While waiting to board the vessel “Tetti” in Genoa, with Margaret Carruthers and another nurse, I witnessed one of the most dramatic and unforgettable events of my life, when in the early evening twilight a train pulled into the siding next to the ship, carrying some 100 Hungarian orphans plus adult holocaust survivors. At every window children dressed neatly in khaki Jewish Youth Movement uniforms leaned out singing and enthusiastically waving Israeli flags. I was on the verge of tears as I gazed at their glowing faces.
The ship I was on, however, was a different story. It was far too small, the holds and cabins had been replaced by large rooms containing multi-layered bunks, reminiscent of the concentration camps. Once we had boarded, I was struck by the number of new-born babies, everywhere women with babies were lying on the floors of the dark and gloomy corridors. The toilet and ablution facilities were grossly inadequate for such a large number of people and soon broke down.
On the second day out, we ran into a storm which lashed the ship so violently that most passengers became seasick. The stench was unbearable. I went up on deck and sat on a bench. A sailor warned me of the danger of being washed overboard. I asked him for a rope and secured myself. I remained lashed to the bench as I was fascinated watching an elderly Rabbi standing below a stairway with sidur and tallit, praying fervently quite oblivious of the stormy seas.
I watched in awe, realizing that I was observing an incredible revelation. A manifestation of the indestructibility of the Jews. In spite of 2000 years of persecution, degradation death and destruction, he graphically illustrated that the human spirit was invincible. What I was witnessing was a realization of the biblical prophecy of the rebirth of Israel.
I was humbled by the comprehension of the immense privilege of being part of what I felt was a divine fulfillment. The experience of the two nurses was to prove invaluable in caring for the sick , especially the children. The fourth dawn brought glorious sunshine and a calm sea. The sailors brought barrels of seawater onto the deck, and the passengers washed themselves, and their clothes. They sang and danced and I marveled at their resilience.
The excitement of approaching Haifa had everyone lining the rails. We passed the UN inspection without incidence and it was obvious that in spite of our false I.D. books they knew who we were.
I shall never forget our departure in buses from Haifa, a full moon illuminated the landscape. The air was fragrant with the scent of orange blossoms. I sat entranced at the window until we reached Tel Litvinsky.
The next day the pilots and nurses were collected by the Air Force and Army respectively. I was just ignored and no one subsequently enquired, in spite of the fact that I had W.W.II S.A.A.F. experience. Becoming bored I joined a group of S. Africans preparing to join the 72nd Infantry Battalion.
We were sent to St. Lukes camp in time to join the 72nd English speaking “B” Company retraining and preparing to take up positions facing Syrians entrenched at Mishmar Ha-Yarden. “B” Company was commanded by a non-Jewish British volunteer David Appel. Also at St. Lukes I met, by a one in
a million chance, Canadian Hank Meyerowitz, who showed me some photo-graphs which turned out to be my entire family. Our mothers were sisters separated before W.W.I when his mother emigrated to Winnipeg and they had lost touch. This reunion was of great significance to me as it unearthed an uncle, my mother’s brother living in Chicago, and other Mirvis relations in Pennsylvania.
Eventually, after “B” Company returned to St. Lukes at the end of January 1949, the Air Force caught up with me and I spent the rest of my service in the Meteorogical section headed by Myra Simon.
I should have arrived in Israel some time in July. Two names that I remember on my flight to Rome were Morrie Ringer and Solly Ossin.
Unfortunately, following an unforgettable evening at the Terme de Carvalla Ampi theatre just outside Rome listening to the glorious voice of the last of the great Bel-canti tenors Flerrucio Tagerinini, my pocket was picked by a pair of skilful thieves, ending up sans money and passport.
At the S. African Embassy, I was interrogated all day to establish my identity and ensure that I had not sold my passport which was fetching high prices to be used in the murky world of espionage of those days. While waiting for a new passport, Jack Weinrock, sent me to use my S.A.A.F. knowledge of meteorology at the secret Haganah flying school near Rome, where one of the trainees was Henry Levinson (Uri Aylon).
It took some two months to receive my new passport from Pretoria, lacking an Italian visa, Jack sent me to Geneva by train where I had the visa stamped into my new passport, and returned to Rome officially.