BENJY
President Roosevelt wants to remain our president. He’s the first president who wants to serve more than two terms. It’s unheard of! But Pop says we need him to stay right where he is, because there’s war all around us, and though he’s told us we’ll stay out of it, I’m not so sure.
Grandma wrings her hands and shakes her head. She doesn’t want another war. I say, Grandma, no one wants another war. But when you’ve got characters like Hitler and Stalin, well, they’re not going to play tiddlywinks.
Meanwhile, at the synagogue we always pray for our relatives in Germany, Austria, and now Poland. We pray they’ll be able to escape. That someone will help rescue them and bring them somewhere safe. Wherever that may be.
And yet I keep asking myself, am I doing enough? Will I look back at this time in my later years and regret not having done my part?
BENJY
If we all sent invitations to cousins overseas,
then maybe they’d muster the courage to leave
so we could crush Hitler and Stalin.
If we all gathered in warmer seas
and guided our refugees to the Azores and Spain,
then maybe they could wait out their visas
for American destinations.
If we all decided
the eagles of the great European houses
were more like our bald eagle
with no orb, no crown
no false promises.
If all the eagles of the Third Reich were
to swear allegiance
to the red, white, and blue,
and really mean it,
then maybe we’d have the chance we need
to preserve the democracy of our Founding Fathers
from swamp to coastline.
BENJY
Bubbe, my grandma, places a bowl of her vegetable soup
in front of me. Smack dab in the middle
is a knee bone—my favorite.
My mouth waters just looking
at the globules of luscious fat on the bone.
“The fat gives so much flavor,” she says.
“The fat and the bones.”
I love my grandma and her soft skin
and flowered dresses, her tight gray curls
and even the brown spots on her gnarled hands.
I love her accent and how many times
she can say “oy” in one sentence.
I thank G-d that she and Zayde left
Europe before the first war to come
to America and resettle their dreams.
Had they stayed in Poland, they could now
be in Hitler’s clutches. Bubbe prays
for her family still there. But swastika
tentacles have long reach. Hitler wants Europe.
He wants Britain. He wants America.
May G-d have mercy on us all.
BENJY
April 9, 1940
We’re learning about Roman, Greek, and Norse
mythology. Mrs. Hamilton has us reading
the pantheon of deities and I think about Thor,
the Norse god of thunder.
Germany invaded Norway today, and Denmark, too.
Odin, the Norse god of war, is having his way.
Hitler is a shape-shifter, taking on whatever appearance
he wants. Behind his mask is Loki, the trickster god.
He’s not done yet.
BENJY AND TOMMY
May 10, 1940
“What do you think would have happened,”
I ask Tommy, “if you had stayed at Camp Nordland?”
“We’d be loading real guns.
We’d be stepping up the drilling.
We’d be celebrating Nazi victories
invading Holland
invading Belgium
invading Luxembourg.”
BENJY AND TOMMY
We’ll soon be running out of fingers
to count all the countries now involved.
Nazi Germany has dropped bombs on France today, too.
One-two-three-four
Hitler’s marching west for more
Five-six-seven-eight
Hitler’s guns will decimate
The red-and-black blotch of Nazi Germany
spreads like spilled ink all over the map of Europe.
TOMMY
Nazi Germany is taking over
Western Europe while Father
reads his newspaper and listens to Wagner.
Nazi Germany spreads to the west
and Father goes out to celebrate
at the Turnverein Hall.
We live in the same house
but on different continents.
.
BENJY
Now is not the time to enlist.
We’re still too young.
Now is not the time for the Minutekids.
The Bund’s been quiet.
Now is not the time to join
Junior ROTC, military training at school.
It takes too long. But there’s always
the Canadian Royal Air Force! Canada’s
in the fight along with Great Britain.
Tommy and I rifle through our
superhero comic books for inspiration.
BENJY
I make plans to talk to Mr. Schneider,
head of phys ed.
“Come with me,” I say to Tommy,
and I grab him by the arm. I drag
him through the hallways
until we enter the gym. “Mr.
Schneider,” I say, “I know we don’t
have a boxing team, but I wonder
if we could raise funds
for the war, you know, for England,
a friend of the United States
that’s been bravely facing
the nightly barrage of Nazi bombs,
and for refugees by arranging
a series of boxing matches. I know
a few of the Minutemen, and I’ll bet
they’d be willing to help,
and then maybe Tommy and I
could go into the ring against
each other, too.”
Before I can blink, Mr. Schneider
shleps us to the principal’s office.
Oy, I’m thinking, Benjy, you’ve
done it now. But Mr. Schneider
actually likes the idea, and so does
Mr. Herzog, the principal.
I go home and Pop likes the idea
too. “I’ll talk to the guys,” he says.
“We’ll be able to match up some
pretty good fights.” He pats me
on the back, and I’m kvelling with pride.
