ALBA Visit #5

During this visit I read the Jacob (Jack) Shafran Papers, specifically Jack’s letters to his girlfriend Ruth Goldstein in New York City. Jack served with the Abraham Lincoln Brigade from July 1937 to October 1938, and came home in December 1938.

Like many of his comrades, Jacks letters started off confident and cheery. Ironically this is around the same time that George Boehm’s writing grew trepidatious and he soon died in a battle that Jack survived. Like George, Jack wrote about the war frequently and in detail. Unlike George, Jack usually received regular mail from his significant other. Interestingly, the correspondence seemed to instill more homesickness than confidence in Jack. Also, from George and Jack’s descriptions of war, and from my general historical knowledge, I get the impression that nonintervention hurt the morale of those fighting for the Republic, and I also get the impression that the Republic could have won a resounding victory if it had received international help [studying the rationale for and reactions to American nonintervention might make an interesting final project].

By December 1937 Jack’s tone has changed from confident to world-weary. “Did you ever get to feeling where the important and big things seemed small and trivial, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to do anything?”^[1] he asks Ruth dismally. Aside from battle scenarios, Jack sinks even deeper into weariness and even boredom, often complaining about seemingly petty details. But I suppose the little annoyances can add up, especially at war in a foreign country. He does have some serious complaints as well, including a bad hand injury in August 1938 that incapacitated him for several weeks. By October 1938 Jack implies that he used prostitutes during his free time (specifically in July 1938), he mentions drinking and gambling to kill time, and he cannot wait to go home. This makes me wonder: How common was the use of prostitutes, drinking, and gambling? Peter Carroll’s The Odyssey of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade makes it sound like drinking was not much of an issue, with a few isolated exceptions, but does not address prostitution or gambling. Anyhow, Jack’s feelings of homesickness apparently dwarf whatever upset he felt about the ALB withdrawing and the Republic losing the war. I wonder if George Boehm would have developed similar feelings had he outlived the fighting. I’d like to think that George would have maintained a more selfless tone to the very end.

Citations

1. Letter from Jacob Shafran, Dec 14, 1937; Jacob (Jack) Shafran Papers; ALBA 215; box 1; folder 6

Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

70 Washington Square South

New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

DVD – Facing Fascism: New Yorkers Remember the Spanish Civil War

Hearing and seeing these old New Yorkers tell their stories was uniquely educational. I’m thankful that they participated. Seeing the faces put to names I had heard earlier was very interesting, and often entertaining.

I found some of the content particularly interesting, and decided to write it down:

Vera Schiller said, “The times made us political.” This idea makes me wonder: If people would make themselves “political” all the time, rather than just at dire and demanding times such as the 1930s, could they more effectively avert or subvert socio-political injustice altogether?

Jay Greenfield said, “If you believe in something, and you say you believe in it, you ought to be willing to put your body where your mouth is.”

Abraham Lincoln Brigade veteran Abe Osheroff said, “Legitimate anger is a form of love… and a person who’s incapable of being angry, is incapable of loving.”

On resisting fascism, Abe said, “You resist, whether you win or lose, you resist… The process of resistance itself is rewarding, to you as a person, ‘cause once you know that it’s shitty and lousy, and you do nothing about it, you lose a piece of yourself.” I agree with Abe here, that this type of resistance is rewarding, and that standing up for justice when it is imperiled is fulfilling to our humanity.

I invite my classmates and any other readers I may have to comment on these quotes. Do you agree/disagree? Like/dislike? Have any interpretations? Did any other stories or quotes from the DVD stand out?

Comments are always welcome on my other posts as well.

ALBA Visit #4

The last folder of George Boehm’s letters to Sylvia was a faster read than the first two, because, although there were a total of 28 letters (spanning January to July 1938), they were generally more brief and to the point.

It turns out that Sylvia’s correspondence continued to grow less frequent, which distressed George. Nonetheless, he continued writing faithfully, and did not really question the lack of letters from her. As far as I can tell, there is no explanation for her minimal correspondence, which leaves me wondering what was going on with Sylvia. Did she actually write as infrequently as it seems? If so, why? Or did her letters somehow not reach George? These questions remain especially salient to me because the Sylvia Boehm Acker Papers contain none of the letters from Sylvia to George. Sylvia’s letters could have answered those questions, or at least provided some insight, and their absence raises more questions. Why is the collection devoid of her letters to George? Were they lost or omitted or what? Perhaps George did not save Sylvia’s letters, perhaps Sylvia deliberately omitted them from the collection, or perhaps they were destroyed or lost because of the war.

It also turns out that George’s tone grew more anxious and pessimistic. He continues detailing the war, discussing everything from battle results, to sleeping in foxholes for safety, to his emotions. His emotional discourse seems predominated by the growing conflict between his longing to come home and see Sylvia, and his determination to do everything he can for the Republic and act in such a way that he will not regret. George seriously considers going home since he has served enough months to do so, but his determination to continue fighting wins out. This is a lamentable crossroads, and it makes me hope that I never find myself in a situation like George’s. If I could talk to him today, I wonder what he would regret, if anything. George did not mention having any regrets in his letters.

ALBA Visit #3

Today I attempted to finish reading George Boehm’s letters to his wife Sylvia, but I only got through the second folder of three. It took a surprisingly long time to read and filter the contents of the 22 letters, spanning from August 1937 to early January 1938. So, George Boehm will be the focus of one more blog entry, to conclude my thoughts and findings.

