Blessed is the Match, The Hannah Senesh Story

Blessed is the Match, The Hannah Senesh Story

Suzanne Marsh

The occupant of the stone-cold prison cell, with a small, dull light bulb hanging overhead. There is no time for tears; she finds a small piece of paper on which she writes a farewell message to her mother, Katrina, then a final poem; she has been informed that her execution is less than an hour away. The letter is her final goodbye:

"Dearest Mother,

I don’t know what to say- only this, a million thanks, and forgive me if you can.

You know well why words aren’t necessary."

She hides the note and the last poem she has written:

"One-two-three...eight feet long

Two strides across, the rest is dark…

Life is a fleeting question mark

one-two-three...maybe another week.

Or the next month may still find me here,

But death, I feel, is very near.

I gambled on what mattered most.

The dice were cast.

I lost."

Moments later, Major Simon entered her cell:

“Fraulein Senesh, it is time.” The guards jostle her as she walks down a stone corridor into the October sun. She blinks as her eyes adjust to the light. The long stone wall has a stake in front of it halfway down. Hannah stands tall, Major Simon:

“Do you not want the blindfold? It will be better if you do not see the rifles.”

“No, no blindfold, I want to see death coming for me.”

Six soldiers raised their rifles:

“Ready, aim, fire.”

Hannah’s body slumped down at the stake, and she died at the age of twenty-three.

Major Simon returned to Hannah’s cell, where he found the letter to her mother, Katrina. He decided that it would serve no purpose to withhold it. He also saw the last poem she wrote, which should also be given to her mother. He sent for Katrina: “Your daughter left these in her cell; she died this morning.” He turned and walked away from Katrina; he did not wish to see her face with tears welling up in her eyes.

Katrina stood silently for a moment before she left the prison with the two scraps of paper

clutched in her hand. She paced herself; if she were to pick up the pace, the Gestapo might arrest her again or arrest her son Gyorgy. She opened the door, went into Bela’s library, and sat in his leather chair, a place she often went when she needed to feel his closeness. Bela had a distinguished career as a journalist and playwright; his library was just as it was when he was alive. She closed her eyes as she there in Bela’s chair; it had been fifteen years since he had passed away, Hannah was eight years old at the time of his death.

Hannah graduated from school in 1939, and her desire to emigrate to Mandatory Palestine to study in the Girls’ Agricultural School at Nahalal. Katrina replayed the argument she had with Hannah:

“Hannah, I forbid you to go to Nahalal, you have no idea what could happen to you there.

The Arabs treat Jews as badly as the Germans do. Stay here in Hungary, where you will be

safe.”

“Mother, I am going, it is what I want to do. I want to join a kibbutz, learn to grow food.”

“Hannah, I hope you do not regret this choice. If you wish to go, I will not stop you.”

“Thank you, mother; I promise I will come home to Hungary in a few years.”

“Hannah, that is a long time.”

“I will write mother, I promise.”

Hannah left the very next day for Nahalal, where she joined the paramilitary that eventually became the foundation of the Israel Defense Forces. 1943 Hannah enlisted in the British Women ‘s Auxiliary Air Force as an Aircraftwoman 2nd Class. She was recruited into the Special Operations Executive (SOE), and she was sent to Egypt for parachute training.

“Pay attention please, it is important to understand how to exit, fly, and land techniques.

You will be going behind enemy lines. If you are caught, we will not be able to help you.

Technique is only part of what you will be learning, you will also learn how to hide

from the enemy, if you have to surrender, all that is required is your name, only. Do not offer the enemy any information. Destroy your transmitter if you

surrender. The enemy wants codes to our transmitters, do not give up the codes for any

reason.”

Hannah listened intently, as a paratrooper and a Jewish volunteer, she knew she would be going behind enemy lines. Parachuting, sabotage, radio transmissions, and survival were items that she was taught; she would be assisting Allied forces and the Yishuv. Volunteers were selected, and Hannah was among the thirty-two to be sent on active missions in Europe.

March 14th, 1944, Hannah and her two colleagues parachuted into Yugoslavia, joining the partisan group led by Commander Tito. Yoel Palgi and Peretz Goldsten parachuted with her; they stayed with the partisans, discovered that the Nazi’s had already invaded Hungary. Yoel and Peretz decided to call the mission off; however, Hannah went into Hungary without them. A local guide and a double agent turned Hannah into the Hungarian gendarmes:

“Give us your transmitter now! We want the codes.”

“I will not give up the codes, no matter what you do to me.”

Hannah’s jaw twitched; she showed fear. The gendarmes took her, along with her confiscated transmitter, to a prison in Budapest. She found herself in a position, she had been warned about. She refused to give anything but her name:

“My name is Hannah Senesh.” She said defiantly. She was stripped, tied to a chair, whipped, and clubbed for three days:

“You will talk, you will tell the codes for your transmitter.”

“I would rather die than give you the information you require. My name is Hannah Senesh.” She was beaten and clubbed, never giving up the codes.

“My name is Hannah Senesh.” In a louder voice: “My name is Hannah Senesh.”

Several of her teeth were knocked out. She was dragged by two guards back to her cell.

Her mother was arrested:

“Fraulein Senesh, your mother has been arrested. Either give us the codes to your transmitter

or we will shoot your mother.”

“My name is Hannah Senesh.” Her mother was brought into the interrogation room, and a horrified gasp was heard at the shocking appearance of her daughter:

“Hello, mother, I am sorry for all this.”

“Hannah, tell them what they want to know, please.”

“Mother, they are going to execute both of us. Please listen. I am being tried for treason. I was

on a mission when I was captured.”

Hannah turned to face her captors:

“I am Hannah Senesh.”

Katrina left the room sobbing; they had let her go. She wanted to find a lawyer for her daughter; no expense was too great.

On November 7th, 1944, Hannah Senesh was executed. Her poem Blessed is the Match is still read today.

“Blessed is the match consumed the kindling flame

Blessed is the flame that burns in the hear’s secret places

Blessed is the heart to strength to stop beating for honor’s sake

Blessed is the match consumed in the kindling flame.”