Even Tommy says, “Good one, Benjy boy!”
BENJY AND TOMMY
Pop takes us to Joe’s downtown,
where the Minutemen keep
in shape. I put on my headgear
and gloves, getting ready to rumble.
“How did I let you talk me into this?
I don’t know how to box.”
“There’s nothing to it.”
I help with his gear
“Start with this punching bag.”
He packs a wallop.
“Hey, I might be good at this!
Teach me something else!”
I show him how to dance,
how to duck, how to protect,
how to jab, punch, land
an uppercut.
“You’ve got some fancy footwork!”
I’m going to like this.
We spend hours in the gym,
dancing and ducking,
punching and pretending
to pulverize. Pop buys us
each a Coke when we’re done.
“What a match
people are going to see!”
Two kids from Weequahic!
“Funny how we never learned boxing
at Nordland. Not military enough, I guess.”
“You’re doing it now!”
“So are you!”
BENJY
Ladies and Gentlemen, what a great night
for a great cause! Help the refugees flee Europe!
In our first event, we have
Benjy “The Kid” Puterman, in blue trunks,
vs Tommy “The Avenger” Anspach in white trunks.
There’s the bell, and they’re off.
Puterman dances in and out,
ducking Anspach’s jabs.
Puterman lobs an uppercut to the chin
and Anspach lowers to the canvas.
Wait, no, he gets up.
But Puterman’s at him again,
pummels the stomach
like a bongo drum
moving across the floor
until Anspach tangles in the ropes.
The bell sounds, and it’s the end
of the first round, ladies and gents.
The bell rings, and both contenders
jump to the center of the ring.
Anspach lands a punch to the gut
that sends Puterman reeling
to the corner. But The Kid rebounds
and comes at The Avenger with
vengeance. He delivers
a double left hook, ducks a counterpunch.
The Avenger goes for a clinch,
but the referee breaks them apart.
Both contenders grin. They’re both
winners, ladies and gents! Too bad
Anspach’s mom and dad aren’t here
to witness the mutual victory!
In the final exhibition round of our first event,
The Kid and Avenger go at it one last time.
Puterman does his signature dance,
not letting Anspach land anything.
Oh! Puterman throws a punch,
and another, and another!
Anspach’s down, folks, one.
two, three, four, five. He tries
to get up. What’s this? Puterman
helps him up and they both
raise their gloves to the air!
Great job, boys!
And now for tonight’s main event:
Nat Arno in red trunks
vs Harry “The Obliterator” Puterman in gold.
Arno makes the first move and lands
a one-two with an uppercut followed
by a left hook. These are professionals,
folks. Puterman counters with a left hook
of his own with great precision, but
it bounces off Arno like
a pebble across water. Arno feints a jab
but Puterman’s too smart to let that
make him react. That’s the bell,
and the end of Round 1.
Folks, we’ve raised thirty-five thousand dollars tonight
to help the refugees. Our biggest donor
of the night is longtime Newark
supporter, no matter what anyone says,
Longie Zwillman! Thanks, Longie!
And now back to the fight for Round Two.
Arno and Puterman are at it again. Arno’s
the more technical of the two, but Puterman’s
got more energy. He bobs and weaves
making Arno dizzy. Then Puterman
lands a jab, follows with an uppercut,
sends Arno into a spin to the floor.
The referee counts: one, two, three, four, five!
And Arno’s up, shaking his head. He throws
a punch to the chest, but Puterman deflects
and lands another uppercut. Again, Arno
spins to the ground for a three-count.
Round Two is over!
Thanks go to Weequahic High
and Principal Herzog for the use
of the gym for tonight’s exhibition!
We can always count on Newark
for support, right, folks!
And there’s the bell for the final round.
Puterman starts with a hook and a jab.
Arno counters with a rabbit punch
behind the head, drawing Puterman
into a clinch. The referee says, “Stop!”
and separates them. Puterman dances
his bob and weave around Arno and
lands a cross from the left. He feints a punch.
Arno counters but hits
the air. Puterman delivers a hook
and his uppercut and Arno is down
for the count. It’s over, folks!
Puterman has KO’d Arno!
It’s been a helluva night for Newark boxing!
It’s been a helluva night for Newark!
It’s been a helluva night to fight for refugees!
BENJY AND TOMMY
We all go out for ice cream.
I think I gave Tommy a black eye!
But he’s feeling no pain
as our spoons clink against each other
in the metal bowl that holds
our banana split.
Pop and Ma sit drinking coffee. Mr. Arno
swaggers up to us. He says, “If
we ever need younger Minutemen,
you two are the first I’d recruit.”
BENJY
June 22, 1940
France gave it all she had.
But once she knelt down
on one knee, the fight’s over.
Hitler demands her surrender.
Beaten, bruised, and bloody,
France has no choice.
She’s carried out of the ring.
Who’s next to step onto the canvas?
