As a single, 21-year-old registered nurse with a specialty in operating room nursing, I was “signed on” in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1948 to be a ‘Machal’ volunteer. My name then was Ruth Levine. A friend at Montefiore Hospital, Norma Reidbord, ‘signed on’ at the same time.
The two of us went to Israel together in August of 1948. We flew to Paris, and spent several weeks there under the care of a small group of Israelis who, amongst other things, ran a clandestine radio station over which we heard one evening the news of Dag Hammarskjold’s assassination. We suspected, but were not told, that our passports were being used during the few weeks we were there to help refugees travel to Israel.
When we were given the okay to travel to Israel we were sent via Air France, except that after about an hour of flight time the crew changed uniforms and became “Air Transport.” We were a small group of passengers. When we landed in Rome to refuel, we were told that we couldn’t leave right away because some planes had just disappeared from the tarmac and they suspected our destination was Israel. We were approached by a handsome young man sitting in front of us on the plane. He invited us on a tour of Rome by horse and buggy, and then a visit to the Rome Conservatory of Music, where they turned on all the lights and we were greeted warmly by many talented musicians who played well into the night, until a call came saying we could again board our plane for ‘Eretz.’ The young man’s name was Lenny Bernstein, who was on his way to entertain the troops in Israel.
When we arrived in Israel, Norma (Niki) and I were soon split up. She was sent to the hospital in Be’er Sheva and I was sent to Bilu Hospital No.8 (then Sarafand Hospital). There I met a wonderful American nurse, but her name escapes me.
In the spring of ’49, when my plans to be discharged and return to the States were in effect, I met Basil Levin, a South African Machalnik who had been in the IDF’s Engineering Corps the previous year. He was a civil engineer and built bridges, laid mines, and so on. He was leading a group of some 35-40 Machalniks who planned to settle in Israel on a moshav shitufi. They were going up to Kfar Blum on “hachshara” before being assigned to their own land. I was invited by Basil to hitchhike up with them and I did so.
We settled on Moshav Habonim, and ours was their first wedding, and our son Doron was the first child born there.
Source: American Veterans of Israel Newsletter October 1997
Written by Ruth Levine