At the Agudas Yisrael Camp
Reb Yitzchak Beirach Daskal related:
I heard my father tell the miraculous story of his rescue and journey to Eretz Yisrael numerous times.
In the summer of 5706/1946, I joined the Agudas Yisrael youth camp in Grosswardein. Rabbi Shlomo Yaakov Gross, a relative who later was appointed as an MK for Agudas Yisrael, headed the camp. He urged us to join the camp and undergo training ahead of aliyah to Eretz Yisrael.
Illegal Immigrant Ships
The British, who controlled Eretz Yisrael at the time, did not allow anyone to enter the country unless they obtained a special permit — which was given only to a handful of people, and only with specified conditions that had to be met. The Jews, who had been saved from the death camps in Europe, were helpless in the face of the rigorous immigration policies in Eretz Yisrael.
Many were not afraid of the British, and tens of thousands of people made aliyah illegally, hiding on rickety cargo ships. The British searched for them relentlessly, and planes constantly flew over the sea along the naval route to Eretz Yisrael.
The ships that traveled to Eretz Yisrael illegally were called “Ma’apilim” ships, or illegal immigrant ships. I was one of thousands of illegal immigrants who merited to reach Eretz Yisrael through this channel.
And that was where Reb Shmuel’s amazing story began.
The Rafiach
It was the beginning of the winter of 5707 (November 1946) and I heard information about the impending departure of an illegal aliyah ship to Eretz Yisrael. I was told there was just one place left on the ship. I davened that that place would become mine, since I yearned to go to the Land of our ancestors. The idea of living in a foreign land repulsed me; the purity of the Holy Land called to me. I felt my very being and emotions drawn to it. My tefillos were accepted, and to my great joy, I received that sole spot.
It was a dark night. Inky blackness prevailed, but in my heart, there was a shining light: tonight, I would depart for the Holy Land.
The message regarding the departure spread rapidly among the members of the group. I gathered my few possessions and waited with anticipation for night to fall. At midnight, we heard the sound of trucks approaching.
“Board quietly!” the organizers instructed us. “No singing during the ride. Maintain absolute silence!”
The passengers crowded onto the trucks, which were then draped with dark covers. The windows were closed so the human cargo should not be detected. The convoy began driving towards the port of Bakar in Yugoslavia.
From the trucks, we were led to the belly of an aging ship, the Rafiach. It was a very rickety ship, narrow and small. The ship had quite a history. It had been hit and sunk, drawn out of the water, repaired and refurbished, and equipped with a new engine.
The passengers took their places on crowded bunks. In just a short time, the entire compartment became stiflingly hot. Outside, a cool wind blew, but it did not penetrate inside. The passengers longed to breathe a bit of fresh air, but the orders were unequivocal — no going out onto the deck!
The deck was piled with crates and barrels to give the impression of a cargo ship. The ship raised anchor and departed. It was Tuesday, 3 Kislev 5707/November 26, 1946.
Only with a Sefer Tehillim
I was sixteen years old when I left my family, not knowing when I would see them again.
I had no one to guide me or support me; I was utterly alone. Yet, my faith in the Ribbono shel Olam armed me with tremendous fortitude, and that was what gave me the ability to be undeterred by the unknown. I drew all my koach from Hashem, to Whom I constantly turned. I had just a few material possessions, among them my tefillin and a Sefer Tehillim.
I didn’t try to befriend the other boys on the ship. I sat alone in my isolated corner, held my Sefer Tehillim, and davened to my Creator with tears pouring from my eyes. I said Tehillim the whole time and repeated the chapters dozens of times. I sensed that this trip would not be easy and in order to survive it, I would need a lot of siyata diShmaya. I didn’t imagine that the problems would begin quite so quickly.
Jam and Sardines
The sea raged and stormed, the waves rose and fell. In the belly of the Rafiach, roiling in the churning sea, there were 785 illegal passengers! The Greek sailors tried to stabilize the rickety ship and navigate through the waves, but they realized that in such a storm, they would not be able to sail out to the open sea. Therefore, they first traveled through the Dodecanese Islands around Greece.
