Dana: Adventures in a Troubled Land

By Edward W. Stepnick

Captivated by the notion of a Jewish homeland in Palestine, beautiful Dana leaves her well-to-do family in Poland to become a guard at a kibbutz in northern Galilee where she marries Hershel, an ex-soldier from Ukraine, and they raise two children. Later, the family moves to Tel Aviv and then to Jerusalem whereas a language expert for Jewish military intelligence unitsDanas adventures begin.

She uncovers an Arab-Nazi plot to exterminate the Jews in Palestine, entices a French foreign minister to relinquish abandoned Luftwaffe airplanes as World War II ends and Israels wars with the Arabs begin, seeks a traitor in Egypt and Greece, aids in the capture of a notorious Nazi war criminal, and translates secret messages from a famed Israeli spy that help Israel win the Six-Day War. And theres more . . .

Spanning the period from the 1920s to the 1990s, Dana outlines major events in Israels history and points to important issues that persist to this dayIsraels treatment of Arabs in the captured territories, secular versus Orthodox Jewry within Israel, and the quest for an enduring Middle East peace. The book also shares intimate moments between a wife and husband who are deeply in love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499049862

Edward W. Stepnick

Edward W. Stepnick grew up in Chicago and later lived in Silver Spring, Maryland, and in Sarasota and Venice, Florida. A graduate of Roosevelt University, a retired CPA, and former senior federal executive, his previous publications include articles in professional journals and contributions to technical reference volumes. Dana, published in 2014, was his fi rst novel. He now resides near Leesburg, Virginia.

Book preview

~ ONE ~

S occer is Poland’s favorite sport. Peter, the grocer’s seventeen-year-old son, had played it since he was four years old, kicking the ball around in the backyard with his older brother. Now, as captain of his high-school team, he yearned to be outside practicing with his teammates but instead he was stuck minding the store during his father’s weekly trip to the bank. He sat by the cash register, staring through the window at the people strolling by, terribly bored because there were hardly any customers. He smiled, however, as Dana approached from across the street, opened the screen door, and entered the store. Maybe the afternoon wouldn’t be a total loss after all!

Any young man, whether in Krakow, London, or for that matter Timbuktu, couldn’t help but view an attractive young lady like Dana with both admiration and desire. There was something special about her: a lovely expressive face, the blondish highlights in her wavy brown hair that shined in the glare of the store’s overhead lights, and those big blue eyes that sparkled when she smiled at you. And of course Peter couldn’t help but imagine the shapely curves that undoubtedly lurked somewhere beneath the layers of clothes that Polish women customarily wore. ‘Piękna pani,’ she was a beautiful lady!

She greeted Peter with a friendly nod and walked quickly toward the section of the store that displayed the fruits and vegetables. He followed her, asking, Can I help you find something, Dana? And when will we take a romantic walk together in Planty Park? She was in too much of a hurry, however, to respond to his silly teenage banter. It was late, soon it would rain, and she must rush home to help Momma prepare dinner so everything would be ready when Poppa came home from work. Besides, how could anybody really want to be with her the way she looked today? She was an absolute mess: her face was moist with perspiration; her hair must be wild because she’d neglected to brush it earlier; and the housedress she wore was old and discolored.

Never mind me, you silly boy! Where are the fresh fruits and vegetables you promised? she asked. During the summer, they were scarce; she never could understand why. Don’t the many small farms near Krakow grow fruits and vegetables? Maybe she should shop at the large grocery store near the Podorgze Main Square because it might have a bigger selection. No, she preferred to patronize the family-owned stores closer to home. Anyway, the only items that appeared decent were one large red ripe tomato and a single cucumber. The other items on her grocery list were available, however, and one bag was full to the top as she prepared to leave.

Peter stood up from his chair, adjusted the white apron he wore to keep his pants clean, and lifted the bag of groceries into Dana’s arms. I hope it’s not too heavy. Please, can I give you a little kiss good-bye? he asked.

Dana liked to tease Peter. "When you find my fresh fruits and vegetables, Peter, zobaczymy, we’ll see!" She smiled and waved good-bye as he held the screen door open and blew her a kiss.