Britain steps forward. But Hitler
drops a bomb. Again and again.
Britain’s going to have to do
some pretty fancy footwork
and land those counterpunches
to avoid a knockout.
TOMMY
I want to see how long
it will take for the authorities
to deliver a fatal blow
to Camp Nordland.
I read the papers every day
to find news. Despite the number
of knockdowns, Nordland hasn’t been
knocked out. Yet. But maybe now
is the time, especially since
Leader Kuhn,
I should say,
former Leader Kuhn,
is still in jail.
TOMMY
July 4, 1940
“Not guilty!” three Bund leaders insist
as they’re brought
before a Sussex County hearing.
“Not guilty!” three Bund leaders persist.
“We did not violate the anti-uniform law.”
“Not guilty!” three Bund leaders enlist
the aid of their lawyers to make bail
of a thousand dollars each. But the money
comes in too late.
“Not guilty!” three Bund leaders’ pleas dismissed
as they’re locked up in jail.
TOMMY
September 12, 1940
The windows rattle to the point of shattering.
The shingles of the roof fall to the ground.
We run out into the night.
Rumbling like the end of the world—
someone says it’s the Hercules Powder plant
by Camp Nordland.
Is it the act of Nazis in New Jersey?
TOMMY
September 13, 1940
Tear up the songbooks!
Take down the swastika!
Drain the illegal beer kegs!
Expose Nordland for what it is.
Kick down the cabin doors.
Riffle through the cupboard shelves.
Find the evidence, boys!
English or German!
What have we here?
A photo of Hitler
A uniform with cross-body leather belt
A swastika-marked rifle with telescopic sight
Reams of antisemitic rhetoric
Haul this evidence and take these
Nazis into custody.
BENJY AND TOMMY
September 28, 1940
“The British beat back powerful German air attacks today as Nazis described [yesterday’s] triple alliance among Germany, Italy and Japan as a ‘red light’ cautioning Russia as well as the United States against attempting to interfere in the wars with Great Britain and China.” —Herald-News (Passaic, NJ), September 28, 1940
We spread out a map
on the floor of my bedroom.
We use thumbtacks
to track the war in Europe.
We use red and black
to mark the assaults
of Germany and Italy.
We use blue to mark
the moves of Britain and France.
What color will we use
to route Japan’s attacks
in Asia and the Pacific?
Hitler is bringing Japan’s Emperor Hirohito
into his brotherhood of aggression
wanting Japan to engage
in an attack on England.
We throw all the thumbtacks
into the air.
TOMMY
If Father has taught me one thing,
it’s that we become our choices.
Each yes and no makes us lean
into darkness or light
into empty or full.
But there’s an invisible continuum
along the spectrum of possible
between salty and sweet.
In the middle sit all the questions
that teeter for the right responses.
TOMMY
May 31, 1941
One by one
a dozen members of the American Legion approached.
Low fog hovered above the grasses
like a net to protect the growth.
“By order of the New Jersey Attorney General,”
the Sussex County Sheriff said, “this is a raid.”
The state unanimously voted
to repeal Nordland’s charter,
take it back
cancel it
revoke it
withdraw it.
Camp Nordland will stand abandoned.
Weeds will overgrow the sign
and choke the entrance.
Tent flaps will tatter in the wind.
Cobwebs will drape the cabins.
Camp Nordland will become a ghost,
but I’ll bet the stench of beer
will remain strong but stale
and the sound of marching boots
will still beat to the rhythm
of a new world order bottled in fantasy.
Here on these grounds
the earth will always rumble
and bear witness to Camp Nordland.
BENJY
June 22, 1941
Hitler’s given Stalin a sly one-two punch
to the gut. He doesn’t fight a clean fight.
He’s invaded the Soviet Union,
reneged on their pact. He’s going
for the title shot: Emperor of the World.
BENJY AND TOMMY
June 1941
Diplomas in hand,
our paths paved
to college
in September!
I, Tommy to the Newark College of Engineering.
I, Benjy to Rutgers here in the city,
but it will be hard to stay focused
on our studies
with the world at war.
Almost the world—
America’s not in it yet
and our eyes on the Royal Air Force.
TOMMY
I thank you, my oldest friend,
for never giving up on me.
Subtle
and delicate do not define you—
or me—you pummeled your well-worn
fists in my face, unraveling the threads
of shadow and night. It’s day again
and I feel alive as I walk beside you
on Peshine Avenue and eat a kosher pickle
from Sol’s once more.
TOMMY
August 1941
Nordland—a dream, a nightmare,
a prelude to war.
The guns
The salutes
The flags
The allegiance to Hitler
I’m ready to move beyond
this stalemate with Father
and fly.
BENJY AND TOMMY
We’re off to Canada
to join its air force.
We’ll learn how to fly planes
and drop bombs
against Germany.
We’re off to face the enemy!