Taitz Family during WW 2 and afterwards

 

Before the war, Leib Taitz was arrested for being a Bolshevik, and during his imprisonment, he met his future wife, Mary. She was one of eight children, spoke Russian, Yiddish, Latvian and Latgalian. And after the Bolsheviks’ rise to power, Leib was freed, so Mary and he lived together in the town of Zilupe, where Leib was in charge of a mill. Later they moved to Rezekne, where my grandmother Rahil was born. When the war started. Leib Taitz volunteered, and told his family — wife Mary, my Grandma Rahil (she was 4 years old at the time), and her brother Isaac (Izya) (he was 5), to make their way to Leningrad, to his sister Faina (Fanya). They didn’t make it there; they left, as Zilupe was being attacked by Nazis. They walked to the town of Velikiye Luki, and there they boarded the train deeper into the country, evacuated. Leib Taitz died in combat near the town of Naro-Fominsk in March 1942.

A bit about Fanya — she moved to Leningrad in 1917 as a teenage girl, and due to the Revolution, she wasn’t allowed back to Rezekne. She married a man from Harkov named Alexander (Sasha) Vorobeichick. In 1932, they had a daughter, Bronislava (Rolya) Vorobeichik. Fanya worked as a waitress a lot, but professionally, she was an accountant. She left Leningrad during the war and met with my Grandma and her brother in Ufa, while in the evacuation. 

After the war, Fanya returned to Leningrad, and my Grandma’s family went back to Zilupe, where Mary would go to a train station every day, hoping to find her relatives. And she did! Her first cousins. One of them, Sonya Gootman, invited them to live with her in the town of Ludza, which they did, and Grandma went to the second grade of her elementary school there. 

In 1955, Grandma went to study in Leningrad, and she finally saw Fanya! Grandma lived there with Rebecca Rubina, the sister of Rachel, Leyb’s mother. Rebecca was a librarian and worked in a public library all her life. She even refused to evacuate during the war and lived through the Siege of Leningrad. She died in 1958. Then Fanya invited Grandma to stay with her, up until the end of uni in 1960.

After the university was over, Grandma was sent to teach in Ural, while back at Ludza for a holiday, she met Mark Tseytlin, who was studying medicine in Riga. Mark was from the city of Chernihiv in Ukraine. Shortly after they got married in 1963, Mark was sent to work in Rezekne. She worked as a teacher at a Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing Boarding School for fifty years. The couple had two boys, first Anatoly (Tolya) in 1964 and then Alexander (Sasha) in 1969. Mary, my Grandma’s mum, died in 1984, and Fanya died in 1987. She was cremated and her ashes were buried next to her mother’s grave in Rezekne. Her mother, Rachel, wife of Naftoli Taitz, died in 1935, and Fanya wasn’t let out of Leningrad for the funeral due to the Revolution aftermath. Bronislava moved to Israel; she died in 2011 and is buried near Kiryat Ata.  

Sasha moved to Moscow, where he met my mother, Maria (Masha) Pivnik, while they both worked\studied medicine, and they got married in 1995. My dad worked as an anesthetist and as an editor of medical literature. He died in July 2013. My mother is a radiotherapist.

Tolya moved to Riga and in the 1990s met Svetlana (Sveta), they got married and had two girls, Mary and Rebecca, then all of them moved to Israel. Tolya was a professional sports trainer; he owned a gym. He had a third daughter, Adelina, with his SO Karen in 2015 (after Sveta and he separated), and died in August 2019. Mary has a son, Leo\Lev; he was born earlier this year.

My mother, Maria, her mother Tatyana, brother Vladimir, and his family live in Moscow. Mary, Rebecca, Adelina, and I all live in Israel.  

