Read Leon Uris Online

Authors: Exodus

Tags: #Fiction, #History, #Literary, #Holocaust

Leon Uris (79 page)

“Good. I am glad.”

“Give us more arms.”

Ari leaped to his feet angrily. Twenty times a day he heard “give us more arms.”

“Sutherland, you pray to Christ; you pray to Confucius, Remez; and I’ll pray to Allah. Maybe rifles will rain down on us like manna from heaven.”

“Do you trust Major Hawks?” Sutherland asked, speaking of the British commander in the area.

“Hawks has always been a friend,” Ari answered.

“All right, then,” Sutherland said, “perhaps you’d better listen to him. He guarantees British protection if you evacuate Safed. Otherwise, he guarantees there will be a massacre after he pulls his troops out.”

Ari blew a long breath. “Did Hawks say when he is leaving?”

“No, he doesn’t know yet.”

“So long as Hawks remains in Safed we are relatively safe. The Arabs won’t try too much with him around. Perhaps the situation will change for the better before he pulls out.”

“Hawks may have his heart in the right place but his own commanders are tying his hands,” Sutherland said.

“The Arabs have already started sniping at us and are attacking our convoys,” Remez said.

“So ...? Are you now going to run at the first shot?”

“Ari.” Remez looked at him levelly. “I was born in Safed. I have lived there all my life. Even to this day I can still hear the chanting from the Arab quarters that we heard in 1929. We didn’t know what it meant until we saw those crazed mobs pouring into our sector. They were our friends—but they were insane. I can see those pitiful Cabalists being dragged into the streets to have their heads cut off. I was only a boy then. We heard the Arabs chanting again in 1936 ... we knew what it meant that time. For three years we ran and cowed in the old Turkish fort every time a loud noise came from the Arab section. We want to stay this time. We aren’t going to run again. Not even the old ones. This time they won’t have it easy, believe me ... but, Ari, there is a limit to what can be asked of us.”

Ari regretted having spoken sharply to Remez. Yes, the decision to remain in Safed took tremendous courage. “Go on back, Remez. Try to keep things calm. You can count on Major Hawks to keep it from getting out of control. In the meantime I’ll give you a priority on everything I get.”

When they were gone Ari sat down and gritted his teeth. What could he do? Perhaps he would be able to send fifty Palmach troops when the British left. It was little better than nothing. What could anyone do? There were two hundred Safeds all over Palestine. Fifty men here, ten men there. If Kawukji, Safwat and Kadar knew how desperate the situation was they would be making frontal assaults all over Palestine. There just wasn’t enough ammunition to stop sustained and determined attacks. Ari feared that the first time the Arabs tried one and learned how meager the Jews’ arms were, it would become a stampede.

David Ben Ami came in from an inspection tour of the northernmost settlements.


Shalom
, Ari,” David said. “I met Remez and Sutherland on the road. Remez looks a little green around the gills.”

“He has plenty of reason. Well, did you find anything interesting?”

“The Arabs have started sniping at Kfar Giladi and Metulla. Kfar Szold fears the Syrian villagers may try something. Everyone is dug in, all defenses built around the children’s houses. They all want arms.”

“Arms ... what else is new? Where is the sniping coming from?”

“Aata.”

“Good old Aata,” Ari said. “When the British leave it’s going to be my first objective. When I was a boy they tried beating me up when I went to get the grain milled. They’ve been looking for a fight ever since. It is my guess that half of Kawukji’s men are crossing over through Aata.”

“Or Abu Yesha,” David said.

Ari looked up angrily. David knew it was a sore point.

“I have reliable friends in Abu Yesha,” Ari said.

“Then they must have told you the irregulars are infiltrating through there.”

Ari did not answer.

“Ari, many times you have told me that my weakness is allowing sentiment to cloud my judgment. I know how close you are to those people, but you’ve got to go up there and make the muktar understand.”

Ari got up and walked away. “I’ll have to talk to Taha.”

David picked up the dispatches from Ari’s desk, scanned them, and dropped them. He paced beside Ari, then stood looking out of the window in the direction of Jerusalem. A wave of moroseness washed over him.

Ari slapped him on the shoulder. “It will work out.”

