Shmuel Mavashev

“Shmuel (Alexander) Abramovich Mavashev was the third son and fifth child in the family of Abram Chaim and Rivka Mavashev. He was born on January 10, 1924, in the city of Kazalinsk, Kazakhstan. From childhood, Shmuel was known for his kindness, compassion, and zest for life.

In 1930, when his father, Abram Chaim, was forced to leave the country due to increased scrutiny by the authorities, he took Shmuel, who was only 6 years old at the time, and his daughter Sara, who was 9 years old, with the intention of illegally crossing the border into Afghanistan and then sending them to their grandmother Ona in Eretz-Israel. However, the guide they hired and paid turned out to be an informant, and he betrayed them to the border guards. The father was arrested, and the children were sent back home.

Nevertheless, after 50 years, in 1979, Shmuel, along with his family, was able to repatriate to Israel.

Message from Shmuel Mavashev

Dear brothers, sisters, nephews and nieces, grandchildren and great-grandchildren,

I have lived a long life, experienced many joys and trials that have made me stronger and wiser. Human life is a journey where we encounter difficulties that teach us to cherish life, develop our wisdom, and shape our character.

Our family has also faced its own challenges. We remember our father, Abram Chaim Mavashev, who lived in Jerusalem, but we, his children, became orphans at an early age. My brothers and sisters were always there, helping and protecting us. Despite the difficult times in the 1930s and the war in 1941, we all received an education. We take pride in the achievements of our brothers who earned doctoral degrees. We have wonderful children, sons-in-law and daughters-in-law, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

We always remember the lessons our parents gave us: not to hold grudges and not to offend others, to value friendship, and never to betray friends for the sake of money. We are proud of our parents who, in the short time they spent with us, were able to instill goodness and values that are dear to us today.

Among us, we no longer have our dear sisters Frida, Sara, and Tamara, brothers David and Abo, nieces Luba, Murdukhai, and Daniel. Among us, we also no longer have daughters-in-law Oli, Dora, Bahmal, Alla, and sons-in-law David-Hai, Ruben, and Nison. May the earth rest lightly upon them, and may their souls find peace in Heaven. We will forever cherish their memory in our hearts.

With love and pride for each of you, Alexander Mavashev

These lines are from the memories of Shmuel Mavashev.

After completing the 7th grade of secondary school, I entered the Tashkent Electromechanical Technical College. In 1941, at the age of 17, after completing the college, I started working as an assistant locomotive engineer. In January 1942, despite my young age and my status as a minor, I volunteered to go to the front with my brothers David and Abo to participate in the defeat of the enemy.

In 1946, I was demobilized and sent to the Tashkent Railroad Administration. From 1953 and for five years, I studied in the evening department of the physics and mathematics faculty at the Tashkent Pedagogical Institute and also taught mathematics in parallel. In the end, I became the school’s director.

My life began in difficult conditions, and death was often close to me. Lately, when I can’t sleep, I remember those wartime days.

Photo: Shmuel Mavashev with his wife Berta (Yusupov) Mavashev.

The battles against the fascists were extremely difficult. We were constantly bombed, shelled with artillery, and attacked by tanks. I remember how soldiers crossed swamps, carrying four cannon shells each, saw stuck or drowned vehicles, trenches, and dugouts, experienced hunger, and lost comrades… Most of us go into battle shouting ‘For the Motherland!’ The first battle was the Battle of Kursk, where many of my comrades perished. The next clash was in the defense of the city of Kamianets-Podilskyi and lasted for 6 days. The enemy launched 16 attacks, and 16 times they were repelled to their initial positions. In this battle, I lost my best fighters – after all, I was now commanding a squad at the age of 18.”

“Next, our next stage was the liberation of the cities Chernivtsi and Lviv. The roads were destroyed, supplies were halted, and we ran out of fuel. At one point, we had to stop the convoy of vehicles and send two soldiers to check the situation with fuel in other brigades. At that time, the Nazis surrounded us near Lviv, at Davydovka Station, and launched a fierce attack. We were under heavy fire, and there was nowhere to hide. It was only thanks to the two soldiers I sent and their heroic efforts, along with the arrival of fighters from another brigade, that we managed to break free from the encirclement. It was another moment when death narrowly missed me, and I survived.

Another episode that stands out in my memory occurred in February 1945 when we crossed the Oder River. I sent a few soldiers ahead to secure a safe passage for the battery. They encountered a German bunker along their way, and an unequal battle began. However, my fighters and I came to their aid and were able to break through the enemy’s defenses.

