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This page was last updated on October 28, 2005
Ruth tells in her memoirs: With the war going on for a second year, the mood of the country became more realistic. There were no more predictions about a quick and easy victory. To study and singing became very difficult, almost impossible. Every day this or that friend was called to the army. In a few weeks he would be an accomplished soldier sent to the front and never seen again. Moshe’s conscience didn’t allow him to avoid his duty in spite of all deprivations we had as Jews. He decided after several sleepless nights to enlist and do what all boys did at that time. When he appeared for enlistment he was asked by the army doctor whether he had any complaints in regard to his health. “No,” was his answer. “Good boy,” said the officer, and he was accepted into the army. Two days later he was shipped to Pavlograd for the training center for new recruits.
Ruth was left grieving in Odessa: I could not open my mouth to practice singing. I had a lump in my throat and tears were falling on my music. A visiting relative got interested in Mother’s explanation of my grief and came out with a plan of action to save the situation. He patted me on the shoulder and said, “Your tears will not solve the situation. Sit down and listen to an experienced man.” This proved to be the right thing at the right time. His advice was to let Moshe get adjusted and acquainted with his superiors and with his situation at first at the training camp. In two months I should go and see a Rabbi of that town and try to arrange a concert with Moshe and other soldiers for the benefit of the army.
Two months later, the plan was put into effect: It took a day to travel, and Moshe was supposed to meet me at the train but was not allowed to do so. The police and officers were watching the trains to see that no soldiers escaped camp. I was very disappointed at first not to find him waiting there, but as I left the station I saw him running over the hills and ravines shouting that I should wait for him. We took a drojka, and for the first time kissed each other. My first visit to the rabbi proved to be a failure. He was too old and retired from his office. But his son advised me to see one of Moshe’s officers since it was a military affair. I visited the officer in his small apartment and introduced myself, showed several announcements of our concerts in Odessa and outlined a plan of action for raising money without incurring any expense, by just utilizing the talents under his command. He liked the idea, asked me to come again to a bigger gathering, which I did. A teacher from the high school suggested the use of their graduation hall. A pianist, a dramatic actor who gave a few numbers of declamations, our patriotic arias from the Life for the Czar plus some duets comprised our program. The pupils of the higher grades, teachers, and officers with families made up our first audience. Though Moshe had permission to stay away from his duties for rehearsing and resting before the concert, he could not escape a cold, and with all that we still had an unbelievable success. Next day, whoever met us called us Vanka Stanka by the name of the duet. Our first concert made us popular overnight. The officers who didn’t attend the concert wanted it repeated, but I was on my way home and Moshe had a new idea: to form a men’s chorus of singers from the various churches and cathedrals. It didn’t take long before they were rehearsing in the officers’ hall and spending pleasant evenings in song concluding with tea and bagels. For the dress rehearsal they filled the hall with soldiers and after that tickets would be sold to officers and civilians. Two months later, at Christmas time, they sent me money to come again. Moshe was adored by the boys and they did their utmost to please him. Moshe’s officer became “persona grata” with them and everyone with talent came with a desire to be used (and to receive a permit to spend an evening in town). Other officers became jealous and there was rivalry between them. As a rule, every month a new group of a thousand soldiers, with their officers, would be sent to the front, and everyone wanted to stay and participate in arts activities instead. It was like the choice between life and death. Since Moshe was indispensable to the whole musical enterprise, and his commanding officer was a former singer and supporter, Moshe’s name was not included on the list of the regiments sent to the front. That was our greatest luck, for it enabled him to remain in the rear during the most terrible time for nine months. My third visit to Pavlograd was the most successful musically, but was the last. At that time our professor from Odessa, a brilliant pianist accompanist and conductor, landed in Pavlograd to join the army as a soldier. Together with Moshe, he gave recitals of Rachmaninoff and Moussorgsky before the regiment and civilians. The concerts were so brilliant that they attracted the attention of the Supreme Commander of the Capitol of that state. When the big Easter concert was announced, the commanding generals came down from the capitol, Ekaterinoslav, to attend it. Their intention was to transfer the professor and Moshe to the headquarters at Ekaterinoslav. The concert went beautifully, followed by a banquet in honor of the commanding generals. When the musicians were presented to the generals, they were surprised to learn that Rudinow was a Jew, and instead of transferring the musicians to headquarters, they were ordered to the front immediately.
Moshe served as a telephone line repairman, surviving bitter cold and at least one gas attack. In 1917 he was granted a furlough to return to Odessa to marry, according to the terms of a royal decree aimed at maintaining birth rates during times of war. Moshe and Ruth were married and the furlough was extended when a combination of a cold and the effects of the gas attack led a doctor to recommend further recuperation. By the time the furlough ended, so had the war. Renewing their studies at the Conservatory, Moshe led them also to study Jewish music and to translate Russian songs into Hebrew and Yiddish.
Both passed their exams at the Conservatory in 1918. Ruth was awarded an Artist Diploma and a gold medal, but could not afford the latter which had to be purchased for 50 rubles. Moshe, who also passed all his exams well, did not qualify for a diploma since he had not completed high school (Jews were not admitted to public high schools and had to study privately).