I can't recall ever hearing this story without getting goose pimples. Mama was always so emotional when she told it. The year was 1916, Mama (aunty Bertha) was 8 yrs old and our zaide Menachem Mendel was conscripted into the Romanian army. He left his wife and 9 children and went off to war. I've written previously about his prominence in the Radauti community, his charitable ways, etc. but none of this could save him from being drafted into the army of Franz Josef emperor of the Austro Hungarian empire where he lived.

In 1916 a messenger appeared at the home of the Dalfen's, informing our Babbe that her husband Menachem Mendel had been killed in battle, that he (the messenger a local Jew) himself had seen him lying dead on the battlefield, and had removed his gold watch and cane, from the body and brought it to Babbe.

When word spread throughout the community of the tragedy at the Dalfens, and the family prepared to sit shiva, a "shaila" question to the Vishnitzer Rebbe brought back the surprising reply that they were not to sit shiva, the reason being there was only one witness, and this did not Halachically constitute adequate proof. (this of course would also apply if for example the widow wished to remarry). In our modern day language you can well imagine this decision as preventing closure on this tragedy but that was the "psak" ruling.

The community was well aware that Taube Devora our Babbe had 9 children, none had yet immigrated to America, I doubt if any were yet married, and immediately there began arriving at the Dalfen home, potatoes, and onions, and all basic necessities sent by the Vaad Haiir.

Our grandmother returned everything from whence it came , proclaiming that she did not take charity, that she had two hands, and would alone support her family. What a proud woman she was. (she would always refer to her self as a (Reezen Dame) literally a giant of a woman. She began taking in laundry and so supported the family.

Time passed and eventually the war ended. and I recall mama telling me that after the war there was a giant parade for the homecoming troops. The bands were playing, the soldiers were marching, people lined the streets to welcome their beloved husbands and sons, and mama was standing at the window in their house facing the street with her nose against the window crying, knowing her father would not be coming home.

The parade ended and everyone sat down in their parlor, when all of a sudden a knock was heard at the door, and our zaide Menachem Mendel walked in, limping, but all in one piece alive and well. I don't have to describe to you the joy which engulfed the Dalfen household on seeing their father, and husband alive after thinking for 2 years that he had died.

It was not the time of telephones, fax machines, internet, etc. and communications especially during war time were almost non existent. It seems he had been shot in the hip, probably was unconscious and left for dead. He was later picked up and brought to a hospital where he spent time recovering, and then back to the lines until the end of the war.

You can well imagine the respect with which the Rebbe was probably treated at his wise decision in forbidding them to sit shiva, and our zaide went on to live an additional 12 years succumbing to a stroke in 1930 at the age of 58.