In the last days of the war, in May 1945, we liberated Prague, the capital of Czechoslovakia, together with the local residents. After the last German soldiers were disarmed and the gunfire ceased, it was impossible to walk the city streets due to the excitement and joy of the citizens who enthusiastically welcomed their liberators.

When I went to the army, I was a naive boy, but when I returned from the front, I had become an adult and made important decisions. My rank as a senior lieutenant and much of what I saw and understood during the four years of the war changed me forever. We went through battles: Kursk, Bakhmach, Chernihiv, Kamianets-Podilskyi, Shapron, Drehovich, Berlin, Prague. We crossed rivers: Dnieper, Danube, Oder, Biber, Spree.

For our unparalleled courage, bravery, and valor displayed in many battles, we were awarded numerous orders and medals, including the Order of the Patriotic War 1st and 2nd Class, the Order of the Red Star, and medals for the capture of Berlin, Prague, and Victory. After Victory, I returned home in an officer’s position, warmly welcomed by my family. A new chapter in my peaceful life began, starting with a job on the railway, where I began as an assistant locomotive engineer and eventually became the deputy head of the personnel department.”

Photo: Mavashev brothers and sisters. Sitting from left to right are: Shmuel, Tamara, David, Sara, Mishoel. Standing: Rafael and Mariya.

From the memoirs of Tamara Mavashev:

In 1946, Shmuel married Bahmal Yusupova, and their union was truly happy. Bahmal was a devoted, caring wife, an excellent mother, a sincere, modest, and extremely attractive woman.In this marriage, in 1951, their daughter Frida was born, who became not only their joy but also the darling of the entire Mavashev and Yusupov families. Frida had a kind and compassionate soul, always ready to lend a helping hand to those in need.

At the age of 30, Samuel, without significant material or educational resources, decided to return to education. He enrolled at the Tashkent Pedagogical Institute while working simultaneously. In 1958, he successfully graduated from the physics and mathematics faculty and dedicated his life to the education and upbringing of children. He worked as a teacher, then became the head of the educational department at a technical college and a school director. Regardless of where he worked, he was always known for his high professionalism, honesty, and fairness, earning respect from his colleagues, students, and their parents.

In 1979, Samuel and his family emigrated to Israel, where he learned Hebrew and found employment in a construction company as an archivist, working there for over 14 years.

Since 1994 and to this day, Samuel has been volunteering at a medical institution. He is also a wonderful family man, a caring father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, proud to live in Israel, just like his parents did. He established a synagogue in memory of his parents, restored a monument to his father buried in Jerusalem, and, through his efforts, sold a house that belonged to his father, as per his father’s will, to the children of Abram Chaim and his brother Itzhak Chaim.

Samuel always had a special and unique relationship with the entire family. He never held grudges against anyone, and his love for us, for our children, was selfless and pure. He called me “Mom,” and our older brother David “Dad.” This meant a lot to us.

His letters from Israel always began with blessings for all of us and ended with words of love and respect. Emigrating was a difficult decision for him, and we understood his worries and concerns. The first letters from Israel brought us anxious feelings, and we feared for his family and their health. But Samuel proved to be a strong man who overcame all difficulties. Perhaps the years in the military made him stronger.

Photo: Shmuel a synagogue in Israel which was built in honor of his father Abram Haim Mavashev and mozer Rivka Nissim.

Having emigrated to the United States, I personally felt the difficulties and concerns he faced during the move. A new country, new laws, a different culture, and a lack of language proficiency – all of these were not easy. But as Samuel himself used to say, “Such is our destiny.” We are grateful to him for his trips to San Diego, which he decided on at an advanced age, to see us and spend time together. It was a great feat for us.

I particularly want to emphasize his love and care for his brother Raphael. He always tried to protect him, offer advice, and help with education and life.

My brother Samuel is a wonderful person, a reliable friend, a faithful comrade! His rich life experience and military discipline were always reflected in his actions. His boundless energy was always directed toward goodness and helping others. We, his brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, are proud of this remarkable, compassionate, and kind-hearted man. Samuel and his wife Bertha raised a wonderful daughter, Frida. She has a beautiful family – her husband Misha Namatiev and their children Alla and Albert.

