Army Cantor. Max Fuchs came to the United States in 1934 at the age of 12 with his family, when they moved from Poland to New York’s Lower East Side. In New York, he attended a yeshiva and studied Jewish cantorial music. Many of his aunts, uncles and cousins who remained in Poland were killed after the German invasion in 1939. At 17, he left the yeshiva because he wanted to fight the Nazis. He was an Army rifleman in the Normandy Invasion on D-Day, landing on Omaha Beach, where he was hit by shrapnel, which was never removed from his chest. Four months later, he fought with his division in the battle for Aachen, which was the first German city to fall to the Allies in World War II. In October 1944, a Sabbath service was planned for Jewish soldiers, and although the Jewish National Committee had found a rabbi to serve as chaplain, no cantor was available. When the soldiers were asked for a volunteer, 22-year-old Fuchs spoke up. He later said, “I was just as much scared as anyone else, but since I was the only one who could do it, I tried my best.” On Oct. 29, 1944, Private Fuchs sang traditional Sabbath hymns at an emotional open-air service on the Aachen battlefield, near the city's destroyed synagogue, before some 50 fellow Jewish soldiers. As gunfire sounded nearby, he sang “Ein Keloheinu” and “Yigdal,” specifically chosen because they were short. His performance on that 1944 broadcast, heard throughout the United States and later in Germany, brought a special poignancy to the 10-minute open-air service, partly because of his beautiful voice, and partly because a few seconds before he began the “Yigdal” hymn, and for the time it took to finish it, the sound of artillery shells exploding nearby could be heard clearly in the background. He remembered singing and looking over the assembled soldiers in that open field and thinking there was not a single one of them at that service who had not lost family to the Nazis. The U.S. military recorded the service and released a transcript to promote a message of interfaith tolerance. NBC radio broadcast it twice across America and again in Germany, presented by war correspondent James Cassidy, who introduced a “program of historic moment, the first direct broadcast of a Jewish religious service from German soil since Adolf Hitler and his Nazis began the destruction not only of the Jewish religion but of all religions, more than a decade ago.” Charlotte Bonelli, the chief archivist of the Jewish National Committee, did not know anything about the service or recording. She was researching the history of the organization’s radio division when she found a reference to it in 2004 and began to try to find it. Neither the committee nor NBC had the recording. Eventually she found it at the Library of Congress and commissioned a short documentary about it, which she presented at the group’s annual meeting in 2005. As an afterthought, she posted it on YouTube. David Harris, the American Jewish Committee’s executive director, said its webmaster began noticing “some traffic” beginning in early 2006. “There were 1,000 hits, then 3,000, then it was in a lull for a while and all of a sudden it was hundreds of thousands.” Fuchs had hung a photograph in the family’s living room showing a G.I. singing at a service, a prayer shawl draped on his uniform, while a radio reporter held a microphone in front of him. Mr. Fuchs’s daughter told The New York Times in 2009 that her father would say little about the picture, other than acknowledging that it was him in the photo and saying that the service had been broadcast. When she read a 2000 newspaper interview with James Cassidy, the former combat correspondent for NBC, telling of a Jewish service he had covered, she asked her father if this was the image in their home. He said it was. Over the years, the recording has been seen and heard by tens of thousands. In April 2018, Mr. Fuchs was interviewed for the PBS documentary “GI Jews: Jewish Americans in World War II,” which was presented in honor of Holocaust Remembrance Day.