Your email is not valid
Recipient's email is not valid
Submit Close

Your email has been sent.

Click here to send another

The Great War’s Jewish Soldiers

On Veterans Day, I remember my grandfather, who fought in World War I as a Jew and an American

Print Email
Pvt. Benjamin Feinstein. (Courtesy of the author)

When I was growing up, raised by Reform Jewish parents in a secular community in Columbia, Md., my sister and I used to ask each other, “Are you Jewish first or American first?” In truth, the hyphen could have gone one way or the other, Jewish-American or American-Jewish, depending upon the circumstances each one of us presented.

Before their World War I service, my grandfather Benjamin Feinstein and my husband’s grandfather Joseph Sandweiss probably wouldn’t have considered such a question. Immigrants who left their homes in Eastern Europe a century ago to escape poverty, persecution, and conscription, both men lived in America’s Jewish ghettos, segregated and identified as Jews whether they liked it or not. Just a few years later, both young men spent 1917-18 at war. Benjamin served with the American army in France, while Joseph joined the Jewish Legion and served with the British forces on the Middle Eastern Front.

In his book The Long Way Home, David Laskin recounts the experiences of immigrant soldiers who represented one-fifth of the U.S. Armed Forces in World War I. He writes, “In many cases just a few years or even months separated their arrival at Ellis Island from their induction in the American Expeditionary Forces. The coincidence profoundly altered the course of their lives.” For Benjamin and Joseph, did their experiences in the Great War shift their perceptions of themselves as Jewish or American? Before their military service, Benjamin and Joseph probably could have never even entertained the question I posed to my sister. But as we mark Veterans Day—originally known as Armistice Day, set on Nov. 11 to commemorate the signing of the armistice that ended World War I in 1918—I am left to wonder about their military service and how it may have influenced their acculturation and shaped their Jewish and American identities.


In 1897, 4-year-old Benjamin journeyed from his native Warsaw with his mother and sister to join his father in Philadelphia. By the time Benjamin was 6, his parents, Annie and Nathan, added a second son, Louis, to their brood. The family moved to New York, entering the garment business like so many other Eastern European Jewish immigrants. But Benjamin wasn’t interested in his father’s corset shop. Benjamin’s education ended at about age 10 when he went to work as a painter. His great passion, however, was boxing. Small and compact, he was a skilled street fighter with a temperament to match. It was only to honor his mother’s wishes that Benjamin retired his boxing gloves. Still, the fiery young man was known to pick bar fights that frequently ended in brawls. Family legend has it that he even beat future lightweight professional boxer Benny “Ghetto Wizard” Leonard in a street fight.

Yiddish recruitment poster for the Jewish Legion

A recruitment poster for the Jewish Legion featuring the ”Daughter of Zion.“ The text reads, “Your Old New Land must have you! Join the Jewish regiment.”

Joseph, my husband’s grandfather, was by all accounts also a strong-willed young man. Born two years after Benjamin, Joseph grew up in the Russian town of Bereznitz. Sent by his family to cheder with the intention of training to be a cantor, Joseph was more interested in the penny broadsides hidden inside his books than the religious texts he was supposed to study. By age 15, Joseph was eager to leave his village, where boys his age were routinely rounded up and conscripted by the Russian army, a dire circumstance for any Jewish boy. Joseph’s older brother hid in a cellar to avoid the tzar’s draft, eventually dying from an illness he contracted there. Joseph instead made his way to Warsaw, working and walking his way across Europe. Finally, he saved enough to reach England, where a Jewish refugee agency helped him travel to the United States in the hopes of being reunited with his uncle, Shlamie Sandweiss, who lived in Detroit and ran a rooming house. Once he arrived, Joseph took a job sorting glass in a bottle yard and attended night school to learn English. Joseph and his fellow roomers were idealistic young men with Zionist ideals. Perhaps influenced by the Yiddish-language posters recruiting men for the all-volunteer Jewish Legion—serving under British rule in Ottoman-occupied Palestine—21-year-old Joseph was first in line to enlist in the British-led unit at Detroit’s recruiting office after war broke out in Europe.

