Rabbi's Orders: The Tiktinski Family Goes to Auschwitz

By Gideon Samid

Poland, Autumn 1942. Entire communities were guided by their rabbis to come to the local train station and board cattle trains which the rabbis said would take them to Auschwitz, a work camp ready with a local synagogue. The Tiktinski family, like others, entered into a fierce debate: to believe the rabbi? To board the train? The persistent rumors leaked the truth -- a horrible death ahead. The members of the family, all real people, the family of the playwright, found themselves in the turbulence of bad choices and disappearing hope. The play presents this conflict of opinions, this emotional fateful discussion that takes place before congregating at the train station, while waiting for the train, and finally, as the deadly gas chambers loom ahead. Six million Jews and countless Gentiles went through this horror. We ought to submit ourselves as witnesses to the cry of the abandoned to ensure it never happens again. "Never Again", requires attention to the Holocaust that was. This is the contribution of this play: "Rabbi's Orders"

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 4, 2024
• ISBN: 9798350941500

Gideon Samid

Gideon's writing is like a prayer, a sacred exploration of what breathes and hums below the math, under the technology, deeper than the engineering that occupy most of his waking hours. During the day Professor Gideon Samid (PhD, PE) is a front line engineer, building and designing stuff, planning: facilities, constructions, tools. With technology one creates comfort -- comfort to do what? With engineering one builds tools of convenience -- convenience to support a life lived for what purpose? These are questions that Gideon raises with the written word, with his unbridled literary pen, not shying from sharp, explicit, word pictures. Alas, this book is not a list of answers, but a tally of a succession of struggles, a list of frequent enigmas, a story of unreasonable hope, a sequence of persistent illusions. This book is a roadmap of trying and trying again. This is Part I of the series "Consequential Milestones in the Life of Samuel Soul". Here, the story points to milestones of sexual intimacy, and the emotional volcano that comes with it. Gideon was born in Jerusalem, was raised and served in Israel, and then developed his engineering career in the US (NASA, Exxon, The Pentagon, University of Maryland, Case Western Reserve University) where he presently lives. Gideon's grown children and grandchildren are spread out in Israel and in the US. His wife left him after 27 years of marriage, yet a gentle soul lifted him up from his misery into a most beautiful togetherness. Dolores' love and commitment unleashes a dormant creativity. Momentum builds, light shines. Gracias!

Book preview

Rabbi’s Orders

A Holocaust Story of Fatal Obedience, and Belated Defiance

A Play in Six Acts

Setting

Bialystok, Poland, autumn 1942. Jews organize for an orderly transportation to German labor camps. The Tiktinski family debates its course of action.

The stage is gradually lit up, exposing a painted sign (mounted on a tripod): Bialystok, Poland, 1942 with a depiction of the Jewish city.  Next to the sign is placed a prayer stand behind which a Jewish rabbi is bending, swaying and reciting an indistinct prayer. This is Rabbi Rosenblum. A whining violin plays in the background. The sign and the prayer stand are placed one-third off the stage from its right end.

A few seconds later, from the left edge of the stage, a young girl walks in. (She is Sara in the play). Cowered, bent, hesitant, holding in her hands a sign that says: Act 1: In the Kitchen. As she reaches next to the chanting rabbi, she stops. She looks at the rabbi, and a shot is being heard.  Sara falls to the ground, the violin stops abruptly.  The sound of the ‘shofar’ is heard piercing the air – short and strong.  The stage becomes dark.

This opening can be carried out in the front of the stage while the curtain remains drawn. This arrangement is especially helpful when it is repeated before every act so that behind the curtain the stage can be prepared for the coming act.

The other five acts are each announced by one of the play characters carrying a sign with the name of the act. They walk towards the chanting rabbi, a shot is heard and they fall on the ground. The characters appear in the following order: Act 1: Sara, Act 2: Yehuda, Act 3: Israel, Act 4: Frida, Act 5: Eliyahu, Act 6: Shimon.

