To anyone, the mitzvot, the six hundred and thirteen precepts of the Torah, might seem like many, but for me it was the natural way of life, everything was planned, what should or should not be done, and there was no possibility of error, which gave me some peace of mind knowing how to respond when a new situation arose in life.
Although I do not consider myself a religious extremist, I do believe that I am a good Jew, at least that was what I said to my captain, whom I accompanied to Israel, from the British base.
They had taken me as an interpreter, since my boss did not know Hebrew, because although it was an British colony, that language was not spoken and known by all, being Hebrew the most used among those arriving from different parts of Europe.
My captain had asked for my references , because he was not sure of my loyalty, since they had had some other problem with the collaborators, as they called the civilians who generously lent themselves to acting as interpreters.
But my orders were OK, and although my origin was not listed as personnel of the American army, my report left no room for any doubt, because from the intelligence service of my country they do not leave any loose ends.
I had spent so much time infiltrated in different countries, in each of which I had a different name, profession and past, that sometimes I had trouble remembering who I was that day.
To avoid mistakes, as for the language or customs that I should use in that country, I tried to have a picture of me with the most typical costume or attire possible, so that with a simple glance at that photo I knew exactly where I was, what it was my mission and what identity I was with.
I was meticulous in my work, because although everything was appearance, I did not want to ruin the work of so many others who were looking for the destiny, the identity, a convincing story on one occasion, when it was required, I was a family man, in others a newly married or single, the most convenient way to avoid suspicion in the place where I was.
Likewise, I had to use the accents of the place of origin, sometimes forcing the tone to be clear, something that did not cost me too much, due to my ease for the languages and that they trained us with natives who helped us to get rid of the accent.
Hardly anybody knew anything about my true self or my past, since we changed partners in each mission and one of the rules was not to provide personal information about it, that, sometimes generated a great feeling of loneliness, but it was necessary for the work I was doing.
I was born in Poland, from an Orthodox Jewish family, that had allowed me to have ease in languages, because several were spoken in my house. Since childhood my mother insisted that I learn, British and French.
Although I did not understand why they wanted me to learn those languages from places I had not even heard of, that allowed me at ten years of age to master four languages, the previous two, plus Hebrew and of course Polish.
Later I became interested in Russian and Spanish, the truth is that possibly having started from a very young age to study different languages has made it easier for me to expand my knowledge.
Sometimes they have asked me if I don't get confused with so many languages and I tell them that for me it is something natural, that I do not have to do anything, when in a conversation in British someone asks me something in French, for example, I understand and I can answer without problems. An advantage in my life that opened many doors for me, and that allowed me to arrive to Israel.
My orders were always the same, to discover new coding codes and to send them to the command, and for the shipment to be safe I had developed a particular code, it was a family code, or rather referred to the family.
I was supposed to write home, commenting on my trip and asking for a relative, and according to who I was asking for, they could tell if I had found something or not. It was a very simple key, but thanks to that difficult to decipher, because for anyone who could see it, it was nothing more than a letter to a relative, of the many sent by the soldiers.
When I managed to get someone's code, then I did a special shipment, a small tourist gift wrapped in newspaper, and in it, indicated with invisible ink, the characters that formed the decoding key of the message discovered.
At the beginning the untraceable ink seemed complicated to transport, because it needed to be carried in a small bottle, which wasn't always easy, but then, and following old methods I learned how to do it with lemon juice. One spot on the paper, you couldnt see it or smell it, but when you hold it against the light, in front of a candle or a lamp it leaves an unequivocal signal of where the acid has been poured.
The intelligence training included a multitude of methods to receive and send all kinds of information, either together with objects or within them, of course I always expected that the one to whom it was sent to knew what to do when receiving it in order to interpret it correctly, and thus avoid misunderstandings or that the information submitted was lost, a method I used wherever they sent me to.
In England they had welcomed me, surprised at my problems in Spain, and surprised at my abilities to get there, so they told me.