Meanwhile, in November 1917, Benjamin, like some 40,000 other men in New York, began military training at Camp Upton on Long Island, which he described as a “second cold to the North Pole.” Benjamin’s parents and siblings sent socks and gloves, along with pleas to come home when he had a day off. In addition to exchanging letters, the family visited Camp Upton on several occasions. That December, Rabbi Schulman of New York’s Beth-El Synagogue addressed the Camp Upton recruits: “The Maccabeean spirit is the spirit of what is best in Israel’s history. … The Almighty is testing it in this terrible furnace of this great world-war. Death is not the worst evil. The worst evil is so to degrade life as to cling to it like a whipped slave rather than to rise and fight for everything that makes life worthy.”

Benjamin didn’t try to hide some of the realities of warfare from his family. In his letters, which are in my father’s safekeeping, Benjamin wrote his brother Louis about the equipment he encountered during training: “Dear Brother, as I see you take an interest in warfare, let me explain a few things. About the gas mask. It is made of rubberized goods and the eyes through which you look are made of glass. You breathe through your mouth as there is a pair of pinchers which is the mask which fits tight about your nose. And right under your chin, there is a rubber pipe, which is connected to a tin box. It can protect you for 17 hours. After that it is no good. I had it on for about a half-hour and I nearly choked. But the average time they wear it is eight hours, which is the rule on the European battle front.” By February 1918, Benjamin and his unit were in active service in France where they kept the railroad tracks in good shape and supplied the boys in the trenches with ammunition and supplies. On Aug. 2, 1918, he reported, “As I am writing this letter, I can hear the roar of the Artillery.”

Meanwhile, Joseph began his Jewish Legion training just across the Detroit River in Canada, at Fort Edward near Windsor, Ontario. One of 5,000 North American enlistees, Joseph served alongside David Ben-Gurion, future prime minister of Israel. Joseph’s master sergeant, a burly Irish fellow, frequently taunted and berated his Jewish charges, provoking them to fight. Finally, one day, Joseph agreed. Outskilled, Joseph had to rely on his wits to have any chance of winning the fight. As he faced his rival, Joseph bent down and threw a fistful of sand in his opponent’s face, followed by a quick punch to the blinded fellow. The response was not what Joseph expected; from that moment on, Joseph received the Irishman’s respect. Still, confused by the strong English and Irish accents he encountered, Joseph and many of his fellow soldiers reverted to speaking Yiddish and Russian, which divided them from their British counterparts. By August 1918, Joseph and the rest of the 39th Battalion of the British Fusiliers arrived in Egypt, one of three Jewish Legion groups in place to capture Palestine from the Turks.

From the European front, Benjamin still wrote frequently to his parents and siblings, even dispensing brotherly advice to his sister Frances and his brother Louis. “Sister … it is my greatest wish that you take an example of married life from our dear mother and father … And follow their advice in everything they tell you, as they know the game from A to Z. And this should be followed by my dear brother in college life and later in married life.” Benjamin’s service was not without its pleasures. Like other doughboys, he used his time off to travel to Paris, Nice, and Monte Carlo. “Oh, boy, oh, joy what a time,” he wrote his brother. It is apparent that the joyful times included a girl. Marie Giane Galleti, whose letter (which my father had translated from Italian) is also among my grandfather’s papers, wrote to the American serviceman: “I think night and day of you and I believe that you also think of me. It would give me a lot of pleasure to have news from you. A thousand kisses.” Despite the excitement of the romance, it may have been a revelation to the Jewish boy that he was fully accepted as an American soldier, transcending the religious and ethnic divides that characterized his childhood.

The war drew to a close amid fierce fighting. On Sept. 19, 1918, Joseph’s battalion attacked the Turkish army in the Battle of Megiddo, emerging victorious; it was only another month before Turkey surrendered. Within days, Benjamin’s division in France began preparing for the Argonne offensive, a three-month battle that took place in the rugged French terrain. The battle was to be one of the last of the war, and one of the deadliest. Over 100,000 Americans lost their lives. Fighting alongside the French and British, American men were surrounded by the sounds of machine guns and airplanes. The Allies progressed, capturing areas formerly held by Germany. Finally, on Nov. 11, 1918, the armistice was signed; celebrations in Paris included marching, singing, and shouting.

