When the Germans invaded Poland in September 1939, the author and his father were drafted into the Polish Army. After a few days of hopeless fighting, the brigade in which the author served was routed and dispersed. This precipitated a headlong flight of soldiers and civilians alike, anxious to escape the murderous attack of the rapidly advancing enemy armored columns and their attendant aircraft, which ceaselessly bombed and strafed roads and villages. For some three weeks, Aaron Reisfeld and his father desperately sought to escape the Nazi onslaught by fleeing eastward to the Russian border and the perceived safety that country offered. It was a harrowing ordeal covering hundreds of kilometers, during which the Reisfelds endured hunger, exposure, bombing, shelling and countless dangers on roads clogged with millions of terrified, escaping refugees. At the outbreak of war, the author lived a comfortable life in a reasonably affluent home in the town of Lodz, and was about to complete his last year of high school. Little did he know it would be more than a decade before he could complete his education and obtain a degree in textile engineering from Nottingham College in England. In that decade, the author survived many trials by fire and mortal danger, first in escaping from the Nazis, then fighting the Germans in North Africa as a soldier in the British Army, and finally serving in the Israeli Army in that country’s bloody war for independence. While he managed to escape the fires of the Holocaust, his mother, sister and most members of his extended family were consumed in it along with six million Jews and untold numbers of gentiles. Running from the advancing Nazis, the author and his father, through sheer determination, willpower to survive and luck, managed to reach the Russian Zone of Occupation and its temporary safety. Soon, however, they found they had to flee from the Russians as well when they began deporting into the Siberian hinterland capitalists, professionals and the intelligentsia, who were unlikely to hew to the Soviet ideology and order. Fleeing the Russians, the Reisfelds brought off another harrowing escape, this time by crossing a raging river in the middle of a cold, wintry night into Romania, where they hoped to find a temporary haven. Because they had crossed illegally into the country, the author and his father were apprehended by the Romanian police and forced to serve a brief jail sentence before being set free and allowed to stay in that country. From their base in Bucharest, Reisfeld’s father tried to arrange for his mother’s and sister’s escape from Nazi occupied Poland. Such arrangements were difficult to make, but possible by bribing the right police and Nazi officials. Reisfeld’s father succeeded in making those arrangements, and his mother and sister were set to travel to then neutral Italy from where they could continue on to Palestine. But just as they were about to depart, Italy entered the war on Germany’s side, thus trapping them in Poland and sealing their doom. The security they found in Romania did not last as both Germany and the Soviets were poised to march into Romania and partition the country between them. The Reisfelds had to flee once again before they could be overtaken by their dreaded enemies. They managed to book passage on one of the last passenger ships to leave Romania, barely days ahead of the German occupation. After a tour of eastern Mediterranean ports, the Reisfelds finally landed in Haifa where they were taken in by family members already established in Palestine. Yet, this was hardly the end of the author’s peregrinations. With the war raging in North Africa and creeping closer to Palestine, Aaron joined the British Army’s Corp of Royal Engineers as a sapper lifting and planting mines, blowing up fortifications, and building and destroying bridges, among ot

Yellow Star, Red Star asks why Holocaust memory continues to be so deeply troubled—ignored, appropriated, and obfuscated—throughout Eastern Europe, even though it was in those lands that most of the extermination campaign occurred. As part of accession to the European Union, Jelena Subotić shows, East European states were required to adopt, participate in, and contribute to the established Western narrative of the Holocaust. This requirement created anxiety and resentment in post-communist states: Holocaust memory replaced communist terror as the dominant narrative in Eastern Europe, focusing instead on predominantly Jewish suffering in World War II. Influencing the European Union's own memory politics and legislation in the process, post-communist states have attempted to reconcile these two memories by pursuing new strategies of Holocaust remembrance. The memory, symbols, and imagery of the Holocaust have been appropriated to represent crimes of communism. Yellow Star, Red Star presents in-depth accounts of Holocaust remembrance practices in Serbia, Croatia, and Lithuania, and extends the discussion to other East European states. The book demonstrates how countries of the region used Holocaust remembrance as a political strategy to resolve their contemporary "ontological insecurities"—insecurities about their identities, about their international status, and about their relationships with other international actors. As Subotić concludes, Holocaust memory in Eastern Europe has never been about the Holocaust or about the desire to remember the past, whether during communism or in its aftermath. Rather, it has been about managing national identities in a precarious and uncertain world.

An author and subject index to selected and American Anglo-Jewish journals of general and scholarly interests.

