Troopathon 2009: My Chaplain
by Robert J. Avrech
My father is the child in the back row with eyes closed. Next to him, right, is Miriam, my grandmother. Poland, 1921.
My father, Rabbi Abraham Avrech, reached his 90th year two weeks ago. Born in Poland, he came to America with his mother and older brother Chaim, when he was 4-years old. My grandfather, Rabbi Shmuel Avrech was a shochet, ritual slaughterer and mohel, specialist in ritual circumcisions.
I come from countless generations of scholarly and pious Rabbis, thus my screenwriting career represents something of a rupture in a noble family tradition.
Sigh.
A member of the Greatest Generation, my father’s family was poor, but he quipped: “We didn’t know we were poor, everyone was poor.”
My father attended Yeshiva Chaim Berlin and then Yeshiva University where he was ordained as a Rabbi. He enlisted as a Chaplain in the U.S. Army, 42nd Division, and served during World War II and the Korean War.
42nd Infantry Division shoulder sleeve insignia.
“The Army is the best thing that ever happened to me,” my father said, “I was given the opportunity to experience the wider world and serve my country.”
Serving until mandatory retirement, my father was honorably discharged holding the rank of Colonel.
My mother Mina, and my father, 1943.
My mother was a radiant war bride. My parents got married in my grandfather’s living room, my grandfather performing the ceremony. Right after the wedding—I mean the very next day—my parents were gone to Texas where my father took up his duties as Army Chaplain.
Chaplain Avrech at play.
An amazing athlete, my father was one of those street urchins who, when he wasn’t studying Talmud, could be found in the streets of Brooklyn playing punchball, stickball and basketball. In the Army, my father realized that officers and enlisted men assumed that because he was a Chaplain and a Jew he would be, um, sports challenged. My father took great pleasure in winning a Division ping-pong championship. “I got lots of respect after that,” my father joked.
My father seeks warmth during the Korean War.
Growing up, my father was often absent during the High Holidays, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. He was off, somewhere in the world, leading services for Jewish soldiers. For a while, I felt lonely, abandoned. All my friends sat with their fathers in shul, synagogue, and I was alone. At one point, near my Bar Mitzvah, my father explained that in life, duty frequently comes before personal desires. From then on, I took great pride in my father’s Chaplaincy.
My father touches home.
A fast and elegant short-stop, my father was so talented he was scouted by the majors. But because we are Orthodox—Sabbath Observant, Kosher food, etc.—my father declined an invitation to try out for a Triple-A farm team. This shot was taken in a Brooklyn park where Sunday baseball was a ritual. My father is scoring the winning run at the bottom of the 9th inning. It doesn’t get any better.
My father, airborne.
This photo is captioned: “42nd Division Helicopter Flying test run with Chaplain Avrech also of the 42nd Infantry Division. Photographer: Pvt. Joseph Deflora, 7 August ‘56.” As you can see by the coffin attached, this helicopter was designed to transport battlefield casualties.
My father, wearing tallis, prayer shawl, leads High Holiday services during the Korean War.
I once asked my father of what he was most proud during his service in the Army. He told me that he once led Protestant religious services because there was no Christian Chaplain available. “I did a real mitzvah,” he said.
All his life my father has served family, community and country with selfless devotion.
There is no greater role model.
Copyright © Robert J. Avrech
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33 Comments
What a father to be proud of!
You are surely blessed!
And I know it. Thanks so much.
What a wonderful story and a legacy to be proud of. Thank you for sharing!
Yes, legacy is the right word.
But as one of our, ahem, "progressive" friends commented in another post: “Another example of Avrech ethnocentrism.”
That is a rather odd comment and there is certainly no evidence of being "ethnocentric". He probably doesn't even know the meaning of the word.
I think they are known as the "Greatest Generation" because they were selfless. I just wrote a small obituary for one of our car club members – resigned his ROTC commission to become a Private – and attend flight school – was flying a P38 on recon missions over Omaha Beach while – in his words – he could see his old unit catching hell.
Your father has lived his life serving others – certainly no higher calling in this world.
Sounds like he was a real life Jewish Father Mulcahy – if I am not mistaken there was a MASH episode where he showed his boxing prowess.
You're actually looking for intelligence from someone—and by someone, I mean loser—who makes such a dopey comment
Robert, this is very very appropriate for Father's Day and Independence Day.
Yes, you're very right. Thanks so much.
There are rabbis and there are rabbis. Screenwriting, and posts like this – you aren't so far from the family line of work as all that. Some are in the synagogue, some in the field, some in pictures…
I really enjoyed reading about your dad. What an amazing man. I know that you are very proud. It really comes through with your writing. Thank you for sharing.