In my last entry, I guessed correctly that George would write in more detail about the war and his involvement. He completely drops his stance of reluctance to discuss the war, and stops providing rationale for the content of his letters. Naturally, the content gets more graphic, as he begins discussing battles, his training (beginning August 1937), and eventually his involvement in fighting (beginning October 1937) and his reaction to the violence surrounding him. He is clearly under stress (for example, he takes up smoking for the first time), but at the same his resolve is strengthening and his optimism is peaking. But why do George’s resolve and optimism improve? For one thing, he comments on the positive morale fostered by his comrades, an invaluable source of encouragement. He reaches the point where his ideology is being tested under fire, and his pro-republican sentiment remains unwavering. Another factor may be that he is learning Spanish; he enjoys communicating and connecting with the Spanish people, and becomes proficient to the point where he writes an entire letter to Sylvia in Spanish (December 10, 1937). Perhaps the unfettered discussion of war is therapeutic for George. And perhaps he was the type of person who does well under pressure.

However, I used the word “peaking” when referring to George’s optimism because there are still threads of pessimism woven throughout George’s letters, which seem to play a minimal, yet increasing role as time passes. Two points stand out. One, George is distressed by what seems to be the decreasing frequency of mail from Sylvia. He usually notes the dates he receives mail from her, and he is especially happy at these times, but he also mentions the several-week intervals between correspondence, wondering if he is somehow at fault or if mail is being misdirected. The other point George dwells on increasingly is the need for more foreign assistance, especially his desire for intervention by a power like America, England, or France. This realization becomes more and more powerful, and at one point George goes so far as to hint at the impossibility of winning without extra international assistance. So, I wonder if the correspondence from Sylvia grows even less frequent, and I wonder if George’s pessimistic tendencies take the reigns as time wears on.

To be continued…

ALBA Visit #2

This past Saturday I began reading the Sylvia Boehm Acker Papers, focusing on the letters sent to Sylvia, who lived in New York City, by her husband George Boehm, a fervently anti-fascist Abraham Lincoln Brigade (ALB) volunteer. His letters begin February 27, 1937, when he first enlisted and arrived in Paris, and end July 1938, when he was killed during the battle of Ebro. I read the first of three folders, which contains twenty letters, covering February through July 1937. This indicates that George was writing an average of one letter per week, but I suspect he wrote more, because of various references in his writing to more frequent correspondence, seemingly several times per week before he arrived in Spain in April 1937. Perhaps some letters were lost or omitted. Regardless, there is more than enough material in the first folder to begin drawing insights from George’s experience in Spain.

First and foremost, George wrote of his love for Sylvia and his longing for her (although he very seldom used the word “love”). He put great emphasis on his desire to hear from her, and I get the impression that her correspondence was a great source of encouragement for him, as correspondence was for many volunteers. In addressing Sylvia, George was at his most eloquent, dropping many a charming one-liner such as: “You know, that without you, even Paris can become dull…”^[1] Most of the other content of George’s letters was small talk, but certain points stand out and raise some interesting questions.

Between February and July 1937, George was doing office work, far from the front lines. However, as his letters progress, it seems that his workload is growing, he is feeling increasingly harried, and the front lines are likely receding towards his position. This impression becomes strong only after reading all twenty letters; he insists repeatedly that he would rather not discuss the war, but his optimism wavers and he lets some details slip from time to time. I wonder why George did not want to discuss the war. Many other volunteers wrote about it frequently. I suppose in those first few months the war was not imminently threatening to George, or perhaps he avoided war-related discussion to help him cope with the stress. One reason he often gave Sylvia was that the newspapers would do a better job of reporting on the war than he could. But this deprives us of first-hand accounts that Sylvia may have wanted to hear and that no newspaper could capture. Perhaps George realized this and felt compelled to give an excuse, or perhaps he really believed he had nothing much to say. Given the trend of his first twenty letters and his ever-closer proximity to combat, I bet that he wrote about the war in more detail in his later letters. I will find out during my next visit to ALBA. Fortunately, George dropped enough puzzle pieces for us to assemble a decent partial picture of his experiences between February and July 1937, and the letters I have yet to read will likely shed much more light on George’s odyssey.

Citations

1. 2^nd letter, Feb 27, 1937; Sylvia Boehm Acker Papers; ALBA 202; box 1; folder 10

Tamiment Library/Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

Elmer Holmes Bobst Library

70 Washington Square South

New York, NY 10012, New York University Libraries.

ALBA Visit #1

Today at Tamiment Library, looking through the binders that catalogue the Abraham Lincoln Brigade Archives (ALBA), it quickly became clear how formidable the volume and variety of documentation to which we have access is. There are so many areas of interest addressed by the writings of the veterans and their friends and family, from the fighting to the politics to the culture to more specific topics like the roles of women and African Americans, among many other things. This first visit got me thinking about what topic(s) I would like to hone in on for future projects, and I am still thinking; there is a plethora of material to sift through and consider.

As I looked through several veterans’ writings today, just to get an impression of what I will be working with, I did not focus on any particular stories, but I did begin to consider common threads and their implications. One striking commonality is that all of the Americans involved with the Republic were volunteers. The fact that all of these men and women were involved voluntarily is phenomenal, and I find them especially courageous and selfless when considering how much they stood to lose. First and foremost they stood to lose their own lives, and of course their connections to loved ones, family, friends, causes, and other interests back home, as made abundantly clear by the extensive and endearing content of various diaries, documents, and letters. These writings discuss love, longing, and the mental and emotional leaps of faith involved in leaving home, and risking life and limb to defend beliefs, and the people who shared those beliefs, from a fascist force hell bent on the destruction of those people and beliefs. The humanizing effect of these writings is simultaneously inspiring and gut-wrenching; to think that young (and some not-so-young) people from a different era, with whom I nonetheless have much in common, could uproot their lives, go to Spain, fight, and die for their cause. I appreciate those who fought for the Republic, as well as those who fought many other wars throughout history, to defend ideas and freedoms that I value, but at the same time I wonder how I would feel and what I would do if I found myself in a position similar to theirs…