When the Germans invaded Poland in September 1939, the author and his father were drafted into the Polish Army. After a few days of hopeless fighting, the brigade in which the author served was routed and dispersed. This precipitated a headlong flight of soldiers and civilians alike, anxious to escape the murderous attack of the rapidly advancing enemy armored columns and their attendant aircraft, which ceaselessly bombed and strafed roads and villages. For some three weeks, Aaron Reisfeld and his father desperately sought to escape the Nazi onslaught by fleeing eastward to the Russian border and the perceived safety that country offered. It was a harrowing ordeal covering hundreds of kilometers, during which the Reisfelds endured hunger, exposure, bombing, shelling and countless dangers on roads clogged with millions of terrified, escaping refugees. At the outbreak of war, the author lived a comfortable life in a reasonably affluent home in the town of Lodz, and was about to complete his last year of high school. Little did he know it would be more than a decade before he could complete his education and obtain a degree in textile engineering from Nottingham College in England. In that decade, the author survived many trials by fire and mortal danger, first in escaping from the Nazis, then fighting the Germans in North Africa as a soldier in the British Army, and finally serving in the Israeli Army in that countrys bloody war for independence. While he managed to escape the fires of the Holocaust, his mother, sister and most members of his extended family were consumed in it along with six million Jews and untold numbers of gentiles. Running from the advancing Nazis, the author and his father, through sheer determination, willpower to survive and luck, managed to reach the Russian Zone of Occupation and its temporary safety. Soon, however, they found they had to flee from the Russians as well when they began deporting into the Siberian hinterland capitalists, professionals and the intelligentsia, who were unlikely to hew to the Soviet ideology and order. Fleeing the Russians, the Reisfelds brought off another harrowing escape, this time by crossing a raging river in the middle of a cold, wintry night into Romania, where they hoped to find a temporary haven. Because they had crossed illegally into the country, the author and his father were apprehended by the Romanian police and forced to serve a brief jail sentence before being set free and allowed to stay in that country. From their base in Bucharest, Reisfelds father tried to arrange for his mothers and sisters escape from Nazi occupied Poland. Such arrangements were difficult to make, but possible by bribing the right police and Nazi officials. Reisfelds father succeeded in making those arrangements, and his mother and sister were set to travel to then neutral Italy from where they could continue on to Palestine. But just as they were about to depart, Italy entered the war on Germanys side, thus trapping them in Poland and sealing their doom. The security they found in Romania did not last as both Germany and the Soviets were poised to march into Romania and partition the country between them. The Reisfelds had to flee once again before they could be overtaken by their dreaded enemies. They managed to book passage on one of the last passenger ships to leave Romania, barely days ahead of the German occupation. After a tour of eastern Mediterranean ports, the Reisfelds finally landed in Haifa where they were taken in by family members already established in Palestine. Yet, this was hardly the end of the authors peregrinations. With the war raging in North Africa and creeping closer to Palestine, Aaron joined the British Armys Corp of Royal Engineers as a sapper lifting and planting mines, blowing up fortifications, and building and destroying bridges, among ot

An unforgettable novel from the New York Times bestseller Gordon Korman Link, Michael, and Dana live in a quiet town. But it's woken up very quickly when someone sneaks into school and vandalizes it with a swastika. Nobody can believe it. How could such a symbol of hate end up in the middle of their school? Who would do such a thing? Because Michael was the first person to see it, he's the first suspect. Because Link is one of the most popular guys in school, everyone's looking to him to figure it out. And because Dana's the only Jewish girl in the whole town, everyone's treating her more like an outsider than ever. The mystery deepens as more swastikas begin to appear. Some students decide to fight back and start a project to bring people together instead of dividing them further. The closer Link, Michael, and Dana get to the truth, the more there is to face-not just the crimes of the present, but the crimes of the past. With Linked, Gordon Korman, the author of the acclaimed novel Restart, poses a mystery for all readers where the who did it? isn't nearly as important as the why?

While Adolf Hitler’s National Socialist government was persecuting Jews and Jehovah’s Witnesses and driving forty-two small German religious sects underground, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints continued to practice unhindered. How some fourteen thousand Mormons not only survived but thrived in Nazi Germany is a story little known, rarely told, and occasionally rewritten within the confines of the Church’s history—for good reason, as we see in David Conley Nelson’s Moroni and the Swastika. A page-turning historical narrative, this book is the first full account of how Mormons avoided Nazi persecution through skilled collaboration with Hitler’s regime, and then eschewed postwar shame by constructing an alternative history of wartime suffering and resistance. The Twelfth Article of Faith and parts of the 134th Section of the Doctrine and Covenants function as Mormonism’s equivalent of the biblical admonition to “render unto Caesar,” a charge to cooperate with civil government, no matter how onerous doing so may be. Resurrecting this often-violated doctrinal edict, ecclesiastical leaders at the time developed a strategy that protected Mormons within Nazi Germany. Furthermore, as Nelson shows, many Mormon officials strove to fit into the Third Reich by exploiting commonalities with the Nazi state. German Mormons emphasized a mutual interest in genealogy and a passion for sports. They sent husbands into the Wehrmacht and sons into the Hitler Youth, and they prayed for a German victory when the war began. They also purged Jewish references from hymnals, lesson plans, and liturgical practices. One American mission president even wrote an article for the official Nazi Party newspaper, extolling parallels between Utah Mormon and German Nazi society. Nelson documents this collaboration, as well as subsequent efforts to suppress it by fashioning a new collective memory of ordinary German Mormons’ courage and travails during the war. Recovering this inconvenient past, Moroni and the Swastika restores a complex and difficult chapter to the history of Nazi Germany and the Mormon Church in the twentieth century—and offers new insight into the construction of historical truth.