After his discharge, Pvt. Benjamin Feinstein returned with his unit to New York. He worked for the rest of his life as a commercial painter, a patriotic and proud American to the core, only stopping for a time during World War II to work at the Brooklyn Naval Yard. Benjamin married Bessie Silverman, and the couple raised two sons. His eldest son was drafted and served in the Pacific during World War II; his younger son, my father, served stateside in the Air Force during the Korean conflict. Like many young men, both boys used the G.I. Bill to help them complete college and attend law school.

Joseph, like many of his fellow Jewish Legionnaires, contracted malaria and suffered from shell shock. After some time in British military hospitals, he was discharged in 1919 and returned to Detroit, where he resided for the rest of his life, running a grocery store. Joseph’s war memories were mixed, filled with both pride and distress. At one point, he traveled to Israel and received a medal for service from Golda Meir. Ultimately, however, Joseph’s daily life was punctuated by jumpiness, outbursts, and sensitivity to loud noises, undoubtedly the legacy of what we now call PTSD. Joseph married fellow immigrant Sarah Norber and fathered two girls and two boys, several of whom grew committed to Zionism, perhaps inspired by their father’s service.

While Benjamin and Joseph served in different armies and on different fronts, they shared a key experience: the experience of democracy and belonging. The words of Yitzak Liss, a Jewish Legion member, express this sentiment well.

April 29, 1919: Today is the anniversary of a year of my service, a good year for me. I don’t think I will forget it, ever. A year of joys and suffering in full measure. It seems that only yesterday I said good-bye to my dearest. … The best I saw of army life is that one can live in equality, in the battalion, especially our Jewish battalion where people from all corners of the globe with different views, knowledge and trades live together, sleep, eat, dress alike, a true democracy in this respect.

Looking back, I now realize that when my sister and I played the “American first or Jewish first?” game, we forgot something critically important. We forgot to thank our grandfather and men like him for making the choices that allowed two little Jewish girls to ask the question in the first place.


Like this article? Sign up for our Daily Digest to get Tablet Magazine’s new content in your inbox each morning.

Print Email

Daily rate: $2
Monthly rate: $18
Yearly rate: $180

Tablet is committed to bringing you the best, smartest, most enlightening and entertaining reporting and writing on Jewish life, all free of charge. We take pride in our community of readers, and are thrilled that you choose to engage with us in a way that is both thoughtful and thought-provoking. But the Internet, for all of its wonders, poses challenges to civilized and constructive discussion, allowing vocal—and, often, anonymous—minorities to drag it down with invective (and worse). Starting today, then, we are asking people who'd like to post comments on the site to pay a nominal fee—less a paywall than a gesture of your own commitment to the cause of great conversation. All proceeds go to helping us bring you the ambitious journalism that brought you here in the first place.

Readers can still interact with us free of charge via Facebook, Twitter, and our other social media channels, or write to us at Each week, we’ll select the best letters and publish them in a new letters to the editor feature on the Scroll.

We hope this new largely symbolic measure will help us create a more pleasant and cultivated environment for all of our readers, and, as always, we thank you deeply for your support.

Interesting piece. And great story telling.

lenny46 says:

I guess reading a story like this, is the real reason I like Tablet Magazine. This story was about somebody else, yet was so much in my own time line. I remember asking my grandfather questions he never wanted to answer, and given the losses, I understand why. This was a “good read” for me.

Thank you for sharing a wonderful story!! xo

Depressingly, there are some who argue that America’s entry into WW1 helped create the lopsided victory that allowed punitive conditions to be imposed on Germany…and we all know what came after that. So there’s a cruel sense in which their sacrifice may have been in vain.

Interestingly, the Russians were the most viciously antisemitic nation in this war, to the point where many Zionist leaders supported the Germans. 100,000 Jews served in the German army…and were rather dismayed to find, a few decades later, that nobody cared.

Helen Maryles Shankman says:

Wonderful story. And I hung this poster in my sukkah this year!

