'I feel it necessary, unpleasant task though it is, to write this letter to you to be posted in the event of my death.'
Anthony Rosen, aged 21, was killed in action in 1944. In a moving letter to his mother, he wrote: 'I desire that you do not wear black and don't grieve. I am in good company.' And he was.
Nearly 3,000 Jewish servicemen and women were killed in the second world war, but it is not just their contribution that is commemorated at the Jewish Military Museum in Hendon. For more than three centuries Jews from Britain and around the world have contributed to the armed forces in the UK.
Getting to, and into, the museum is no mean feat. It's tucked out of the way in the north London suburbs. For obvious reasons, security is tight and the collection can only be viewed by appointment. But it's worth the trek - the welcome is warm, and a personal guided tour by Henry Morris, the volunteer curator, provides a deep and fascinating insight into the subject matter.
The museum is run by the Association of Jewish Ex-Servicemen and Women and its purpose is threefold: to demonstrate pride in the part played by Jews in the armed forces; to show loyalty to Queen and country; and to remember fallen comrades.
There are over 1,000 objects on display and hardly a week goes by without a new donation. As Morris points out, his generation, one that fought in the second world war, are beginning to put their affairs in order; often that means they will donate medals, letters and memorabilia to the museum for safekeeping.
The high-standard displays feature strong graphic panels following the chronological history of the Jewish contribution to the armed forces from before the Boer war to the present day. Each section of the story is illustrated by good visuals, a display of relevant objects and drawers that reveal even more items.
One of the overwhelming strengths of the museum is how the real stories of soldiers, sailors and airmen are shown. In the costume display, above each of the mannequins displaying different uniforms, there is a photograph of the person who wore that particular uniform. It is a striking display and immediately creates a connection between the clothes and the real person.
Morris says his principle is to bring out the personal stories of those who served. Every time someone donates an object, he asks for an image of the person to whom the item was connected. This policy allows the museum to bring alive the reality of conflicts that are far from living memory.
The section on Belsen is a good example of this. Belsen was the only concentration camp to be liberated by the British. Norman Turgel, a Jewish soldier, helped lead the liberating force and was responsible for the arrest of Josef Kramer, the notorious Beast of Belsen.
Against this horrific backdrop of human misery and evil, the redeeming personal story of how Turgel met and married Gena, an inmate of the camp, is sensitively told.
There are plenty of medals and decorations on display, and the Association of Jewish Ex-Servicemen and Women is proud of the fact that eight Jewish servicemen won the Victoria Cross (VC) in the two world wars.
But it is the more personal items that resonate - the hand-drawn prayer service for Passover; the envelope that contained the telegram informing Marcus Segal's parents of his death; a sketch book from a prisoner of war camp; and the many, many letters home.
One of Morris's favourite items is the uniform of Lieutenant Frank de Pass, who was awarded a VC for his bravery in the first world war. As a former tailor by trade, Morris likes the workmanship and quality of the handmade jacket - 'they don't make them like that anymore' - although the brutal reality is that de Pass was killed in action just one month after buying it.
Also striking is the commemorative glass panel made for the museum by Abram Games who designed many famous recruitment posters in the second world war. On the backlit panel, the colours of medal ribbons come together to form a Star of David.
The museum also holds a roll of honour for the more than 60,000 Jewish men and women who served in the second world war. Originally kept on a card index it has now been fully digitised and is searchable in a small research room adjoining the museum.
Morris says that when he started the museum just over ten years ago he didn't have the first idea what he was doing. His passion for the project, his enthusiasm for storytelling and his commitment to the cause have served the museum, and the body of people it represents, well.
Anthony Rosen, aged 21, was killed in action in 1944. In a moving letter to his mother, he wrote: 'I desire that you do not wear black and don't grieve. I am in good company.' And he was.
Nearly 3,000 Jewish servicemen and women were killed in the second world war, but it is not just their contribution that is commemorated at the Jewish Military Museum in Hendon. For more than three centuries Jews from Britain and around the world have contributed to the armed forces in the UK.
Getting to, and into, the museum is no mean feat. It's tucked out of the way in the north London suburbs. For obvious reasons, security is tight and the collection can only be viewed by appointment. But it's worth the trek - the welcome is warm, and a personal guided tour by Henry Morris, the volunteer curator, provides a deep and fascinating insight into the subject matter.
The museum is run by the Association of Jewish Ex-Servicemen and Women and its purpose is threefold: to demonstrate pride in the part played by Jews in the armed forces; to show loyalty to Queen and country; and to remember fallen comrades.
There are over 1,000 objects on display and hardly a week goes by without a new donation. As Morris points out, his generation, one that fought in the second world war, are beginning to put their affairs in order; often that means they will donate medals, letters and memorabilia to the museum for safekeeping.
The high-standard displays feature strong graphic panels following the chronological history of the Jewish contribution to the armed forces from before the Boer war to the present day. Each section of the story is illustrated by good visuals, a display of relevant objects and drawers that reveal even more items.
One of the overwhelming strengths of the museum is how the real stories of soldiers, sailors and airmen are shown. In the costume display, above each of the mannequins displaying different uniforms, there is a photograph of the person who wore that particular uniform. It is a striking display and immediately creates a connection between the clothes and the real person.
Morris says his principle is to bring out the personal stories of those who served. Every time someone donates an object, he asks for an image of the person to whom the item was connected. This policy allows the museum to bring alive the reality of conflicts that are far from living memory.
The section on Belsen is a good example of this. Belsen was the only concentration camp to be liberated by the British. Norman Turgel, a Jewish soldier, helped lead the liberating force and was responsible for the arrest of Josef Kramer, the notorious Beast of Belsen.
Against this horrific backdrop of human misery and evil, the redeeming personal story of how Turgel met and married Gena, an inmate of the camp, is sensitively told.
There are plenty of medals and decorations on display, and the Association of Jewish Ex-Servicemen and Women is proud of the fact that eight Jewish servicemen won the Victoria Cross (VC) in the two world wars.
But it is the more personal items that resonate - the hand-drawn prayer service for Passover; the envelope that contained the telegram informing Marcus Segal's parents of his death; a sketch book from a prisoner of war camp; and the many, many letters home.
One of Morris's favourite items is the uniform of Lieutenant Frank de Pass, who was awarded a VC for his bravery in the first world war. As a former tailor by trade, Morris likes the workmanship and quality of the handmade jacket - 'they don't make them like that anymore' - although the brutal reality is that de Pass was killed in action just one month after buying it.
Also striking is the commemorative glass panel made for the museum by Abram Games who designed many famous recruitment posters in the second world war. On the backlit panel, the colours of medal ribbons come together to form a Star of David.
The museum also holds a roll of honour for the more than 60,000 Jewish men and women who served in the second world war. Originally kept on a card index it has now been fully digitised and is searchable in a small research room adjoining the museum.
Morris says that when he started the museum just over ten years ago he didn't have the first idea what he was doing. His passion for the project, his enthusiasm for storytelling and his commitment to the cause have served the museum, and the body of people it represents, well.