After communicating with my command and waiting for a response for days, I was commissioned to be an assistant to a captain who should check the troops in one of the colonies near Egypt.
At first the idea seemed good to me, assuming I would have little work, because I did not know Arabic as a language, but when they told me that I was going to Israel, even my legs shook.
It's not that I am a radical, but I was raised as orthodox, and for us, it's like I don't know, like the Lincoln Memorial to the American people.
It is something so desired, that I couldnt imagine it, besides that would give me the opportunity to dust off my Hebrew, that since I had left my parents in America, I had not used it again, well, neither that language nor the Polish. I had not found myself in any situation to practice it.
A few days later we were in Israel, the captain, although a little insistent, took me from here to there, examining each checkpoint, and questioning every Jew who crossed the street.
I didn't know very well what he wanted or what he was looking for, but sometimes it became a tense situation, especially when I was questioned in Hebrew why I served these gentlemen.
I limited myself to being a translator, and asking them to answer the questions, even when one seemed out of place.
My captain sometimes wanted to intimidate those people, prove that he was the boss, or at least he gave me that impression.
But in the afternoon, I was free, my captain barely left the base, if it was not with an escort, he almost always spent resting as he liked, he couldnt stand the weather, so in his rooms it was where he better was.
On the other hand, whenever I had the opportunity, I left that place to be with the people and to walk through those lands, it seemed so strange to be there!
I was once in my thoughts when I suddenly heard by my side:
What?!, aren't you coming with your escort?
What escort? I asked a little surprised by his words.
How do you work for them?
I turned around and found an older man with a long beard dressed in black from head to toe, he was certainly a rabbi or at least he seemed so.
Excuse me sir, it's my job!
And why do you do this job? There are others more worthy! Excuse me, but that's how I feed my family, I've been working for years to be able to feed them.
A noble purpose, although I believe that with inadequate forms,
A noble purpose, although I believe that with inadequate forms,
You should think who you serve, men or your Creator!
I didn't know what to say at that time, because it has been a long time since I haven't practice Hebrew or Polish, same time without practicing my religion, regardless the big importance that my mother has always given to be scrupulous with the law and complying with it no matter what happened.
Looking up, I could see that the man had left without giving me the opportunity to respond, perhaps because he already knew the answer.
I was thoughtful wandering the streets aimlessly, I just wanted to clarify some ideas, that man had raised a single question, but for me it wasn't an easy matter.
After walking for a while I sat in a chair under the shade of a canvas that served as a sunshade in a cafeteria.
What's it gonna be! That young man told me.
A tea, very cold, please! I answered.
Soon he brought it to me and I was stirring the sugar with the spoon that he had added to sweeten it, while thinking about the words of that stranger.
If someone saw me with these military looks, they wouldn't recognize me. The first thing I had to do to when I entered the army was to shave my hair, especially symbolic was when they cut my Payot, those ringlets that following the Mitzvah, had never been cut off, thus losing my distinctive identity, thankfully my parents never saw me like this! They thought I would become someone important, not for men but for the Creator.
My mother always talked to me about how essential it was to fulfill our duties at all times, that they were always watching us, and that whatever happened, I should never lose the protection from above.
So many stories she had told me, how far in the past they seemed now! It could almost be the life of another person, where all those hours of study and discussion with other classmates or with a rabbi about the Talmud remained?, yes, that was one of my favorite things to do, to question everything and try to refute the rest with arguments.
Since I had entered the army everything had been different, my past life had been so far behind, always trying to fit in, not showing that I had a family and an origin so different from the rest, and instead now in Jerusalem, everything seemed that made some kind of sense.
Who knew I would be in these lands ?, treading where our ancestors did, where the history of our people was written, and instead, how unknown everything was to me, and how strange I felt!
