The Zichliner Rebbe redirects words to keep a bochur out of the Polish army
A bochur named Shmuel Leib from a town named Lutomiersk (not far from Aleksander) would go every Erev Shabbos to Strikov, where he would light candles at the grave of the holy Strikover Rebbe, Rav Ephraim Fishel, and then spend Shabbos in Strikov before returning home Motzei Shabbos.
The norm was that young boys who reached the age of compulsory military service in the Polish army would have to register at a draft office, after which a lottery would decide which of the boys of that age bracket would actually have to put on a uniform and start active duty. In those years, active service in the Polish army was a sure prescription for falling away from the path of Torah and Yiddishkeit.
The fearful draft notice arrived in the mail and Shmuel Leib prepared himself for the lottery which could decide his entire future as a Yid or even if he were to remain alive.
During his next visit to the Ohel, he shed bitter tears, entreating Hashem in the merit of the Tzaddik that he escape active duty. Exhausted, he dozed off and dreamed that he was begging the holy Rebbe Ephraim Fishel himself, to intermediate on his behalf to Hashem to escape the draft. The reply from the Rebbe was: “It's been decided that you will have to carry a rifle!” Hearing this verdict from the Rebbe broke him to pieces.
The boy desperately needed someone to whom he could pour out his heart. He had a close confidant in Lodz named Avrom Azerkover, a chosid of the Rebbe Shmuel Abba Zhichlinski, author of Sefer Lahav Eish, a true Torah scholar, and a wise counselor. Instead of returning to his village, Shmuel Leib headed straight for Lodz where he told Reb Avrom the outcome of his dream in the Strikover Ohel.
Reb Avrom told him that considering the setting where he learned of the “decision”, it was something that needed to be taken very seriously but that he had a suggestion that could turn away the decree. “Go in person to my Rebbe in Zhichlin and write a kvittel in the usual way. Your request should be simple, that you wish to escape from the soul-destroying army service. Now, if the Rebbe, without breaking stride, gives you a quick bracha that you should be exempt, that would not be a favorable sign for you. It would mean that he does not feel he can really help you at that time. If, on the other hand, he reflects deeply on the matter and says that your problem is truly a very serious one for which he cannot offer a solution, then tell him exactly the dream you had at the Strikover Rebbe’s grave and what you heard from the Strikover Rebbe about your fate. That unexpected fact may evoke a different response from the Rebbe. Follow my advice and let's see what happens.” Shmuel Leib promised to inform his friend of the outcome.
Shmuel Leib arrived in Zhichlin and waited his turn to present his kvittel to the tzaddik. He shook from apprehension since the stakes were so high. The Zhichliner Rebbe asked him the specific reason he had come to him since it was the first time they had met. “Rebbe, I want to be exempt from being drafted into the Polish army, since I cannot live a proper Jewish life as a soldier.” Hearing this, the Rebbe looked deeply into the kvittel and pondered the matter for many minutes. This fact by itself calmed Shmuel’s nerves and gave him cause to hope for salvation. But to his dismay, the Rebbe concluded that he was powerless to help. At that point, the bochur, following his friend’s advice, related his visit to the grave and the Strikover Rebbe’s exact words to him in the dream: ”You will have to carry a rifle!”
“If those were the Strikover’s exact words, then I can turn them in a direction different than you thought, while still keeping true to them. In your town, I am correct in assuming that there are organized campaigns for “Chevras Bikur Cholim”, helping the sick, and “Chevras Hachnosas Kallah”, for helping poor couples get married?” Shmuel Leib was quick to confirm, “Yes, of course, Rebbe. Those two chevras are very active charities in my town.” “And what is the source of the funds for these charities?” “Rebbe, a gabbai (trustee) circulates with charity boxes / “pushkes” soliciting funds during davening in the Shuls and during Levayas, and Yidden contribute generously.”
“If so, ask the gabbai to appoint you as the gabbai tzedaka from now until the day of the lottery. You will carry a pushke around from place to place just as a soldier carries his rifle from place to place, but you will fulfill the fate of “carrying a rifle” by carrying a pushke instead. The Rebbe elaborated to the confused bachur: In Yiddish, the word for rifle is a “biks” -- was similar to the nickname “biksel” for a pushke Instead of carrying their rifle, “biks” – you will carry the tzedakah pushke “biksel”, and will stay out of the army.” Shmuel Leib understood and left the Rebbe happy.
The Gabboim were very grateful to have some extra manpower, and the fearful lottery turned out just fine for Shmuel Leib. The number drawn for him was an exemption from army duty. Shmuel Leib recalled how the Zhichlin Rebbe redirected the words of the Strikover Tzaddik in an unexpected way to save his life, and more importantly his Yiddishkeit.
