CASABLANCA, PASSOVER
We were in a static position, our guns were emplaced in an anti-aircraft
phase and stationed around the harbor as protection against a hostile
air attack. We, of Jewish faith had obtained leave to attend the
passover Seder. Previously, my friend had met a Jewish family, Mr. and
Mrs. Hatchwell, and we received an invitation to attend this religious
function.
They lived on the third floor of an apartment building located fairly
close to the harbor. Conducting the Seder was a full bearded
patriarchal Sephardic grandfather and in attendance was Mr. and Mrs.
Hatchwell, a son and daughter, and we two American soldiers. Suddenly,
the wail of the air raid siren was heard indicating the approach of
hostile aircraft. The family arose and gazed uncertainly at grandfather
and I whispered to my friend, "Lets get the hell out of here." At the
sound of the air raid siren, all residents are instructed to proceed,
post haste, to their nearest assigned abri (air raid shelter). The
grandfather, in a strident voice, roared first in French and then in
broken English, "Sit down this is Passover. God will protect us."
The Seder proceeded. An armada of German Dornler bombers flew over the
harbor area and deposited their load of bombs. The thunderous crash of
exploding bombs was so intense that we could sense the vibration and the
blast of the explosions. The lights flickered off and on but the Seder
ceremony continued. I will be the first to admit that this was my
baptism to hostile action and I was petrified with fear. As an aside,
fear is a constant state during stressful situations but a greater fear
is apparent. You suppress this panic and you atttempt to appear
unconcerned. The Seder was finally completed, and my friend and I
departed with a feeling of awe and respect for this grand old gentleman
deeply imbued with his fate in the knowledge that no harm would befall
those who attended this holy event.
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