I ran the palm of my hand over my face, and I was shaved, as the ordinances commanded, but that face did not show my true image, the one I had been educated to have, instead I now saw other Jews pass by respecting the Mishnah, Jewish laws, with the essential kippa, while those who come from Europe distinguished themselves by also wearing black caftan and steimel (a fur cap), and me, wearing only that military uniform of British regular.
I was absorbed in those thoughts when two women passed in front of me, one of them, I think after looking at me, she smiled.
I did not give more importance, but coming out of that moment of my self-absorption I got up and following an inexplicable internal impulse, I greeted them:
Good afternoon ladies! Can you tell me what time it is?
Ladies? They said laughing. What is the watch on the wrist for?
I just said the first thing that passed my mind and looked at it saying at the same time:
Well, it is not working!
One of them took my hand and raising it to have a look at it said:
Looks like is working now!
But thanks! I managed to say, before they both left laughing.
I felt so strange, I didn't quite understand why I had stood up in front of them, and with an excuse as bad as that.
So many years of service and I had forgotten a part of me, the family man, my family. We all have the obligation to form one, in order to pass our knowledge and the lessons received to the new generations.
But the army had absorbed me so much and for so long, I barely limited myself to doing my job and nothing else.
But those women, I don't know! That incident had awakened something inside me, or maybe it was tea, or maybe that city.
I found myself very, very lost.
Of course, I didn't know everything I know now, if I had known then, I would have preferred to go back to the United States, or even to England.
At least there I would have had a different life, not better, but possibly it would have been easier.
In England I would have recovered my classes at the University; In the US, they would have put me in charge of some intelligence or logistic support center, where they valued my years of experience, but staying in Israel was the most risky and strange thing that could have happened to me, and it happened to me.
After so many years, I can see how the circumstances began to lead me towards my destiny, if you could say so! At least that is what a non-believer can think, now with time, I am sure they guided my steps to fulfill a mission.
How different everything looks with the passage of time! So much nonsense done, so much wasted time when not trusting the Creator!
Now when I see a young man dressed as a military pass by, I feel sorry for him! So excited, so eager, and so lost, he doesn't know what his future will hold for him.
Very few from all those who get enlisted make a career in the end, they stayed a few years and a little more, some remain five or six years and that's it, and the rest leave it without thinking about it, although they have nowhere to go.
Even the army, when they have been some years, they discard them, especially for certain outposts, since the reflexes and enthusiasm that they show at the beginning are lost over the years.
On the other hand, in certain positions it is quite the opposite, the more years of experience, the better it is for you!, because you get promoted, the performance you can give to the army is better, among those positions, there are those of intelligence, to which I've dedicated my whole life.
Who knew ? A "simple mathematician," as my superiors called me, and what I became, and all for being at the right time, in the right place, Israel.
That was the place where my life really changed, in every way, a place so different from what I expected, with people who have always been fighting to survive.
Strangely, it was there where I discovered my roots, so far from my land or from my parents.
It seems like that it was yesterday when I said goodbye to them, almost without warning and after having thought about it a lot, during the long journey on that ship that took us to America, and then there, we had to go to register and from there, they picked us up.
At first everything was fine, in that growing community of Jews, they opened their doors, and shared what they had with all the newly arrived, including home and food.
My mother was very nostalgic, she hardly went out to the street, since she said that everything seemed very strange, she also had the difficulty of the language, so she feared that if some authority stopped her, she would not know what to answer, despite being already safe in a different country, she kept thinking about everything she had to leave behind.
My father, on the other hand, spent all his time outside, trying to find work, and although some of those new acquaintances had proposed him to work with them, he had rejected those proposals. I am not sure if it was pride, or not wanting to abuse more of the kindness of his brothers in the faith.
The problem is that neither of them spoke British, beyond a few words to greet, but not enough to develop their daily lives.
On the other hand, that didn't happen to me, my mother insisted since I was a child that I learn that language, which now suited me very well and served as an interpreter when needed.