Outside, the western sky looked ominous, the dark clouds impatiently waiting for an excuse to explode. The vivid lightning strikes on the horizon and the distant thunder were like the artillery fire during the war. The street seemed empty. All the other stores—the butcher shop, the bakery, the shoemaker, the hardware store, even the pharmacy on the corner—had closed in anticipation of a storm. Except for one little gray baby pigeon, apparently lost and frantically looking for its mother, all the local pigeons had sought shelter, too.

A person suddenly emerged from a foyer across the street. Who was this heavy-set man in a black cap and baggy blue pants who briskly approached her, stopping so close Dana could see the dark mole on his suntanned face and smell the sweet tobacco on his breath? While he wasn’t much taller than Dana, he looked muscular like the champion wrestler she’d once met at the university. His eyes were like narrow slits, rather frightening except he had a friendly smile on his face.

"Shalom," he greeted her. You’re Dana Wolfowicz, is that right? My name is Itze. Don’t be scared! Are you still interested in living in a kibbutz in Palestine? If so, I can help you. We’ll leave at two o’clock Tuesday morning from the church at the Podorgze Main Square. Please don’t be late! If you miss this opportunity, who knows when another will arise? And don’t tell anyone, not even your parents! Take only one piece of luggage with clothes. I can supply whatever else you need. Be prepared for a difficult journey. It’s a long way from Krakow to Palestine.

Assuming the stranger was a thief, Dana’s initial impulse was to holler for help. She hesitated, however, because Itze showed no interest in her purse or groceries. Also, he spoke in Hebrew, a language almost never used in Krakow where Polish, Yiddish, German, and Russian were the most common, and he mentioned Palestine where she’d yearned to go since she left the university two years ago.

I’m pleased to meet you, Itze, but I don’t understand, she said. The Jewish Agency told me only a limited number of Jews can legally enter Palestine from Poland. My name would be placed on a list but the agency couldn’t say when my time would come, indicating I might have a long wait. Has my name come up?

Itze reassured her. Trust me, Dana! I can get you safely to Palestine. If you want to check on who I am, call the Jewish Agency, extension 527. You’ll be asked your name and the phone number, wait by the telephone, and someone will call you back with a response.

He walked nonchalantly toward the usually calm Vistula River, now choppy because of the impending storm, a thick mist rising from the dark blue waters. Itze had a slight limp like many young men that had fought in the war. An old barge on the river blasted its foghorn, interrupting the maze of thoughts racing through Dana’s head.

Are you OK? Anna asked as Dana entered the front door, placed the groceries on the kitchen table, and sat for a moment to rest.

I’m fine, said Dana, only flushed from rushing to avoid the rain. It’ll be a big storm. Also, I was nervous because a nasty wasp stalked me the entire way home, hovering about two feet above me, waiting for the right time to dive into my neck.

Did it sting you? asked Anna.

No! Finally I stopped, looked at it sinisterly, shook my fist, and it hastily flew away.

Anna laughed. You were lucky. It was a timid wasp. She took a clean washcloth from the closet and wiped the perspiration from Dana’s face.

Their precious Dana—she and Eduard loved her so! Kind, sensible, and intelligent, she was everything a parent could want in a daughter except for one perplexing riddle. Why, at twenty-three years of age, didn’t she have a loving husband with whom to share marital delights, to keep her warm on cold winter nights, to be the father of her children? Look at her! Her physical assets alone should be enough to attract multiple suitors, not to mention her pleasant personality and keen intellect, although Anna doubted whether young men cared much if a woman was smart as long as she had an ample bosom and a nice round tush. Well, Dana had both!

Wouldn’t she and Eduard be the happiest people in Krakow if, on Sunday mornings, they could stroll by the Podorgze Main Square with Dana pushing a baby carriage and the passersby remarking, What a beautiful child? It’d be like long ago when Dana was a baby.

Eduard scolded Anna whenever she complained about Dana’s unmarried status, which was at least once a day. It’s not that he didn’t want Dana to get married, but why did Jewish mothers think a daughter’s marriage was the most important single thing in the whole world? Dana would marry when she was ready, when she found someone she truly loved. She was special and shouldn’t settle for merely anyone. However, he had to admit it was perplexing why, as attractive as Dana was, a dozen anxious young men weren’t lined up at their front door seeking her attention. Maybe because she was so appealing they assumed she was already spoken for, that someone else had captured her heart.