After a few days of traveling, seasickness began to spread through the ship. The constant pitching and yawing of the ship, as well as the harsh conditions, had an inevitably negative impact on the passengers.
Food was distributed sparingly, in small portions: dry crackers, toast, and yellow cheese. When these foods ran out, we received rock-hard pitas, which we dipped into canned sardines or jam. We ate the same meal three times a day.
The Ship Begins to Sink Near Syrna
Friday, 13 Kislev 5707/December 6, 1946
Furious waves crashed onto the hull of the weak ship trying to propel its way through the Aegean Sea. The storm intensified. Through that night, the ship just sailed in circles and did not advance at all. On Shabbos morning, 14 Kislev/December 7, the seas finally calmed. The ship made progress in the placid waters, and we were very pleased.
But we quickly learned that our joy was premature and that a new storm was approaching. “We are going to try and take refuge in an inlet,” the captain announced. There were many Greek islands scattered in the area, and we could take refuge on one of them until the storm passed.
The Rafiach began sailing towards one of these islands, and then—CRASH!! The ship trembled mightily and water began pouring in from the bottom. The ship was thrown from side to side as the passengers looked on, horrified and wide-eyed. They began to scream in fright, and the terror just increased as they looked towards the shore. Land was just a few dozen yards away. It was the island of Syrna, but the coastline looked more like a wall of rock than a sandy beach!
The ship kept getting thrown about and was on the verge of breaking apart. A rescue plan was needed — and there wasn’t a moment to lose!
A Fold in the Sefer Tehillim
Here, my father fell silent and paused. We sensed that he was selecting his words carefully.
My place was on the bottom level of the ship. I did not see the breach where the water was pouring in, but I knew the situation was dire and, with tears streaming from my eyes, I kept saying Tehillim. In my mind’s eye, I pictured my mother, my father, and the Pashkaner Rebbe. I was terrified that these were my last moments on this earth. I was so engrossed in the spiritual world of the Tehillim that I did not notice what was transpiring around me.
I lifted my eyes for a moment and realized that the entire lower level of the ship — where I was — was absolutely deserted!
What had happened that everyone had gone? I looked around in alarm, marked a fold in my Sefer Tehillim, put the sefer on the shelf, and went to find out what was going on. I was still planning to return to my Tehillim, picking up from where I’d left off — but I quickly realized that the ship was sinking!
The Ship Sinks but the Passengers Are Saved
A few crew members jumped into the water and swam to the shore. They clambered up on the rocks and stood facing the ship. The sailors on the ship tossed them a thick rope, and the crew on the island tied the ship to the rocks with the rope, so that the passengers could use it to jump onto the island. Some of the passengers immediately climbed onto the rope and made it to the island. Working together, they pulled the rocking ship as close as they could to the shoreline, until it was just two meters [6½ feet] away from the rocky wall.
The island of Syrna was a lot like a rocky mountain. The only thing that made it possible to anchor near the coast was a narrow strip of land that jutted out from the island. If not for the inlet that this formed, we would have all drowned at sea. It’s rare to find such an inlet around this kind of island, and I felt as if it was created especially for us — to save our lives.
The passengers jumped from the ship to land, leaving behind all their personal belongings. Each time the ship rocked, and moved closer to the rocky wall, about twenty passengers used the opportunity to jump to shore. Those who remained on the ship waited for the next time it would draw close.
The organizers kept warning, “Don’t panic! Don’t push! Wait patiently for the ship to get nearer to shore! Don’t jump before it’s time!”
The danger was tangible and very real. While jumping, people could easily fall between the rocks and the ship. Indeed, tragically, eight of the passengers drowned after they were crushed to death between the ship and the rocky shore. They were buried on the island.
The organizers of the journey and the crewmen worked feverishly to assist the passengers. They saved babies and young children, wrapping them in blankets and tossing them to those standing on the shore.
At the time, I didn’t think of the danger. I risked my life to help parents and their little children move safely onto the island.
A String of Mistakes Were Really Miracles
Years later, Gad Lasker, the captain of the ship, told a gathering marking the date of the Rafiach’s rescue, “What happened to the Rafiach was unbelievable. With my own eyes, I saw a string of miracles. As the captain of the ship, I was supposed to follow a certain protocol during this emergency, but something unseen compelled me to break one rule after another. I myself didn’t understand why I was doing what I was doing! In retrospect, had I followed the rules, not a single passenger would have survived.”