I found it odd that no mention was made of Australian General Sir John Monash, commander of Australian forces, Europe, during the Great war (1914-18) under whose command American troops were placed. Most Americans don’t know that US soldiers came under Australian command during WW1, nor that the Australian General and Chief of Staff, whom Churchill called “the greatest general of the great War”, was Jewish. Sir John got some anti-Semitic stick from fellow, mostly British, senior officers but he was beloved by his men – British, Australian and American as he fought the war not as a slaughter-house but with stretegic life saving and protecting logistics. Before being placed under General Monash’s command, the poorly trained Americans were being used as cannon-fodder. The US and Australia have been close friends and allies for a very long time – it may be the US’s oldest allience – and US troops under Australian command (and vice-versa – as is currently happening in Afghanistan and other theatres) is just another aspect of this long-standing relationship.

Mr. Joachim,

Thanks for reading and for sharing this information…. I look forward to learning more about General John Monash, especially since my mother’s family ended up emigrating to Australia.

    Dearest Naomi,
    there are extensive details on the life and times of Sir John Monash, you might like to try the Australian War Memorial – Canberra website, or there is a site / doco devoted to famous Australian Jews – we’ve had two Governors-General who’ve been Jewish, along with a number of highly decorated military leaders. judges, politicians, business leaders and so forth [the things you can do in a nation that has never had any overt anti-Semitism] and Jews make up .05% of the population. My wife and I (we are pretty old in the post 65 generation) are part of a growing Jewish community in the far northern Australian tropics (Cairns, QLD) called YACHAD (‘Together’) and consists of Jews from almost every tradition and ethnic background – we have Iraqi, Syrian and Lebanese Jews, North African, European (Ashkenasi), Russian, British, Orthodox (and some very unorthodox), Haradi and secular, and, guess what? We all like each other and get along. We will eventually create an ‘open shule’ – a trans-denominational synagogue. Maybe it’s because we are laid back Aussies. Loved your story about your grandpas, you write very well, to where in Oz did your mother’s family emigrate? Blessings and best wishes to you, your family and the good people at Tablet.

Hello & Shalom Naomi,
now that we have an e-mail address for you I’ll get our President Uzi Barnai to add you to our newsletter list, you’ll be the first off mainland Oz to get it. You’d love Uzi, family escaped from Iraq some 30 years ago, moved to Israel where Uzi became a Special Forces Commando, he moved to Australia after war service and became a dive master here on the Great Brrier reef. He’s now married to the beautiful Katia, former Russian ballet dancer and they have two beautiful daughters, 5 and 3 whom I think my wife wishes to kidnap – I blame the granny hormones. What else have you written, I think I told you you write very well. Me, when I was working I was called an Epigrapher, a kind of archaeologist who deals with ancents rexts and fragments. You can find my books on Kindle.
Regards and blessings, Richard-Rafael

John D. Wilson says:

Please be advised that the following statement in the article is incorrect.

Meanwhile, Joseph began his Jewish Legion training just across the Detroit River in Canada, at Fort Edward near Windsor, Ontario

The Jewish Legion training actually took place in Fort Edward, Windsor, Nova Scotia.

ivor samuels says:

good story but dont exaggerate the role of the Jewish Legion in the Palestine campaign. Jerusalem had been liberated by the time they arrived in Palestine having disembarked in Alexandria and marched cross the Sinai – like the children of Israel exodus from Egypt! My father who was in the 38 royal fusiliers largely raised in the Jewish East End of London told me he spent most of his time guarding Turkish prisoners and the most dangerous enemy was malaria .

Jeff Carpenter says:

100,000 Americans lost their lives in the battle for Argonne? Doesn’t sound correct—though war and death are hardly worthy of quibbling. One death is too many.


Your comment may be no longer than 2,000 characters, approximately 400 words. HTML tags are not permitted, nor are more than two URLs per comment. We reserve the right to delete inappropriate comments.

Thank You!

Thank you for subscribing to the Tablet Magazine Daily Digest.
Please tell us about you.

The Great War’s Jewish Soldiers

On Veterans Day, I remember my grandfather, who fought in World War I as a Jew and an American