Tisha B’Av, a day of mourning for the destruction of the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem, has come and gone this past Sunday. During the reading of Eicha, I, like many of you, could not help but think of the recent tragedies that have befallen our people: from the massacres of October 7, 2023, until right now, where the plight of some 20 hostages enduring unimaginable conditions in captivity continues amid the almost daily reports of IDF soldiers giving their lives in the battles of Gaza, most of them barely out of high school.
For this column, I thought I would exhibit another dark period in our history: the misery that much of Eastern European Jewry endured during World War I, as enormous numbers suffered from poverty, starvation, exposure, and mistreatment. Here from my personal collection are some items that are quite diminutive, ranging from the size of a nickel to about twice the size of a quarter, which to the casual observer could be dismissed as not that interesting – unless you take a close look and see that they reveal a great deal about what was occurring 110 years ago.
Concerned Jews in America organized to provide relief to devastated Jewish communities during World War I. In 1914, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee was formed. More organizations sprang up to help and offer aid, such as the People’s Relief Committee for Jewish War Sufferers and the Central Relief Committee for the Relief of Jews Suffering Through the War. Shown in the first photo are three celluloid (an early type of plastic) pinback buttons, each with an identical scene in the center; however the text differs on one from the other. Depicted are a seemingly endless line of Jewish refugees of all ages, fleeing their homes that are on fire. Their arms are outstretched to a female figure draped in the flag of the United States of America, who in turn extends her hand in a gesture indicating an offering to help.
The two buttons at bottom state “Central Jewish Relief Committee.” The larger one notes the New York address of its offices while the smaller example does not provide an address, but repeats the name of this organization, in Yiddish. The button above those two has an entirely different text on its outer rim, as it states in Hebrew, “The voice of your brother’s blood is crying out to me” (Genesis 4:10), and it continues, “The Jews Look To America For Help.” Presumably, a person received one of these buttons after giving a donation to the Central Jewish Relief Committee.
The second photo shown is another celluloid button, with no English text whatsoever save for a paper label inserted on the reverse stating it was made by the “Ehrman Mfg. Co.” of Boston. It features a bearded Jewish farmer carrying a scythe and walking towards a house, with Yiddish text that reads “Popular Jewish Help for Workers’ Homes in the War-Torn Lands.” I cannot locate any information regarding this organization; it’s possible that it was issued shortly after World War I had ended, to help the many thousands of Jews in desperate need of food and shelter.
The next item is a small, thin metal container wrapped in celluloid. It features graphics and text identical to the largest button previously seen, along with the now familiar name of the charitable organization. In the December 26, 1915 issue of The Washington Herald, on the front page “above the fold,” is the headline “Dime Banks Will Aid Jews To Raise Funds: Novel Plan Will Be Employed to Swell Collection for Hebrew War Sufferers.” The first part of the article reads as follows:
A novel plan of collecting the assistance of more than 100,000 collectors and of producing $250,000 for the relief of Jewish war sufferers will shortly be put in operation by the central committee for the relief of Jews suffering through the war. This committee has just received the first delivery of pocket dime-savings banks which will be distributed throughout the country in order that everyone may contribute to the fund being raised to relieve the distress of the Jews in Europe. Albert Lucas, executive secretary, has devised a simple but effective system of control, so that everyone who deposits a dime in one of the banks will be assured that the coin will reach the fund for the aid of the starving Jews across the water. The banks bear serial numbers by which the exact record is kept of the amounts collected and the names of the collectors. The keys of the 100,000 banks are kept by the local treasurer of the committee. One good feature of the banks is that they are about the size of a man’s matchbox and can be carried without difficulty in the coat pocket.
It is somewhat puzzling that the article states that 100,000 banks will be issued, as aside from my example, I am aware of only one other in private hands; this item is quite scarce. It’s possible such a large quantity of these dime banks were indeed made, but after they were filled and given to the “local treasurer of the committee,” they were not put in circulation again, and perhaps a year or two after the war ended, the emptied banks were thrown in the trash or destroyed outright, and the only extant examples left were those that were never dropped off by their owners.
The last piece is a dark blue colored celluloid button that has nothing to do with the topic at hand; however, it merits a place of respect for the conclusion of this discussion. The button states: “Welcome Committee For The Jewish Boys / Welcome Heroic 77-Division.” The 77th Infantry Division of the U.S. Army became known as “The Lost Battalion” during World War I. This nickname was earned during the Meuse-Argonne Offensive in October 1918, when a group of approximately 554 soldiers from the 77th Division became isolated and surrounded by German forces in the Argonne Forest. Despite their isolation and lack of supplies, they held their ground for several days, enduring heavy attacks and friendly fire before being rescued. Of the 554 soldiers who entered the Argonne Forest, only 194 walked out unharmed. The rest were killed, missing, captured, or wounded. The 77th was entirely made up of recruits from New York; about one-quarter of them were Jewish. Many distinguished awards for bravery were given to both the deceased and survivors of the 77th, including the highest award given for bravery, the Medal of Honor, to a Jewish soldier named Benjamin Kaufman, for his courageous actions during the fighting in the Argonne.
Although I have been unable to find other examples of this button, I managed to locate a poster expressing the same sentiments stated on the button, as shortly after the war ended, a welcoming committee was established for the Jewish soldiers of the 77th Division at the headquarters of The Hebrew Sheltering and Immigrant Aid Society (today known as HIAS), in New York City.
Let us pray that there are brighter days ahead for Am Yisrael.