(9) A New Year's Eve Party

 New Year’s Eve(a story told by Norma)

In December 1939, my parents, Toby and Harold went on a cruise to South America. Margie, myself (I was at Weeks Junior High), and Ernie decided to have a New Years’ Eve party, at the house on Burr Road. We printed up about 30 invitations, but I ended up telling everyone I knew about it. We put all my parents’ antiques in the garage (they got a little snowy). My father had some decorations left over from Jordan Marsh’s Christmas décor, so we covered the house with stars and fake snow. We set up a keg of beer on the sideboard, and cole slaw and potato salad, which nobody ate because we forgot to put out forks.

      About 150 people showed up. Needless to say, it was a wild time.

At 2 AM, Margie was tired. She brought down all the coats, and told everyone to get out.

The next day, Sam Rudginsky (Harold’s father) came by, and saw all the antiques in the snow. “You’re going to catch hell for this!” he said.

When Ma and Papa came home, Sam told him what had happened. 

“Did you have a good time?” Papa said.

“We did-the best ever!”

“That’s all that matters,” said Papa. That’s how he was- as long as we kids were happy, that’s all that was important to him.

(11) Winston Churchill Asks Me for a Light; A Top Secret Project; Judy Arrives

 I Meet Winston Churchill, and Won’t Give Him a Light

When we were married, in September 1944, we wanted to go to Quebec for our honeymoon. It was the height of the Second World War, however, and as a lieutenant in the Navy; I couldn’t take off just like that.

My captain, however, managed to arrange for me to be detailed for a week to ‘inspect’ some ammunition depots outside of Montreal, complete with a Jeep and a gas ration to do the ‘inspection.’ Jean, who was working for the Boston Globe, spoke to Louis Lyons of the Boston Herald, and obtained press credentials for her to cover the visit of Prime Minister Winston Churchill to the Canadian Parliament, to brief them on the secret plans for the rest of the war.

Quebec Conference 1944

In my dress whites Navy uniform, I joined the rest of the spectators lining the streets trying to get a glimpse of Churchill. The Prime Minister’s entourage swept past, and someone grabbed me into the official group- they thought I was Lord Gort's or someone’s military attaché. Too stunned to protest, I followed them into the Parliament, and the doors were closed, as it was a secret session. 

I was seated right next to Churchill. In fact, while they were waiting to begin, Churchill turned to me and asked me for a match to light his cigar. I was so petrified that they would discover that I didn’t belong there, and turned away. I never heard a word of what was said during the session- all I thought about was whether I would be arrested. 

Finally, it ended, and the entourage swept out again from the Parliament. I could see Jean and Louis Lyons, straining to see from behind the barriers. Jean was amazed- her bridegroom, in with the top brass!

Roosevelt Arrives in Quebec

Me and Roosevelt

While on the trip to Canada, Jean and I were invited to meet with Herbert Lehmann, Governor of New York, who had been a friend of Jean’s father, Judge Pinanski, at Harvard.

While we were meeting with Lehmann in his hotel suite. The telephone rang. Lehmann, who was busy pouring drinks or something, asked me to answer it for him. I picked it up, and a voice said, “Hello, this is Franklin Roosevelt (the President).”

I thought it was someone playing a prank. “You are not Franklin Roosevelt. Stop playing tricks on the Governor!”

It turned out it was Roosevelt, Leader of the Free World.

A Top Secret Project

At the Naval Ammunition depot in Pine Bluffs, Arkansas, we were working on a Top Secret munitions project, the Proximity Fuse, which would set off bombs and shells exactly when they hit the target. We were told it was going to be the most important technological advance of the war.

On August 8th, 1945, the news came about the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Our commander was furious! Our entire  hush-hush project had been just an irrelevant diversion!

Judy Arrives, Rescuing Me from Jail

On V-J day- August 15th, 1945, I was Officer of the Day in charge of the Naval ammunition base in Pine Bluffs, Arkansas. When the servicemen heard that Japan had surrendered and that the war was over, they headed over to the officers’ club, and went wild, with the biggest party since 1941.