Talking to Frida is always pleasant – she is intelligent, attentive, affectionate, and caring. She affectionately calls me “Ameshka.” My first visit to Israel in 1987 was memorable for the hospitality and warmth that Frida and her family surrounded me with. We spent many wonderful moments together, including trips to Jerusalem, the sea, and visiting relatives I had not seen since 1930, as well as visiting our father Abram Chaim’s grave and the house where he lived.

I am proud of Samuel and his family.

From Nikolai Gulkarov’s memories of Uncle Shurik:

Uncle Shurik was one of the most beloved uncles in our large Mavashev family. Even in my early childhood, I loved going to his house (fortunately, we lived on neighboring streets) and touching the most beautiful German trophy he brought back from the war – an accordion. It was a beautiful accordion with a shiny, ivory-colored keyboard, small black and white buttons that sank in when lightly pressed and then popped back up. I couldn’t lift or expand the accordion, but I was content with stroking it and pressing the keyboard. Sometimes they would put me on a chair and hand me the accordion, which would unfold and produce what I thought were melodious sounds without any effort on my part.

On holidays, Uncle Shurik would put on his Sunday suit adorned with medals and orders. We, the nieces and nephews, tried to stand nearby, as if emphasizing our close family ties. In these moments of life, I dreamed of going to war and earning such awards. I knew that Uncle Shurik worked on a locomotive, and that was also a dream not only of mine but of many children in those distant 1950s.

On holidays, it was customary for our large family to gather together, and, of course, Uncle Shurik and his family were also present. Always cheerful, composed, respectful of all of us, especially his brothers and sisters. I can’t remember an instance when Uncle Shurik expressed his displeasure or annoyance. His offense was expressed by placing both hands on his knees, slightly bending forward, and saying, “Yes, of course, you’re right, I know nothing, you all know everything,” shaking his head.

Everyone loved him. Loved him for the purity of his relationships, his honesty and truthfulness, and the fact that despite his low teacher’s salary, he never complained or showed that he was struggling. He never came empty-handed or pretended to forget someone’s birthday.

He was loved for his responsiveness and sympathy during the difficult days of our lives, for his desire to help and support. On the days of mourning, when my father, Ruben, passed away (I was 14 years old), the only person – I’ll repeat, the only person – from our entire huge family, Uncle Shurik comforted me and asked me not to cry. He moved me away from my father’s grave when people were pushing me toward it, led me aside, and said, “Don’t look at that; it’s not for you to see. Don’t cry. Look at how many graves there are, and all of them had children too. That’s the human life. Here, my mother Rivka is buried too.”

Why do I remember this? Because he loved and respected us, the children. He saw us as individuals and never made fun of or insulted us. The only thing he allowed himself to do was to joke with us, which we always enjoyed.

Once, I visited Uncle Shurik at his workplace in the Art School, where he supervised the academic department and taught mathematics. Despite my young age (I was in the 7th or 8th grade), he came out of his office and gave me a tour of the entire institution, explaining where the various classrooms were and what subjects were taught. When we encountered the teachers, he proudly introduced me, saying, “This is my nephew, the son of my older sister.” And he did it with such pride and love! This habit stayed with him throughout his life, only with time, he added to it, saying, “This is my nephew, a candidate of sciences, teaching at the institute.” Uncle Shurik hired me when I was in my second year at the institute, initially as a lab assistant, and later as a physics teacher for the 6th and 7th grades.

The school to which Uncle Shurik was appointed as director was entirely new. We had to start from scratch, with a new team and new equipment. I worked in this school for four years, and it provided me with valuable pedagogical experience that I couldn’t have gained in the institute. This experience gave me self-confidence and the necessary skills, which helped me successfully pass the probation when I applied for a position at the Polytechnic Institute, in the Department of General Physics.

Photo: Alexander (Shmuel) Abramovich’s school faculty (1966).

During our years of working together, my opinion of Uncle Shurik (who I now referred to as Alexander Abramovich) not only remained the same but grew even more positive. The school had a large staff, and classes were held in two shifts. Everyone knew that Alexander Abramovich arrived first and left last. At the end of the working day, he would walk through all the floors of the school, ensuring everything was in order and making notes of what needed to be addressed by the caretaker for the next day. When he met with teachers, he could joke, but if he needed to express dissatisfaction, he did it in a strict but constructive manner, always making it clear that it was a request for improvement. This approach earned him the love, respect, and admiration of the entire school.

