At first she heard a faint rumbling in the distance, but soon the thunderous pounding of hooves meant there was no room for error.

“They won’t come.”

“They will come, and we need to be prepared.”

“They won’t come, and stop being so pessimistic and filling our hearts with fear and dread.”

This was the refrain, the steady argument that took place nonstop for an entire year, in the home of a Jewish family in the small Russian village of Zemtov. During that time, the Russian Czar had added a further stricture to the Cantonist Decree, which meant that Jewish children, some as young as eight years old, were taken from their homes and inducted in training camps that would prepare them at age 18 for the notorious 25-year-long service in the Russian army. In addition, the Russian monarchy decreed that the firstborn son of every family must be drafted into the Czar’s army as well. This edict, of course, not only threatened Jewish youths with physical ruination, but with spiritual destruction. Government authorities refused to accept monetary payments in place of the bodies of young Jewish men, and as a result, every family began devising their own strategies to save their oldest sons from the dreaded fate.

The officials in St. Petersburg knew well that the Jews wouldn’t give up their firstborn sons, that they would never willingly surrender them to the army for years of service, that they would fight to the finish. As a result, the draft board opened an exclusive division for the forced induction of Jewish youths. A special battalion, more like a posse, made their way from town to town, hunting down Jewish firstborns of draft age. They would appear suddenly, surrounding a Jewish home to prevent anyone from entering or leaving. If a family resisted the soldiers’ demands, the consequences could be devastating. The young men would be hauled off to an unknown fate — some returning years later after having been virtually transformed into gentiles. There were a few who remained strong enough and tenacious enough to cling to Yiddishkeit; and then there were those who never returned, whose ultimate fates were never revealed.

In the village of Zemtov lived a single Jewish family with two sons: Yankel, the firstborn son, and his brother, Elimelech, who was two years younger. Their parents — honest, upright, hardworking Jews — made an honorable living in the village, although they did consider leaving from time to time for the spiritual welfare of their children. But when the decree of military conscription for every firstborn son spread through the country, they were grateful that they’d never left their sleepy village. Why would the draft brigade bother coming to Zemtov? The village wasn’t even on the map and had no official government registry.

Still, when Yankel turned 18, his mother became unnerved. What if the soldiers discovered their village after all and came to abduct her precious son? While the boy’s father negated her fears, her inner voice told her that Yankel was in danger.

And one afternoon, they were there. At first she heard a faint rumbling in the distance, but soon the thunderous pounding of hooves meant there was no room for error.