Wondrous Miracle with the Radio
Captain Lasker was the last one to jump off the ship. After he landed on the island, he remembered that he had left his communications radio on board. He risked his life to go back to the ship, which was almost completely under water, and was able to salvage the radio.
At the very moment that the Jewish captain jumped back onto the rocky ground, the Rafiach sank. Only the top of its mast could be seen above the water. The drama had lasted just forty-five minutes, during which nearly 800 passengers had been saved.
The fact that the captain made it out just in time was only one detail in a string of miracles and remarkable siyata diShmaya that accompanied the passengers every step of the way. The passengers clearly witnessed the chassadim of Hashem and the Guiding Hand that protected them. The tefillos of one worried, loving mother somewhere in Romania were surely not in vain.
Drinking Water — By Miracle!
Horror-stricken and exhausted, the helpless survivors looked around them. What would they do now? Where could they go? How would they find food for eight hundred people? How would they slake their thirst?
Hundreds of men, women, children and babies stood there on a desolate island, hungry and thirsty, exposed to the biting cold. At a loss for what to do next, the survivors tried to make contact with the outside world using the radio, but they were not successful.
Suddenly, rain started to pour down from the heavens. The crevices in the rocks and the pits all around us were filled with fresh water from which the survivors could drink. We clearly sensed the siyata diShmaya, the illumination from Above. Hashem, in His great compassion, had sent water for His beloved children in distress.
Nearly 200 passengers had been injured during their leap to the island. Some of them had broken bones, others suffered scrapes and bruises. With no medical equipment, we tried at least to find a place where the injured could take shelter. After a short time, we found a large cave where the injured people were able to take cover from the pouring rain.
Food — Yet Another Miracle!
There was still the serious issue of how to obtain food. So many starving people longed for a bit of food, but there was nothing to be had. The biting cold chilled them to the bone, and the strong winds that blew on the open island whipped at their faces. Where would they spend the freezing night? Where would they find shelter from the cold and the wind?
If not for the help of Hashem, the passengers could have died a slow, painful death, Rachmana litzlan! But HaKadosh Baruch Hu had prepared the solution for this problem in advance: On the island, which was less than one square kilometer in size, lived a single Greek family, at the behest of the Greek government. The surrounding countries were at odds with one another about who owned the island, and therefore, the Greek government gave validity to its ownership claims by having a Greek family occupy the island.
This family raised sheep, so they were able to provide the survivors with food and shelter for those crucial days of their stay on the island. Hundreds of survivors crowded into the sheep barns to take cover from the rain and the cold — of course paying a lot of money for these privileges.
The survivors experienced a harrowing night in subhuman conditions. When morning dawned, they purchased fifteen sheep from the Greek family in exchange for some gold jewelry that was contributed by the women on the ship. They cooked soup from the rainwater and meat of the sheep, and the food was distributed through careful rationing.
Communication at Last — Yet Another Miracle!
After the radio was salvaged from the ship, the wireless operator, Avraham Lichovsky, tried to broadcast a distress signal to Eretz Yisrael, but without any success. The device was totally waterlogged, and seemed to be ruined.
Another day passed. The survivors, having endured so much suffering and so many tribulations during the Holocaust, were losing their forbearance. The third night came. Darkness brought with it sorrow and despair, which gripped the hearts of the passengers. The people were weak and the mood was grim.
Miraculously, on the morning of the third day after the ship sank, Mr. Lichovsky succeeded in repairing the radio and he sent the following broadcast to Eretz Yisrael:
- 07:12: S.O.S.
- 07:41: Keep listening out for communication; battery low...
- 07:50: People on the island with no food...
- 08:00: The ship sank at Syrna... Eight have drowned, several bad injuries, urgent help... medicine...
The Miraculous Rescue!
Hope awakened. We drew closer to the shore, looking out longingly. From time to time, the survivors looked up to the sky and listened closely — was that the sound of an approaching plane? Hours passed, and our hopes seemed in vain. It looked like we would be waiting there forever, alone and forgotten.