Around 11 PM, another officer and I decided to stop by the club to see how things were going. When we opened the door- it was a drunken madhouse inside! I quickly  closed the door, and decided what the heck, the war was over, why not let them celebrate?

In the morning, the captain of the base rode by the club, and looked in. Everything inside had been smashed- the place was destroyed. He returned to the GHQ, and called me to his office.

“Dietz!” he bellowed, “what in the hell went on last night?”

“Just a party, sir,” I answered. “I figured it didn’t matter- the war is over!”

“Of course it matters!” replied the Captain, “you’re confined to quarters for a week!”

Just then another officer came in with a telegram from the Chelsea Naval Hospital in Boston. “I am happy to announce,” he said, “ that Lieutenant Dietz’s wife has just had a baby girl!”

“In that case,” said the captain, “is there still some Scotch left over from last night?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then drinks for everyone! Let’s celebrate!”

And I was a free man, thanks to the arrival of Judith Ann Dietz.

Abraham, George, Ernest, and Jonathan Dietz, 1959

(10) Night School Pays Off...In the Navy

 Night School Pays Off

In the late 1930’s, while working for United Shoe, I took an evening course at Tufts College in Medford on The Chemistry of Powder and Explosives, receiving an official-looking certificate. I had always been interested in chemistry.

When, on December 8th, 1941, the day after the attack on Pearl Harbor, the United States declared war on Japan and Germany, I immediately took my certificate down to the Navy recruiting station and enlisted in the Navy, convincing them that I was an explosives expert. I figured the Navy would be safer than the Army; besides, my father hadn’t liked the Army (in Russia) either. 

A few days later, I received my draft notice from the Army. I went down to the Army recruiter, and told them that I was already in the Navy, and had my Navy officer contact the Army and tell them, sorry, we got him first.

And so I was in the Navy.

Officer Training

The Navy sent us new officer recruits to a twelve-week Naval Officer Training Program at Notre Dame, in South Bend, Indiana. Besides training in Naval operations, we were put through the most grueling physical fitness program of our lives.

When we had the graduation dinner, the commander told us, “Men. You have done well. You are now in the best physical condition you will ever be in. It’s all downhill from here.”

Too Far to Walk

In the spring of 1942, I was a newly commissioned Ensign in the United States Navy, having completed training at the US Naval Training Academy at Notre Dame. Everyone anxiously awaited the news of where they would be posted to. Who knew if it would be Pearl Harbor, Algeria, the North Atlantic, or some other battle zone?

Finally the dreaded news came. I telephoned my mother from the Boston Navy Yard.

“Well, Ernie,” asked Rosa, nervously, “Is it far?”

“Yes, Ma,” I answered, “it is far. It’s definitely too far to walk home to dinner every night, but I can drive home on the weekends.”

I was posted to the Hingham Ammunition Depot, about 20 miles from my parents’ house in Newton.

I Take Jean on a Very Explosive Date

When I was courting Jean, probably on about our third date in the late spring of 1944, I promised Jean that I would pick her up one evening at the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in the Back Bay.

Jean and Ernie on a Date, 1944

During the workday before our date, however, we had had a very busy day down at the Hingham Ammunition Depot, where I was a lieutenant in charge of depth charges and other explosives. A large transport ship was leaving from the Navy Yard in East Boston with ammunition for the invasion of Normandy, and the Hingham depot was sending them a shipment of depth charges to help defend the transports against German submarines.

That evening, just as I was about to leave on our date, I realized that we had forgotten to send the detonators along with the depth charges.

        Without the detonators, the depth charges were useless.

I decided that the only thing to do was to deliver the depth charges to the ship waiting at the Navy Yard myself. I loaded the back of his Jeep with the detonators, and drove into Boston and went into the Ritz-Carlton to pick up Jean. 

When we came out, I found another man in his car banging into the back of the Jeep. I screamed at him to get away—but I didn’t tell Jean that the whole thing could blow up at any second. Not until I had delivered the detonators to the ship did I tell Jean what had been in the back seat.