When Max Singer was drafted into the armed services in April 1941, his musical talents were enough to keep him out of harm’s way. But he quickly tired of playing trumpet in his regiment’s band, saying it “had started to get on my nerves.” Singer promptly asked for a transfer, and for the better part of the next 42 months, was in combat on the islands and in the jungles of the Pacific.

During the 1940s, there were few high-ranking Jews in the military. So as a staff sergeant in combat, Singer felt it was incumbent upon him to do his best not only for his country, but for other Jews in the armed services.

“I knew people would judge Jews against anything I did,” he said, “and I didn’t want any degree of cowardice to reflect on Jews.”

During one battle, Singer said, “we went in 183 men, and came out 40. The first two guys we lost were Jewish.” He dismisses his own multiple heroic acts as simply “doing what I had to do.” Singer was awarded a Purple Heart for bravery arising from a mission in which he was shot while crawling under enemy machine-gun fire to assist injured soldiers in his company. He also received a Silver Star for gallantry, a Bronze Star for heroism, and numerous commendations.

Singer recalls spending time in a foxhole with another soldier while under enemy fire. The other soldier told him that although he hadn’t personally known any Jews to that point, he’d had negative feelings about them that only changed for the better once he and Singer served together. Singer is circumspect about his fellow soldier’s statement.

“You have to trust the person in a foxhole with you. But I’m not sure he would’ve said the same thing outside of combat,” Singer said.
Overall, Singer’s experience as a Jew in the military was positive. No matter where his tours took him, when there was a Jewish holiday, services were always held.

“I never met a Jewish chaplain, but there was always someone in the regiment to conduct services,” he said. And any existing anti-Semitism did not keep him from earning the respect of his peers and superiors. In 1945 he was selected from 15,000 men in his division to travel to Manila as a guest of General Douglas MacArthur.

“They sent a bomber to pick me up on [the Island of] Cebu to bring me to Manila. It was my first time on a plane,” he said. Singer shook hands with General MacArthur and had the opportunity to speak in a radio broadcast. “

"They even sent my mother a telegram telling her to listen,” he said proudly.

Just shy of his 90th birthday, Max Singer sits with one of his adult daughters, Glenda, easily recalling dates, names and other specifics from more than a half-century ago. With some coaxing, he displays his medals and a scrapbook filled with newspaper clippings and photos from his time at war.

“I hope you don’t think I’m boasting,” he said. Singer went on to discuss one of his most interesting memories. He was up against a Japanese soldier who was brandishing a sword. Just 10 feet from Singer, the soldier was killed, leaving the engraved enemy sword in Singer’s hands. Unfortunately, the souvenir did not make it home with Singer, who to this day thinks about it.

“I asked for the sword to be sent to me but it just didn’t happen,” he said wistfully.

Max Singer fought for our country on fought on four islands in the Phillipines, and two islands in the Soloman Islands (Guadalcanal and
Bougainvile.). During that time, apart from a leave that began on December 6, 1941 and ended less than 24 hours later when Pearl Harbor was attacked, Singer served a continuous three-and-a-half-years in the Americal Division in the 182nd Infantry.

When he returned from war, Max Singer studied accounting at Northeastern University, and then went on to receive his CPA from Bentley. He worked for more than 30 years in federal and state government, ultimately retiring from his job as the Deputy Commissioner of the Massachusetts Department of Revenue.

In Singer’s scrapbook is a worn letter dated August 31, 1984 from then-Governor Michael Dukakis, who wrote, “[Y]ou came in when there were not only many serious problems lingering from the past, but many opportunities for the future waiting to be seized and exploited. Your ability and ageless energy have carried us a long way toward needed reform and reorganization in the department.”

Max Singer lives in Brooksby Village in Peabody with his wife, Marion Gezuner Singer. They are the parents of two daughters, Glenda and Lillian, and grandparents of four—all of whom live in Peabody and visit “every single day.”

The first time Singer shows any emotion while talking about his life experiences is when he mentions his wife, Marion, who has recently suffered some serious health setbacks. With glistening eyes and a shaky voice he said, “She is the most beautiful person you could ever meet.”