A Jewish Chaplain in FranceLevinger, Lee J. (Lee Joseph)
Religion
A Jewish Chaplain in France
Levinger, Lee J. (Lee Joseph)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Jews
When I knew for certain that I was to remain in France I asked for my
two weeks' leave and departed for the Riviera via Paris. It was my
fourth visit to the metropolis, a city which grows only more wonderful
at every view. Its boulevards and parks, public buildings and shops were
always attractive; in addition, the art treasures were now beginning to
come back to their places, and the crowds were taking on the gaiety of
peace time in the brilliantly lighted streets, so different from the
sober groups and dismal streets during the war. This trip carried me
beyond to a land of myriad attractions and surpassing loveliness. The
mediaeval monuments of Avignon, the Roman antiquities of Arles and Nimes,
the splendid modern city of Marseilles, Toulon with its quaint streets
and charming harbor, Hyeres of the palm trees, and on to Cannes, to
Nice, that greater Atlantic City, Grasse with its flowers and perfumes,
and Monte Carlo, garden spot of the whole--all blended in a mosaic whose
brilliant colors can never fade. Overhanging mountains and sub-tropical
sea together unite all the types of attraction of all beautiful lands
the world over. The palms and flowers never seemed quite real to me,
while one was quite bewildered by the works of man--ancient monuments,
mediaeval art, and the most modern trappings of contemporary play and
luxury.
At Cannes I met Captain Limburger, in charge of the Motor Transportation
Corps there, who helped me to reach the officers' convalescent hospital
at Hyeres to search for a friend. The trip of eighty-five miles by
side-car was the bright particular spot in the whole gorgeous festival
of the Coast of Azure, up the heights of the Maritime Alps into the
clouds and down again to the edge of the blue inland sea, past ruined
castles of the Roman time and through the quaint southern villages of
nowadays; ending finally at the hospital, which turned out to be the San
Salvador, one of the most splendid winter hotels on the Mediterranean. I
even heard Francis Macmillan, a captain in the intelligence corps, give
a violin concert for the officers during my one evening there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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