The story of Ben Zion Bernstein stands as a testament to the valor and sacrifice of soldiers in World War II. As a member of the prestigious First Special Service Force, a specialized unit in the US military, Bernstein was subjected to intense training, preparing for missions that required exceptional skill and bravery. His dedication and courage were evident in his first combat assignment, which unfortunately became his last. On December 3, 1943, he was killed during the brutal battle at Monte La Difensa, an Italian mountain where American forces sought to dislodge a Nazi stronghold. Bernstein, serving as a technician fourth grade, gave his life for his country while storming the heights of Monte La Difensa.
Although Bernstein’s siblings and their descendants were aware of his status as a war hero, the specifics of his sacrifice were shrouded in mystery for many years. What his family did not know until recently was that despite being a proud Jew, he had been laid to rest beneath a Latin cross for over eight decades at the Sicily-Rome American Cemetery in Nettuno, Italy. This oversight was corrected thanks to Shalom Lamm, a dedicated historian affiliated with a non-profit organization called Operation Benjamin. This organization collaborates with the American Battle Monuments Commission to identify Jewish soldiers who were incorrectly buried under Latin crosses rather than appropriate symbols like the Star of David, thereby restoring their legacy and honoring their faith.
In a significant ceremony marking this long-overdue recognition, several nieces, nephews, grandnieces, and grandnephews of Bernstein traveled to Italy to witness the replacement of the cross with a Star of David. The event was deeply meaningful for Bernstein’s family, especially given his strong ties to his Jewish identity. Ben Sheridan, a nephew named after his uncle, expressed deep appreciation for Lamm’s work, noting it helped bring to light the legacy of a man who made a profound sacrifice.
On the eve of the ceremony, the family trekked through what they called the “easy part” of the mountain where Bernstein fell, reflecting on the grave reality of war. They stood before a bunker from which Nazi soldiers had thrown a grenade that fatally wounded him. To their surprise, Shalom Lamm had arranged for Brad Hicks, grandson of Major General Robert T. Frederick, to join them. Frederick was instrumental in organizing and leading the First Special Service Force, and Hicks shared profound respect for the battles fought by soldiers like Bernstein. He noted that current special forces still study the Battle of Monte La Difensa as a part of their training, illustrating how the legacy of bravery and sacrifice continues through generations.
Lamm elucidated the common issue of Jewish service members being buried under the wrong religious symbols, pointing out that many chose to suppress their faith on their dog tags for various reasons, including fears of persecution if captured. Lamm emphasizes the need to rectify these historical errors, as many Jewish soldiers faced dire consequences if their faith was revealed during the war. Underlining the importance of their mission, Lamm stated that while the US military endeavored to honor all its servicemen correctly, mistakes were inevitably made, and their goal is to amend these oversights.
The challenge is not minor; Lamm must gather substantial evidence to prove a soldier was buried under the wrong symbol, as changes cannot occur without family approval. This rigorous research often unveils new information regarding the deceased’s life, enriching the families’ understanding of their relatives. For Bernstein, Lamm’s findings allowed his family to reconnect with a relative they had only known as a shadowy figure in memory, illustrating how history can provide newfound clarity and connection.
In tandem with Bernstein’s story, the recount of Second Lieutenant Paul Singer and Second Lieutenant Sheldon Finder highlights the tragic irony of Jewish soldiers’ identities in the military landscape. Both men served on a B-24 Liberator during a critical mission in 1943 but were killed in the same attack. In a poignant twist, while Finder was honored with a Star of David at the Sicily-Rome American Cemetery, Singer’s grave remained marked by a Latin cross for decades. With the same ceremony that honored Bernstein, Singer’s grave was also corrected, symbolically restoring his identity after years of misrepresentation.
Singer’s family, though challenging to find due to his orphaned status, was honored in Italy alongside the Finder family. Family members expressed their newfound connection to their cousin’s legacy and the importance of keeping his memory alive. The emotional weight of honoring these service members echoes through the voices of their relatives, who see the restoration of their identities as a reconciliation of their histories and faith, reaffirming their commitment to remembering these heroes who fought and died for their convictions.