It was obvious Dana’s attractiveness came from Anna, certainly not from Eduard. Although in her forties, Anna still looked beautiful like when she was a young bride even in the old yellow housedress and the slightly dirty apron she wore in the kitchen. Tall and slim, her long light brown hair framed a gorgeous face with wide hazel eyes, high cheekbones, and full sensuous lips. Because of her ethereal beauty, she was often mistaken for an actress or a fashion model; people stared when she passed them on the street or entered a room.

Eduard had fallen in love with her when they first met at the university and she’d asked for help solving a group of mathematics problems assigned for homework. He later teased her, You were really more interested in me than in the mathematics problems, weren’t you? She’d laughed saying, What makes you think I’d like you more than cosines, tangents, and compound equations? They agreed to marry during their senior year. Although he called Anna his goddess, she insisted that term was inappropriate because a goddess wasn’t mortal and couldn’t enjoy marital relations like they did on a regular basis. "You’re too technical!" he complained.

Beauty was not Anna’s only outstanding attribute. Her unquenchable thirst for knowledge amazed even Eduard, who himself was a studious lawyer with a wide range of interests. But not like Anna! She wanted to know everything about everything, whether it was the political consequences of the Treaty of Versailles, Marie Curie’s amazing discovery of radium, or the latest silly fashions from Paris. Anna’s job as a librarian in the Krakow Public Library was either the cause or the consequence of her studiousness, Eduard wasn’t sure which.

The Wolfowicz’s large kitchen was the envy of their friends and neighbors. Look at its big cabinets, latest appliances, spacious counters, a pantry with shelves on three sides, and enough floor space for a table with four chairs! That’s where the three—Eduard, Anna, and Dana—usually ate except when they had guests for dinner. On those days and for special occasions, Anna served in the formal dining room centered by a long mahogany table and eight chairs with dark red velvet cushions. No matter what foods Anna prepared, they looked elegant on the patterned white china next to the polished silverware, shining crystal glasses, and linen napkins. She usually put a small crystal vase brimming with colorful flowers in the center of the table. Flowers make even the most austerely furnished house look bright and cheerful.

Their most frequent dinner guests were Asher, Anna’s father’s brother, and his wife, Leah, who also lived in Krakow. Anna loved them like they were her second Poppa and Momma because they’d watched over her while she was a student at the university, away for three years from her parent’s Warsaw home. Leah was the first in the family to be secretly told Anna and Eduard loved each other and planned to marry. Eduard’s parents, Abram and Elka, occasionally came for dinner also but not as often as Anna liked because Elka had difficulty walking and getting in and out of the car. She suffered from painful rheumatism.

Dana kept her eye on the klopsiki (meatloaf) in the oven while Anna sat at the table preparing a vegetable salad with the cucumber and tomato that Dana bought. While working with Dana in the kitchen, Anna was reminded of the times as a young girl when she’d helped her mother Golda, may she rest in peace, prepare their Orthodox Passover seders—elaborate ritual feasts with gefilte fish, chicken soup with matzo balls, brisket, kasha, macaroons, and compotes. The odors in the house were overwhelming; Anna had relished each breath. When she tried to snatch for herself a little nosh in advance, Golda would gently slap her hand saying "Styp‘ryş maidel, naughty girl, wait for dinner!"

Now, not religious, Anna and Eduard celebrated Passover only when they were invited to someone else’s seder, usually at the Warsaw apartment of her brother Eugen, the rabbi. Eduard was a Zionist who didn’t believe it necessary for Jewish people to observe religious practices.

He was wearing his customary gray three-piece suit, white shirt with a high starched collar, narrow gray tie, and shiny black shoes as he entered the house. On workdays, he always dressed the same. A speck shorter than Anna, a little paunchy at the waist, a slightly receding hairline, and large brooding eyes above a small pointed nose, Eduard certainly wasn’t the handsomest man in Krakow but insofar as Anna and Dana were concerned, he was quite pleasant to look at.

