the people are lazy, the children are dirty, the houses are filthy—but everybody seems happy. There abounds an atmosphere of extreme contentment.

Lots of love and kisses,

Rudolf

Letter 12 - February 21, (1919)

S.S. Kashgar

Dear Family,-

Tomorrow we arrive at Port Said and we’ll be in Jerusalem Sunday. This Mediterranean trip has been most restful. There is nobody aboard except a small crowd of elderly Red Cross doctors and nurses, who have their bridge games during the day and retire early.

The ocean is calm, the boat feels as tho we were docked, the air is mild, the water richly blue, and at night the waters glisten with the rays of a big bright moon. Our cabins are on the top deck, the choicest aboard, and we have Hindoos as stewards. They awaken us in the morning to place a cup of tea and some crackers next to our beds. Later they arouse us again for our baths, and the breakfast is ready.

We have been holding several conferences as to what specifically each will accomplish upon our arrival. Dr. Rubinow will be the active executive of the medical unit. Mr. Robison is going to investigate the commercial possibilities and the economic condition. Mr Szold is going to be the diplomatic or political representative where necessary, and Dr. F. is going as general all-around advisor and helper.

It is a strange coincidence that we will arrive there just one month to the date after our leaving New York.

Lots of love,

Rudolf

Letter 13 - February 23, (1919)

CONTINENTAL HOTEL – Port Said (Egypt)

Dear Family,-

We arrived here early yesterday afternoon. Our steamer was anchored in the harbour along with dozens of large boats of almost every nationality. I came ashore immediately with a govt. official in hope of arranging thru passage immediately. Palestine is still under military control and so permission to travel is in the hands of the staff officers. The best they could do was give us the necessary papers to this evening. So at six we leave for Kantara – an hour’s ride from there we travel overnight to Lod, which is half-way between Jaffa and Jerusalem, and we have wired to have an auto meet us to bring us to Jaffa, which will most likely be our headquarters.

This is my first taste of the Orient – and it leaves nothing to be desired. It is as warm in actuality as by reputation; there are swarms of lies, the atmosphere is dusty and of a peculiar odor.

The native costumes are most unique. They consist of nightgowns of any color usually in the last stages of decay, a large sash, a red turban without a tassel, and usually bare feet but never stockings. To them a bath is unknown.

Yesterday evening, after establishing ourselves at this hotel, we started walking somewhat timorously towards the center of town to cautiously examine this den of iniquity. Everything seemed dark, the stores were closed, there were few people out, and yet we had yet to see a woman of any description, native or otherwise, except at the hotel. Soon we heard a murmur of voices. Drawing nearer we saw a small crowd of soldiers, sailors, civilians and natives pushing at the entrance of a shabby building from which weird sounds of an antique piano were coming. I was in favour of going in but no one would accompany me. Finally I joined the crowd, approached the entrance, and found placarded at the door “Charlie Chaplin” in “A dog’s life” Cinema. And that, we were told, is the only bit of amusement remaining here since the war. We all retired early.

This morning we wandered thru the shops and got much needed haircuts. The Red Cross crowd are stopping at the other hotel and tonight they too will leave for Jerusalem. We happened upon them just as a native magician began to demonstrate his wares. We all seated ourselves with him in our midst and were given a half hour’s real entertainment. He made coins appear and disappear, he produced a little chick from under one of the officer’s shirts, he let one of the nurses hold one of her coins while he changed it into a lead piece from silver- altogether he was better than any vaudeville “artist” I’ve ever seen.

As we were waling back along the main street we came upon some odd looking creatures clothed in black –the native Arab women. They wear long black dresses, an heavy veils over their heads. A circular wooden affair about an inch in diameter is fastened from the veil over their heads extending to their noses. This is fastened to a face veil which allows only their eyes to be exposed. The only bit of adornment or color they wear are sandals and anklets. These latter are apparently the only means of identifying between the castes or classes.

This afternoon we took a short ride thru the native quarters. There are military police signs on every corner forbidding entrance to troops – and the M. P. is justified. Such dirty hovels, such filth, such positive human rotting I could never conceive of. At least it proves that a bath is a luxury, not an essential to life. The male population seems to spend its time in vile drink houses sitting around tables staring vacantly at the passer by or just sitting. The houses are sometimes three or four stories high and the whole never even twenty feet off the ground. A room is furnished with a lot of straw which serves the dual purpose of a floor covering and family bed. There is a dilapidated stove occasionally in the corner – and that’s al. Those dependent o the outside for food buy from vendors, who constantly push their carts up and down the narrow streets yelling at intervals and constantly handling their wares with dirty, repulsive fingers. They have round loaves of bread, dates, oranges and flat cakes something like our pancakes.

The native section abound with children. They seem to flourish in spite of never having their necks and ears washed. They sit in the middle of the little alley ways and sing and dance and cheerfully stick their fingers into each others’ mouths and throw sand and dirt at one another. No one seems to pay the slightest attention to even the smallest.

The money used here is complicated and usually bad. One must always pay the exact amount to stores and vendors for the change is bound to be worthless. At banks and public institutions the cashier drops every coin on a marble slab to demonstrate that it is not counterfeit. English money is used in conjunction with the Egyptian thus £1 = about £.975 Egyptian pounds and a shilling is as good as about 5 piestes.

Well, - tonight we leave -

Love,

Rudolf