RUTHFULLY YOURS

We were on the Serpa Pinto, on the high seas destined from Hitler to FDR, or whoever would take us in. FDR refused.

So we were headed for Philadelphia, and after that, who knew?

But along with the rest of the huddled men, women and children on board, we were the few who had managed to escape.

We were on the Serpa Pinto, on the high seas destined from Hitler to FDR, or whoever would take us in. FDR refused.
We were free.

Except for the German U-Boats.

They still wanted us.

We could be stopped at any moment. Sunk. Taken back. Or shot on sight.

The Serpa Pinto had sailed from Lisbon, Portugal. Somehow a deal was done and three voyages were specially arranged to transport the survivors. We were on the first [wartime] trip, an adventure from beginning to end. People knew that there were German torpedo boats and submarines on patrol, so there was no rejoicing. This was 1944.

The ship had to do summersaults and zigzags to avoid being stopped or hit, so if you were prone to seasickness you got seasick. I threw up a few times.

I did not know exactly what was going on as I was but four years old. But I sensed the tension. These were people, like my parents, who’d left behind everything.

The nausea was with me throughout and I searched for smiles and laughter and there was some of that among the passengers, but not much.

We were the uprooted. The world had used us and toyed with us and even now, anything could be done to us.

We had no powers. We had no rights.

Earlier, Hitler had used another ship, the Saint Louis, to prove that the entire world was in cahoots with him. The Saint Louis was turned back from every port – including the United States – and virtually all the refugee passengers were sent back to the welcoming arms of the Gestapo.

So, as my mother used to say, “We were the lucky ones.”

Later, and only a few years later, Jews would prove themselves to be mighty warriors.

But not at this moment, as the ship tossed and heaved.

This wasn’t like cruising on the Queen Mary.

As the ship drew closer to some New Land, people began to shed their helplessness and some even grew bold.

“Why so many pineapples?”

I guessed as much myself. What’s with the pineapples?

Everywhere, pineapples. Pineapples for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner and for snacks.

More than the seasickness, this was the cause of my nausea.

Pineapples are good. There is nothing more harmless than a pineapple. It is nourishment, after all. But so many?

I can’t remember the exact moment, but a mutiny began – against the pineapples.

We had no army against the Nazis. But we could fight the pineapples. Weren’t they just as ubiquitous as the Nazis?

Everywhere you turned – here was a Nazi.

Now everywhere you turned – here was a pineapple.

Therefore, the pineapples were Nazis.

As before, we were outnumbered by them, but this time we had a strategy.

We would toss them overboard.

The word was passed and all the men and even all the women and even all the kids, that included me, gathered up all the pineapples, tossed them on deck and then began hurling them into the ocean – with fury and with curses. We were determined to let not a single pineapple survive.

So we arrived in Philadelphia, beaten, broken, but not defeated.

Jack Engelhard writes a regular column for Arutz Sheva. The new thriller from the New York-based novelist, The Bathsheba Deadline, a heroic editor’s singlehanded war on terror and against media bias. Engelhard wrote the int’l bestseller Indecent Proposal that was translated into more than 22 languages and turned into a Paramount motion picture starring Robert Redford and Demi Moore. Website: www.jackengelhard.com