He kissed Anna and Dana on their cheeks. I’m soaking wet from the rain because I forgot to put an umbrella in the car. Let me change to something dry before we eat. It’ll only take a minute.

Put on the maroon velvet robe I bought you last Hanukkah, Anna suggested. It makes you look majestic like a royal prince and it’s nice and soft to my touch.

Dana couldn’t remember when she’d first heard the myth about the origin of Krakow. It was probably when she was a little girl, maybe three or four years old, while sitting in Poppa’s lap as he told her bedtime stories.

Once upon a time, during the seventh century, over a thousand years ago, there was this ruler named Krakus who wanted to establish a settlement for his people on Wawel Hill because it was superbly located in a valley along the banks of the Vistula River at the foot of the Carpathian Mountains. But the people were afraid to come because a huge hungry dragon lived in a nearby cave, and they feared it would roam around each night and gobble up all their sheep.

Well, this Krakus was an extremely clever ruler who didn’t repeat the earlier unsuccessful attempts by many of Poland’s bravest knights who’d tried to slay the dragon with a sword. Instead, Krakus killed the dragon by leaving a poisoned lamb near the cave for the dragon to eat. After the dragon’s death, droves of people came to Wawel Hill, the settlement grew and thrived eventually becoming our great city, which we’re extremely proud of. The name of Krakow comes from the ruler Krakus.

Of all the cities in Poland, only Warsaw, where Uncle Eugen and Aunt Paula live, is bigger than Krakow. People come from all over the world to see our historic Old Town because it reminds them of the days before you were born, when Poland and other European countries were ruled by royal monarchs. It was a time when a stately king and lovely queen would parade down the avenue in a royal carriage drawn by six big white horses while a hundred trumpets bellowed and cymbals clashed as the royal couple made its way to the royal castle.

Dana of course no longer needed Poppa’s bedtime stories to help her fall asleep. Ordinarily, she’d close her book, turn off the lamp, lie on her side, place a pillow between her knees, pull the blanket over her head, and wake up the next morning. When on those rare occasions she happened to dream, it was usually in connection with the book she was reading. For a romantic Jane Austen novel, the dream might substitute Dana for the principal female protagonist like Elizabeth in Pride and Prejudice. For a book about Polish history, Dana might be cast as Jadwiga of Angevin who married Ladislaus Jagiello, the Grand Duke of Lithuania, to help create the mighty Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.

But how could Dana sleep during the nights following her meeting with Itze? Except maybe in responding to a marriage proposal, when is a young lady ever required to make such a life-changing decision, one with so many uncertainties? Yes, Itze seemed sincere but could he really be trusted? Although someone supposedly representing the Jewish Agency had vouched for his legitimacy, who knows for sure? He still could be nothing more than a clever kidnapper seeking a ransom from her family. And was a secret trip smuggling her into Palestine an appropriate way to get there? Was it safe? Could she end up in jail?

Despite all the uncertainties, however, Dana really wanted to go! She was young and strong. To help build a Jewish homeland in Palestine had been her passion ever since learning about Zionism from Poppa and Grandpa Abram and studying history at the university. Jewish people deserve the opportunity to live in a country of their own. We have survived through many millennia while other civilizations have declined and perished. What other culture has produced the likes of Moses, Christ, Spinoza, Marx, Kafka, Freud, and Einstein? Whether or not Jews are God’s chosen people, aren’t we as deserving as the English, French, and American people who have countries of their own?

Dana worried, though, whether Momma and Poppa would ever understand why their only child would leave a comfortable life in Krakow to live in a faraway primitive country like Palestine. It’s not like she needed to escape from a hopeless life on the streets or from a crowded shack in the slums. She had her own cozy bedroom in a charming house situated on a quiet street lined with oak and birch trees not far from the southern banks of the beautiful Vistula River. She slept each night safe and warm in a soft bed with a view through her bedroom window of a well-trimmed oak tree, a home to woodpeckers, sandpipers, and warblers that chirped sweet melodies to lull her to sleep, drowning out the monotonous buzz of the noisy cicadas.