Alexander Abramovich, through his leadership, united the staff at our school to such an extent that it became recognized as the best in the district by all indicators. Our students consistently achieved top rankings in citywide sports competitions and demonstrated the best results in mathematics, physics, chemistry, and vocational training olympiads. Other school directors and teachers would visit us for knowledge exchange. Alexander Abramovich would have his lunch with the students, showing his closeness and attention to them. Additionally, for the 10th-grade graduates, he organized wonderful graduation evenings, inviting parents and teachers of the graduating classes. The Parent Committee raised funds to decorate tables and buy flowers. He also monitored the kitchen’s operations to ensure fresh and high-quality meals.

Typically, schools like ours received special attention from higher authorities, and they were quick to reprimand for any mistakes. In 1968, an incident occurred. The Parent Committee decided to raise money for organizing a graduation evening after handing out the diplomas. As a result of this action, only Alexander Abramovich was punished. The Minister of Education of the Uzbek SSR temporarily relieved him of his position as school director due to the actions of the Parent Committee.

Although the order to reverse this decision was issued a year later, it was already impossible for him to return to his team and his “brainchild.” After Alexander Abramovich left the school, troubled times began. The new director faced resistance from the staff, and after a year, she submitted her resignation, recommending the return of Alexander Abramovich. The Parent Committee wrote to the Ministers of Education at both the republic and union levels, and committee members even scheduled appointments at the Ministry of Education of the USSR in Moscow, with the sole aim of preserving the school and reinstating Alexander Abramovich as the director. Unfortunately, all their efforts proved futile.

After leaving the school, Alexander Abramovich continued his teaching career at other schools. In 1979, Uncle Shurik obtained permission to immigrate to Israel with his family. Emigration was challenging due to the socialist reality and the need to resign from work and leave the party. However, despite all the difficulties, he made this decision, unable to imagine his life without his brothers and sisters.

Uncle Shurik proved to be a strong and determined individual, having gone through numerous difficulties, much like his wartime experiences. The Shmuel family was allowed to leave the country, but they weren’t permitted to take their military awards with them. Uncle Shurik was a devoted and loving family man, with a particularly warm and touching love for his wife, Berta, and daughter, Frida. His love for them was an indispensable part of who he was. This tall and handsome man was truly devoted to his family. Aunt Berta, his wife, was a kind, hospitable, and wise woman. She never raised her voice at anyone and preferred silence over causing harm. When they had guests, she would immediately run to the refrigerator to prepare snacks. I don’t know if there was anyone who could refuse her offerings; she had a special way of convincing people that made it impossible to say no.

I remember during one of our visits to Uncle Shmuel and Aunt Bahmal in Israel, we were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying a meal. At one point, Aunt Berta left for the television and started watching a series. She was so engrossed in the plot, sighing, wiping away tears, and expressing joy, that she forgot about us. Uncle Shurik explained that she became so immersed in the story and its characters that it was impossible to tear her away from the TV, even though the movie was being shown for the second time.

Aunt Berta was an avid reader and a knowledgeable woman. My mom said she had extensive knowledge of Bukharian-Jewish songs, and her father was a folklorist. Our family always held Aunt Berta’s brothers and sisters in high regard. Her brothers lived in Samarkand, and when they visited, the entire family would come together to discuss various life matters. Her sister, Tamara Yakubova, was a tall and beautiful woman, kind and compassionate. After Aunt Berta’s departure to Israel, Aunt Tamara would often visit us, bringing letters from her sister. Over tea, they reminisced about the years gone by, discussed the letters, comforted each other, and hoped for better times and reunions with their loved ones. One day, Aunt Tamara brought a letter from Berta, and my mom said, “Don’t speak like that; Berta will be just fine. Don’t worry.” A week later, we were bidding our final farewell to Aunt Tamara. May she rest in peace.

The only daughter of Shurik and Berta, Frida, always displayed independence and confidence in her actions. She excelled in her studies and was disciplined. I remember how impressively Frida loved her cousin, Joseph (John), who lived nearby. He gave her a lot of attention, played with her, and told her stories. She looked at him with admiration and a smile, as if he were a god. This love for her cousin remains with her to this day. Frida was not one to mock or be unkind to others; she was always ready to lend a helping hand and offer guidance. I was fortunate to work with her for about a year at the Polytechnic Institute. She was diligent, always approached her work with a strong sense of responsibility, and carried out her duties skillfully. After immigrating to Israel, Frida changed her profession. Her quick wit, persistence, and determination allowed her to master a new field, and she worked for about 30 years at the municipal institution responsible for private house construction.