ACT ONE: IN THE KITCHEN

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Setting: A typical low middle class Polish Jewish family kitchen. The furniture is old, in need of a new coat of paint, but well scrubbed and clean. Mother Frida wipes dry the bowls she just finished cooking dinner with. Age 48, she is frightfully thin, with a burdened face, highly wrinkled but glowing eyes. Her husband, Eliyahu, walks in with a heavy stride, slightly limping, while perusing a full size printed sheet of paper held in his hands. A 52 years old school teacher, Eliyahu carries himself with beaming presence, but not today.  His normal ruddy face is pale, his familiar confronting chin is hanging listlessly below his face. Sitting himself heavily on his old chair at the head of the kitchen table, he mumbles as he reads.

Frida:

[subdued voice, without turning her head] What is it now, Eliyahu?

Eliyahu:

Thursday morning, 7:00 a.m., two small suitcases for each adult.

Frida:

What? Thursday morning? Where? What is it about?

Eliyahu:

By the cargo rail. Relocation—relocation, woman. The rumors turn to be true, what do you know!

[Frida drops a glass, which breaks noisily. She ignores it, turns around, and sits by the table next to her husband].

Frida:

Us? This Thursday? By whose orders?

[Her husband is nonresponsive.]

Frida:

Answer me! Who says we need to report Thursday morning at the cargo rail?

Eliyahu:

The Judenrat, the leadership, the rabbi.

Frida:

Rabbi Rosenblum?

Eliyahu:

Yes, who else? Rabbi Akiva? He is dead. We have one rabbi, and these are his orders, in writing, black on white. The Weinsteins received the same letter, the Moshkoves also. We have no choice. We have to lock the house tight and well, make sure there is no leftover food, or anything that can rot, or attract rats, because we don’t know when we will be back.

Frida:

So the rabbi thinks it is best for us to do what the Nazis want, and help them against America and England?

Eliyahu:

Woman, what is it with you? We are in very deep trouble. You will not be able to wish and pray yourself out of this one. Our very lives are in danger. And it is very smart for the rabbi to make us valuable to the Reich by offering our sweat and labor. Centuries of survival wisdom speak from his lips. Yes, woman, the hour is pitch dark and the rabbi is our best hope.

Frida:

What will we have to do? It’s not manual labor, I would not think, would you? What can we Jews do for the Reich?

Eliyahu:

I don’t know Fridush, I don’t know. I have a very bad feeling about all this. Who knows what the Nazis—erased be their name—have in mind for our future, if any.

Frida:

I don’t like it either, Elush dear. Remember my late father, Menachem, he always said that we Jews are trembling like leaves in the wind, whimpering, complaining, whining, envisioning the worst; always maneuvering ourselves into the role of the victim. And here we go again—

Eliyahu:

What are you saying, woman?! What are you suggesting? Did we invent Hitler—did we invite him to our homes? We are crying and praying because reality has been tough on us. It’s not because of our attitude; it is the cause of our attitude.

Frida:

I don’t know, Eli. Did you notice the delicate red and yellow on the trees down the street? Did you stop to listen to the birds chirping in the early morning? It is autumn.  There is so much beauty around. I think you should think of all that a bit—it would brighten your outlook.

Eliyahu:

You are annoying, woman! I wish I could spare some attention to the chirping birds, but my mind is on our very survival, our lives, Frida dear. Our very existence is at risk, and it is so bad that Rabbi Rosenblum had no choice but to order us to leave our home, our city, our synagogue, and place our fate in the hands of the Nazi troopers, who may use us for labor, definitely manual labor, or, God forbid, may just shoot us. Do you know what horror stories are whispered around on the street?!

Frida:

That’s what I am talking about, Elush. We had Hitlers come and go, and the Jews always survived. Let’s be positive—let’s find the bright side!

Eliyahu:

Woman—there is no bright side. It’s dark, complete darkness all over. Is Srulik going to come over for dinner?

Frida:

Yes, sure, by seven o’clock. Why? Do you want to lay this awful news on him too?

Eliyahu:

My dearest wife companion, it’s laid on him. The rabbi’s letter includes him. He too has to be by the cargo rail, seven o’clock in the morning, on Thursday.

Frida:

Could you, at least, respect my cooking,