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This
is the story of a violin bearing the ongoing imprint of the
treks, hardships, valor, and adventures of decades of
experience. Many years ago, during World War II, the violin
was the inseparable companion of Motteleh, a 12-year-old Jew.
The young boy, his violin in hand, hid in the forests of
Belorussia until he encountered Misha, a fearless partisan who
commanded a partisans' camp in the forests.Misha gave Motteleh
his protection and provided permanent refuge for the boy
in the partisans' camp. It quickly became apparent that
Motteleh, an accomplished violinist, could be very helpful to
the partisans.
One
day, the group of partisans headed for the town of Ovruch,
which was still under German control. Motteleh, disguised as a
beggar, sat down next to the church and played his violin. A
forged document in his pocket, specially prepared by one of
the partisans in his group, identified him as the son of Ivan
Kobina, of the village of Listvin, who had been interned in a
Russian POW camp. Motteleh played Ukrainian folk songs and
accompanied them with his soft voice as people slowly gathered
around him and began to drop coins into the small bowl resting
between his legs.
Suddenly a German officer approached, ordering Motteleh to
come with him. Together they walked through the town alleys
until they came to a stone building. As they entered, Motteleh
noticed German officers seated at small tables, eating,
drinking, and speaking in loud voices. The
"escorting" officer led Motteleh to a grand piano in
the corner of the room.
An old man with long gray hair who was sitting at the piano
placed some music in front of Motteleh, ordered him to play,
and then began to accompany him on the piano.
When they finished playing, the officers' cheering filled the
room. The one who had delivered Motteleh was very impressed
with the impromptu concert and suggested that Motteleh play
twice a day at noon and in the evening. In return, he offered
him two marks per day, as well as lunch and dinner. Misha
ordered Motteleh to stay with the Germans and "case"
the building. The facility, they soon discovered, was a
Wehrmacht hostel where the Germans had established a roadside
inn that attracted large numbers of soldiers. As Motteleh
played for the officers, he memorized all the details he saw
and had them forwarded to Misha by courier.
One day after lunch, Motteleh discovered a crack in the wall
of the building, evidently created when the town was
bombarded. The young violinist, influenced by the partisans'
stories about bombs and sabotage, thought that the entire
place, German officers and all, could be blown up if a mine
were inserted into the crack.
The idea was communicated to Misha by courier, and the plan
began to take shape. Misha sent Popov, the partisans' mines
expert, to Motteleh, who briefed him on the building. Popov
calculated that the task would require 18 kilograms of
explosives, and began to teach Motteleh how they were made and
how to lay them so that they would detonate. All that remained
was to place a large quantity of explosives in the cellar
fissure.
This, however, was no simple task because Motteleh had to
visit the cellar each evening. At the door, he withdrew the
violin from its case, placed it in an empty barrel, and left
the building with the empty case. The next day, when he
returned to play, he tucked the case under his arm. Now,
however, it was filled not with a violin but with several
kilograms of explosives. Within a few days, he moved the
entire quantity to the cellar. All that remained was to set
the fuse.
Motteleh chose the appropriate day. An entire SS division had
reached the hostel on its way to the eastern front.
High-ranking officers packed the inn for lunch and supper.
Motteleh and his accompanist made their stay pleasant by
performing for hours. As midnight approached, the manager
allowed the elderly pianist to turn in for the night, and
Motteleh, as usual, went down to the kitchen for his supper.
After eating, he tiptoed into the cellar. There, in the dark,
he groped for the edge of the fuse next to the mine and lit
it. He left the building quickly and began to race down the
alleys toward the river. After taking several more steps, he
heard a deafening explosion accompanied by the shattering of
windowpanes around him.
As he crossed the river, holding his violin over his head, a
large, threatening tongue of flame illuminated the city. On
the opposite bank, as planned, his partisan comrades waited
for him and drove him back to the forest. He was proud for
having avenged the murder of his family.
Little Motteleh did not survive the war, but died about a year
later. Misha, however, zealously guarded Motteleh's permanent
companion, the faithful violin. Misha bequeathed the
instrument to his relatives, and his grandson, Sefi Hanegbi, a
tour guide in the Negev, kept it for many years. Recently,
with the mediation and assistance of violin-maker Amnon
Weinstein, Hanegbi decided to place it in the permanent care
of Yad Vashem.
At a unique ceremony with Keshet Eilon, the international
master classes at Kibbutz Eilon, the violin was handed over to
Avner Shalev in the presence of violinists Ida Handel and
Shlomo Mintz, after a tune by Ernst Bloch was played by
violinist Matan Givol.
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