For the American public, World War II was a profoundly all-hands-on-deck affair—from those fighting around the globe to those on the home front, on every farm and in every factory where the mighty engines of U.S. industrial might cranked out the massive “Arsenal of Democracy” that ultimately overwhelmed the Axis powers. Americans of every race, creed, and color became part of the great crusade, and for one portion of the population in particular—Jewish Americans—the conflict had an elevated sense of urgency.
According to the National Museum of World War II, “During World War II, 550,000 Jewish men and women served in the U.S. armed forces. . . . Although they faced antisemitism both at home and in service, Jewish American military personnel were not segregated, and 22 held senior rank.” And because “many Jewish Americans still had families in Europe,” for them, the titanic global struggle against the forces of tyranny and fascism was, quite understandably, “a personal one.”
Among those more than half a million men and women who served was Gunner’s Mate Barney Edelkind, who passed away late last year at the age of 100. The Brooklyn-born sailor served in the Pacific war all the way through, from 1942 to 1945, and he and his family managed to preserve a treasure trove of those ephemeral relics of his time in the service, which now are preserved in the U.S. Naval Institute Archives.
Here, in this array of once-everyday, mundane objects and papers, one is afforded a sort of forensic flashback to the life of a U.S. Navy sailor in World War II. Such items as Edelkind’s postwar Selective Service Notice of Classification, his Navy ID card, and his copy of The Observer’s Basic Book of Aircraft are mixed together with long-forgotten photos of long-gone friends and comrades, there in the glow of youth in places far away, wherever the war took them.
Among the artifacts is Edelkind’s Jewish Calendar for Soldiers and Sailors for 1943–44. Published by the National Jewish Welfare Board, the pocket-sized book also features on its cover the number 5704—the same time frame as counted by the Jewish calendar. “Barney’s Jewish faith was central to his life,” notes his obituary. “He was an avid reader and teacher of the Torah and had a thirst for solving its most confounding and unexplained topics.” Enjoying a vibrant and prosperous life after the war, “Barney was a truly unique and amazing person. He was deeply respected and loved and will be missed forever.”
Forever, indeed—you and all your shipmates as well, Mr. Edelkind. Yours was the generation that answered the call when darkness was descending on the world. We who follow can but aspire to your example.
