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Pesach on the Autobahn


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It was nearly midnight when Louis Roth's seder ended and we packed ourselves into my old Bug. My wife, Kyongcha, rode shotgun; Steve, my 12-year-old brother, shared the cramped back seat with a case of matzo and boxes of kosher-for-Passover canned goods from the chaplain's office. It was enough to supply each of the seven Jews in my U.S. Army signal battalion.

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