I just finished reading another first person "soldiers" story, and like many others, the author singles out the chaplains, and medics/corpsman as those most revered during combat. Many risked their lives to tend the wounded, and had the unpleasant task of writing the families of those KIA. The could always be counted on to pinch-hit (conduct services) outside their own denomination, whether Jewish, Protestant or Catholic etc. Many thanks to your father for his service to our country. You have a lot to be proud of.
Thanks so much for the kind words. My father is my father, my Chaplain, my Rabbi.
Very proud. Glad you enjoy the post.
I can't tell you how much I look forward to your articles (and images).
"… my screenwriting career represents something of a rupture in a noble family tradition."
Your dedication to passing on historical information is nothing if not noble.
Greatly appreciate your enthusiasm for my posts. Even as a child, I understood that the preservation of memories was, for me, as necessary as oxygen.
A touching sketch of your father.
My Grandfather was also a chaplain during WW2. He was 40 years old and left a comfortable Lutheran parish to serve in the 90th Inf Div. He went in to France with Patton's 3rd army. He only served a few months in France before he was discharged for an injury, but it was the highlight of his life. After he retired from active ministry 20 years after the war, he again became a chaplain at the VA hospital in Indianapolis – another labor of love.
God bless all chaplains – past present and future.
Amen, and/or the Jewish equivalent.
And thank you.
Parents draw strength and support from their children. No doubt, having you in his life has nurtured his spirit.
My father missed serving in WW2 due to a minor 4F status so he continued with his plans to enter the Lutheran minister. He also got his pilots license and felt he could do his part to serve his country by joining the Civil Air Patrol. There weren't many out there, but when the Korean war started the Air Force wanted "a few good ministers" with pilots licenses to become Chaplains and my Dad was one of those few. He spent spent six years on active duty serving in awful places and not so awful places, but you couldn't tell him that any of them were bad. His most memorable tour was serving with an Army Aviation Engineer Battalion in Japan and Korean. He was the only blue suit in a field of OD green, but he was one of the men. He stayed in uniform as a reservist for twenty more years, and his sense of duty to God and Country only got stronger the longer he was out of uniform in retirement. I served my time in the Army as a Straight Leg Grunt and later as an Intel Weeny, and I'll never forget my Dad telling me that serving my country was an honor and that I had to be a twenty four hour soldier. My Dad is gone now, and I miss him dearly.
You'll have to forgive my "fat fingered" mistakes above. I had to reduce it down from a much larger statement and did a lousy job of reviewing.
Family tradition or not, our Lord has a place for us all in this world. Your father found his and has fullfilled that role above and beyond the call of duty. You have found yours and continue to fill it with excellence. You do him honor.
Indeed, I come from a long tradition of Bucharean merchants. My Dad was the first one of our family born in this country and the first to enlist in the Army back in the 1957. Later he followed in the family tradition. I'm the blacksheep, taking on engineering but not before service in the USAF myself. With Father's day passed and Indenpendance day comming, I remember him for all the good he has done.
Oh and I love all the pictures here, but your parents wedding photo is absolutely beautiful!
Your grandfather is a great man. Most people are not aware of the great and heroic work our Chaplains peform. They are not allowed to bear arms, hence on the battlefield they are huge targets.
Amen is Hebrew, so no equivalent necessary:-)
Thanks so much.
Jyst the other day, my father told me that he was proud of me. I am content.
No apologies necessary. Your comment is deeply moving. G-d bless your father and his good works.
How interesting. We are both, sorta black sheeps.
My mother had red hair and really had that Barbara Stanwyck look going on. The beautiful wedding dress, was, obviously, borrowed from a more wealthy relative. But gee, don't they look great!
Thank you Robert. Continue to love and honor your Father deeply. My regards to him.
Interesting indeed. My mother (now living near Oakland among my other sibs) is also an auburn haired angel.
And yes, they do look awesome. Truly radient.
[...] apartment in Long Beach where I saw an old family photo of my paternal grandmother, Miriam, with my father and his brother, my Uncle [...]
Bob,
Its Heidi, I know how you felt your dad let you kids and your Mom down when you were a kid, because he was a VERY big guy in the LIONS CLUB. He gave all his time to the community and and the BLIND and didn't really spend alot of time with you guys and Mom, then there was the upside-down Christmas tree and the eating of your Moms Pies that she made for a fund raiser . You guys got let out of the picture in your minds. But maybe things he did made him feel better about himself. I love all you guys , and really understand where you came from. Sometimes you don't understand everything your parents do, even though they think they are doing it for the right reasons. I think your Dad was a HERO to many BLIND and DEAF people. Love Heidi
Darkwolf, I was curious about your reference to Bucharean merchants and spent the last hour or so reading up on the history of the Jews in central asia. Fascinating! Thank you!
You are most welcome Shady. Indeed, I find climbing up into the family tree quite intriguing. Thank you for your interest there as well.
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