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“Gentlemen,” he thundered, “this is not how we pray! A little respect for holiness! A little respect for Judaism! Tomorrow I want every man who served in the army as a cantonist to come to the prayer hall in full dress uniform — clean and orderly — and ensure their families come with them as well!”
The next day, the synagogue was filled to overflowing. Especially striking were the cantonists, who came dressed in their pressed military uniforms, proudly wearing the medals and decorations they had earned through their many years of service. Their boots were polished, and their caps sat on their heads at perfect military angles.
The prayers began without disturbance, and soon came the time for the shofar. Before Rabbi Yerachmiel approached the bimah to blow, Fogel delivered a short address:
“Soldiers!” he began, “for twenty-five years we served in the army, drilled thousands of hours, endured wars and hardships — and all for what? For a mortal king of flesh and blood! Can we not then stand with the same discipline before the King of Kings, the Holy One, blessed be He?!”
Fogel commanded the uniformed veterans to stand at attention, tall and upright, as in a military formation. Once everyone was in place, he turned to Rabbi Yerachmiel and said: “Now blow!” The shofar blasts were carried out to perfection.
From that Rosh Hashanah onward, the community of Petrozkovtsk adopted a unique custom — to hear the shofar blasts while wearing their uniforms, year after year.
When Rabbi Yerachmiel Chadash later recounted the story of the uniforms and the shofar to the Rebbe Rayatz (Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak of Lubavitch) and the tale brought a glow of joy to the Rebbe’s face. It was clear that the simple, heartfelt sincerity of the cantonists had deeply touched him as well.