And then, at around midday, we heard the buzz of a plane. “Wave your hands so they should see us!” we cried. But the lone plane flew over the island and didn’t seem to notice us standing there.
Despair almost reared its head again, but about fifteen minutes later, we noticed planes approaching. They flew over the island a number of times, and it seemed apparent that they had come to help! The survivors broke out in shouts of joy.
Chessed with Mesirus Nefesh
Suddenly, we noticed small items being thrown from the plane! Parachutes attached to tin receptacles were deployed. Some of the containers sank in the sea, but others landed on the island.
The items were collected in an organized fashion and brought to a cave. The delivery included medication for the injured, warm clothes, blankets, food, a field hospital, and a lot of other supplies.
Some of the food had landed on the hills. Although I was very weak after fasting for a few days, I nevertheless climbed on the hills for hours to collect the food for the starving passengers.
The British Help Out
At dawn on Wednesday, the fourth day of our stay on the island, a British ship appeared on the horizon and anchored at sea. British soldiers used small dinghies to evacuate the survivors onto the cargo ship. The ship served as a temporary detention center for illegal immigrants. Aside for the injured, who were transferred to the island of Rhodes for treatment, the passengers embarked towards an unknown destination.
It should be noted that the British photographed the rescue of the Rafiach survivors, and original photos of the rescue operation are preserved to this day in the archives in England. As per the request of the survivors, copies of the original photos were sent to Eretz Yisrael, and some of them are printed here.
Strong Opposition
The passengers were wracked with fear and worry. “Where are we being taken to?” we wondered. “What else is in store for us on this journey?” The emissaries from Eretz Yisrael, who hid among the refugees, urged the immigrants, “Prepare for a rebellion! Launch a protest!” They also suggested ways to do this. “Go on a hunger strike, destroy things, make a fuss and a stampede. Don’t listen to what the British tell you to do.”
The refugees complied. We were desperate to get to the Holy Land, our destination, and not to a detention center.
Every time the British made an announcement, we stamped our feet and made noise. No one was interested in translating what had been said in English and we didn’t understand any of it. We were hoping that the British would display some sympathy to the trauma we had experienced, and would allow us to travel to Eretz Yisrael.
Detention in Cyprus
“We’re in Cyprus!” A cry of disappointment rippled through the cargo ship. The news stunned the refugees. Cyprus was an island that served as a detention center for illegal immigrants, but after enduring years of persecution and suffering, we wanted freedom. We wanted to get home, to the eternal home of Bnei Yisrael!
“Off the ship!” the British commanded us aggressively.
We ignored the order. We coordinated amongst ourselves and barricaded ourselves into the belly of the ship. Whenever British sailors came close, we threw objects at them. We protested, raising a hue and cry. The British did not take this passively — they beat the passengers with truncheons. A few were injured, but there were plenty of injured British sailors as well.
The struggle lasted some time, and when the British realized that we were extremely determined, they opened portholes into the belly of the ship and threw tear gas grenades inside.
Tears streamed from our eyes and the irritation was unbearable. We took water that we had stored in pitchers and wet our eyes, but it was useless. We tried to continue our protest for another fifteen minutes, but our tearing eyes, blurry vision, and the burning sensation overwhelmed us. Finally, the British issued new instructions: go out onto the deck and prepare to get off the ship!
Bitterly, we emerged from the bowels of the ship. We felt humiliated and defeated as we stepped onto the ground in Cyprus.
Aliyah to Eretz Yisrael
Although most of the survivors spent about a year in Cyprus, the British were more lenient with the young and the sick. After a few months, on Thursday, the first day of Rosh Chodesh Adar 5707 (February 20, 1947), I went with the young people in the group to Eretz Yisrael.
At first, we were placed in a quarantine camp in Kiryat Shmuel, and we were confined there for three months. We longed for freedom and release. After some time, a new group of illegal immigrants arrived and needed to be placed in the quarantine camp. Having no choice, the British released the Rafiach passengers and interned the new illegal immigrants in the camp.
That’s how our wondrous rescue and aliyah to Eretz Yisrael finally concluded.