Frida possesses the incredible art of communicating with people. Her way of speaking, slow and in a low tone, adds importance, authority, self-possession, and calmness to the conversation from the very beginning. Positive emotions arise immediately, and conversations with her are always enjoyable. This communication style reflects her culture and upbringing.

Despite the challenges of immigration, the Shmuel family, in memory of their parents, managed to establish a synagogue in the city of Lud and install a memorial board that mentions their departed parents and close relatives. We will always be grateful to them for this.

Uncle Shurik proved to be a strong and determined individual, having gone through numerous difficulties, much like his wartime experiences. The Shmuel family was allowed to leave the country, but they weren’t permitted to take their military awards with them. Uncle Shurik was a devoted and loving family man, with a particularly warm and touching love for his wife, Berta, and daughter, Frida. His love for them was an indispensable part of who he was. This tall and handsome man was truly devoted to his family. Aunt Berta, his wife, was a kind, hospitable, and wise woman. She never raised her voice at anyone and preferred silence over causing harm. When they had guests, she would immediately run to the refrigerator to prepare snacks. I don’t know if there was anyone who could refuse her offerings; she had a special way of convincing people that made it impossible to say no.

I remember during one of our visits to Uncle Shmuel and Aunt Bahmal in Israel, we were sitting at the dinner table, enjoying a meal. At one point, Aunt Berta left for the television and started watching a series. She was so engrossed in the plot, sighing, wiping away tears, and expressing joy, that she forgot about us. Uncle Shurik explained that she became so immersed in the story and its characters that it was impossible to tear her away from the TV, even though the movie was being shown for the second time.

Aunt Berta was an avid reader and a knowledgeable woman. My mom said she had extensive knowledge of Bukharian-Jewish songs, and her father was a folklorist. Our family always held Aunt Berta’s brothers and sisters in high regard. Her brothers lived in Samarkand, and when they visited, the entire family would come together to discuss various life matters. Her sister, Tamara Yakubova, was a tall and beautiful woman, kind and compassionate. After Aunt Berta’s departure to Israel, Aunt Tamara would often visit us, bringing letters from her sister. Over tea, they reminisced about the years gone by, discussed the letters, comforted each other, and hoped for better times and reunions with their loved ones. One day, Aunt Tamara brought a letter from Berta, and my mom said, “Don’t speak like that; Berta will be just fine. Don’t worry.” A week later, we were bidding our final farewell to Aunt Tamara. May she rest in peace.

The only daughter of Shurik and Berta, Frida, always displayed independence and confidence in her actions. She excelled in her studies and was disciplined. I remember how impressively Frida loved her cousin, Joseph (John), who lived nearby. He gave her a lot of attention, played with her, and told her stories. She looked at him with admiration and a smile, as if he were a god. This love for her cousin remains with her to this day. Frida was not one to mock or be unkind to others; she was always ready to lend a helping hand and offer guidance. I was fortunate to work with her for about a year at the Polytechnic Institute. She was diligent, always approached her work with a strong sense of responsibility, and carried out her duties skillfully. After immigrating to Israel, Frida changed her profession. Her quick wit, persistence, and determination allowed her to master a new field, and she worked for about 30 years at the municipal institution responsible for private house construction.

Frida possesses the incredible art of communicating with people. Her way of speaking, slow and in a low tone, adds importance, authority, self-possession, and calmness to the conversation from the very beginning. Positive emotions arise immediately, and conversations with her are always enjoyable. This communication style reflects her culture and upbringing.

Despite the challenges of immigration, the Shmuel family, in memory of their parents, managed to establish a synagogue in the city of Lud and install a memorial board that mentions their departed parents and close relatives. We will always be grateful to them for this.

First anniversary of the memory of Alexander Mavashev

The first anniversary of the memory of Alexander Mavashev. On 21 Svevat 5783 ie January 30, 2024 passed away his father, uncle, grandfather Alexander Abramovich Mavashev. We express our sincere condolences to the family for the loss of Alexander Abramovich. This is a great tragedy for you and for all those who were fortunate enough to know and love this outstanding man. He was the possessor of high human qualities such as purity of relationships, honesty, responsiveness and courage. His participation in the Great Patriotic War and his subsequent years devoted to the education of the younger generation serve as an excellent example for all of us. His life and creativity will remain an eternal source of inspiration for his family, relatives and friends. Eternal memory and low bow