Further, from a financial point of view, Dana’s family was in excellent shape, more fortunate than most Jews in Poland. All were professionally trained: Poppa a lawyer like his father, Momma a librarian, and Grandpa Gerson a successful banker. Her financial security was assured if she stayed in Krakow whether she married or not. She’d never have to worry about where her next meal was coming from. Poppa was even the proud owner of a blue Buick touring sedan, the only luxurious car on their street. He liked to drive around the neighborhood tooting the horn but Momma scolded, Don’t be a big showoff!

What would she miss the most when she left for Palestine? Her closely knit family, of course—Momma and Poppa; two brothers, Rabbi Eugen and carefree Anton; Eugen’s wife, Aunt Paula, and their two children, Freda and Jozef; Grandpa Gerson; Uncle Asher and Aunt Leah—and of course, Eduard’s parents, Abram and Elka, and her dear friend Chaya. She loved them all but couldn’t periodic visits to see them be arranged?

True, she’d no longer be able to view Krakow’s picturesque Old Town, the famous Wawel Castle, and St. Mary’s Basilica nor experience those relaxing moments in Planty Park walking along a footpath or sitting on a bench gazing at the sunset, with the majestic mountains looming on the horizon. But she surely could find suitable alternatives somewhere in Palestine, maybe in ancient Jerusalem or more modern Tel Aviv. She’d also miss her volunteer work at the elementary school where, as a teacher’s assistant, she helped the young students learn to read, write, and speak foreign languages like English and French. But maybe she could do that in Palestine as well.

Further, resettlement will not erase her memories, some of them exceedingly special like her wonderful times with Grandpa Gerson who looked so distinguished with his expressive blue eyes, light gray hair, bushy eyebrows, and long thick beard. For her, he always had a big smile! His stories about Poland’s history were captivating. Poland was absolutely magnificent in the sixteenth century, he often said, when it was the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, a huge democratic country in east central Europe covering almost one million square kilometers.

How happy he was when he learned the partition of Poland between its powerful expansionist neighbors—Russia, Prussia, and Austria—had finally ended after 123 years! Yes, Dana, I drank a little too much wine and danced around the kitchen table swinging my Golda high up in the air, scaring her half to death. I think Eugen helped me to bed that night.

Tears came to Gerson’s eyes whenever he reminisced about his beloved city of Warsaw and his favorite places within it like the market square and the royal castle. Best of all were his stories about the Jewish neighborhood near Zamenhof and Nalewki streets where he lived as a child—horse-drawn carriages, peddlers’ pushcarts, porters, the Yiddish theatre, Gensza Cemetery, shuls, and Krashinsky Park where children played while adults argued about the issues of the day. Gerson once took her to visit the great synagogue on Tomackie Street, the largest and most beautiful temple in all of Warsaw, attended mostly by wealthy and highly educated people like professors. Only Polish, no Yiddish, was spoken there.

Also, how could she forget her long discussions with Uncle Asher, a short stocky man with a round face and bald head who didn’t at all resemble his older brother Gerson. He never stopped talking about his city, Krakow. How the Jews were blamed for starting a disastrous fire in 1494 that destroyed a large part of Krakow, so they were expelled to the nearby city of Kazimierz! How, as a defensive measure, they constructed interior walls; and lo and behold, as if by magic, the area between the interior and outer walls—known as the Oppidum Judaeorum—became famous as a spiritual and cultural center of Polish Jewry, hosting many of Poland’s finest Jewish scholars, artists, and craftsmen! Not until 1822 were the walls torn down, removing the last physical reminder of the old borders between Jews and Christians.

And never forget, Uncle Asher emphasized to Dana, the city of Krakow was the capital of the entire kingdom of Poland for over five hundred years. It was in Krakow’s main square in 1794 that the great patriot Tadeusz Kościuszko announced a general uprising against Austrian rule and assumed the powers of the commander in chief of all the Polish armed forces. It was also from Krakow that, at the outbreak of World War I, Józef Piłsudski formed a small military unit, the First Cadre Company, which grew to be the famed Polish legions that fought bravely for the liberation of Poland.

Yes, Uncle Asher was exceedingly proud of his native city of Krakow!

~~~~

Anna nestled in Eduard’s arms as they reclined on the living-room sofa. Did Dana seem to you unusually quiet this evening like she was worried or preoccupied about something? Eduard asked.

It must be simply because she was tired. After grocery shopping, she had to rush home to avoid the storm, said Anna.

~ TWO ~

A bove all else, Jewish families invariably rank the quality of their children’s education as a top priority, at least insofar as their sons are concerned. In Poland, the Orthodox Jews sent them to Heder to learn to read the Hebrew language, earnestly praying the eldest would enter a yeshiva afterward to study the Torah, Talmud, and other holy books and maybe become a learned and respected rabbi, a mensch that gave wise counsel to all who a sked .

The secular Jews placed less emphasis on a Jewish education, usually limiting it to a Sunday school that taught Jewish history and culture. They hoped at least one son would be smart enough to attend a university and ultimately graduate from a medical school and become a famous doctor, preferably a heart or brain surgeon who could miraculously bring the near-dead back to life.

For daughters, however, it was an entirely different matter. Whether or not the parents were religious, a Jewish daughter’s graduation from high school was generally considered as sufficient, hopefully to be followed by a marriage to a wealthy young man and then a house full of grandchildren. Anna and Eduard were among the few Jewish people that thought a mere high school diploma wasn’t good enough for daughters and certainly not for Dana. In addition to high school and Sunday school, she must attend a university like they did where she could prepare to become a teacher, nurse, or whatever profession she might favor. It’d be absolutely shameful to not take full advantage of the substantial intelligence with which she fortunately had been blessed.

Dana’s excellence as a student first became noticeable in Sunday school. Each Sunday morning, she accompanied Eduard on the long walk to her class, which met in an empty ex-grocery store with cracked walls and a damaged ceiling next to a narrow alley in the Swoszowicz section of Krakow. If the school’s Zionist sponsors could only have raised a few thousand more zlotys, the school could’ve been located in a nicer neighborhood where Dana’s class would’ve attracted more than only seventeen students.

The teacher, Mrs. Rabinowicz, usually wore a heavy grey wool sweater because the room was unheated, even in winter when the snow outside piled high against the building, the streets were slippery from layers of ice, and vehicles sometimes skidded onto the sidewalks scaring the pedestrians sloshing through the snow and slush. She was a large imposing lady in her forties with a stern face, black wavy hair, and huge eyeglasses that dangled from a chain around her neck except when a student answered a question incorrectly. In that unhappy event, she moved the eyeglasses to the bridge of her nose and glared menacingly at the erring student who of course longed to hide under the desk.

Who can tell me where the cradle of civilization was located? Little eight-year-old Dana waved her hand: It was in the land of Mesopotamia by the Tigris and Euphrates rivers.

That’s correct, Dana, and Palestine, where the Jewish people want to build a homeland, is near the cradle of civilization. That part of the world is where God created Adam and Eve and where Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob lived.

Although all Sunday schools taught Jewish history and stories from the Torah, Dana’s school also taught the students to read, write, and speak the Hebrew language. The school’s Zionist sponsors wanted Hebrew to be the homeland’s national language, which was possible of course only if Jews knew how to speak and read it. Dana became unusually proficient. When the family visited Uncle Eugen, the rabbi, in Warsaw, he and Dana always spoke to each other in Hebrew to help Dana practice. Also, as Dana read from her Polish schoolbooks, she’d mentally translate the sentences first into Yiddish and then into Hebrew and practice rewriting homework assignments in the Hebrew language.

Although the Sunday-school classes had planted the seed, it was Grandpa Abram more than anyone else who stimulated Dana’s interest in Zionism. Oh, how his face had lit up—almost as bright as one of those amazing new electric light bulbs—as he first explained it to her.

"Throughout the ages, my dear, the gentile people have generally disliked the Jewish people mostly because Jews are different and we have our own special religion. The dislike is called ‘anti-Semitism’ and it has led to the oppression and persecution of Jews throughout history. Well, the first-generation Zionists believed they could solve this problem of anti-Semitism by helping Jews to assimilate—to behave like non-Jews—so they abandoned the Orthodox religious practices of their parents and became