David shook his head slowly. “Things are getting desperate in Jerusalem,” he said in a doleful monotone. “The convoys are having more and more trouble getting through. If this keeps up they will be starving in another few weeks.”

Ari knew how the siege of his beloved city was affecting David. “You want to go to Jerusalem, don’t you?”

“Yes,” David said, “but I don’t want to let you down.”

“If you must, of course I’ll relieve you.”

“Thanks, Ari. Will you be able to manage?”

“Sure ... as soon as this damned leg stops acting up. See here, David ... I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’ll stay until you are fit.”

“Thanks. By the way, how long since you’ve seen Jordana?”

“Weeks.”

“Why don’t you go up to Gan Dafna tomorrow and look over the situation? Stay up there a few days and take a real good look.”

David smiled. “You have such a nice way of persuasion.”

There was a knock on the door of Kitty’s office.

“Come in,” she said.

Jordana Ben Canaan entered. “I would like a word with you if you are not too busy, Mrs. Fremont.”

“Very well.”

“David Ben Ami is going to come up and inspect the defenses this morning. We would like to have a staff meeting afterwards.”

“I’ll be there,” Kitty said.

“Mrs. Fremont. I want to speak to you before the meeting. As you know, I am the commander here and in the future you and I will have to work in close co-operation. I wish to express the opinion that I have complete confidence in you. In fact, I consider it fortunate for Gan Dafna that you are here.”

Kitty looked at Jordana curiously.

“I believe,” Jordana continued, “that it would be good for the morale of the entire village if we set our personal feelings aside.”

“I believe you are right.”

“Good. I am glad we have an understanding.”

“Jordana ... just what is our situation here?”

“We are not in too much immediate danger. Of course, we will all feel better about things when Fort Esther is turned over to the Haganah.”

“Suppose something goes wrong and the Arabs get Fort Esther? And ... suppose the road through Abu Yesha is closed.”

“Then the prospects become very unpleasant.”

Kitty arose and paced the room slowly. “Please understand that I don’t want to interfere in military matters, but looking at it realistically—we may fall under siege.”

“There is that possibility,” Jordana said.

“We have many babies here. Can’t we talk over plans to evacuate them and some of the younger children?”

“Where shall we evacuate them to?”

“I don’t know. A safer
kibbutz
or
moshav
.”

“I don’t know either, Mrs. Fremont. A ‘safer
kibbutz
’ is merely a term of relativity. Palestine is less than fifty miles wide. We have no safe
kibbutz
. New settlements are falling under siege every day.”

“Then perhaps we can get them to the cities.”

“Jerusalem is almost cut off. The fighting in Haifa and between Tel Aviv and Jaffa is the most severe in Palestine.”

“Then ... there is no place?” Jordana did not answer. She did not have to.

Chapter Three

C
HRISTMAS EVE, 1947

The ground was sticky with mud and the air was crisp and the first snow of the winter floated down on Gan Dafna. Kitty walked quickly over the green toward the lane of cottages. Her breath formed little clouds.


Shalom, Giveret
Kitty,” Dr. Lieberman called.


Shalom
, Doctor.”

She raced up the steps and into the cottage, where it was warm and Karen had a steaming cup of tea waiting.

“Brrr,” Kitty said, “it’s freezing outside.”

The room was cheerful. Karen had decorated it with pine cones, ribbons, and imagination. She had even got permission to cut down one of the precious little trees, which she had filled with tufts of raw cotton and paper cutouts.

Kitty sat down on the bed, kicked off her shoes, and put on a pair of fur-lined slippers. The tea tasted wonderful.

Karen stood by the picture window and watched the snow fall. “I think that the first snow falling is the most beautiful thing in the world,” Karen said.

“You won’t think it’s so beautiful if the fuel ration gets any worse.”

“I’ve been thinking about Copenhagen and the Hansens all day. Christmas in Denmark is a wonderful thing. Did you see the package they sent me?”

Kitty walked up to the girl, put her arm around her shoulders, and bussed her cheek. “Christmas makes people nostalgic.”

“Are you terribly lonesome, Kitty?”

“Since Tom and Sandra died Christmas has been something I wanted to forget—until now.”

“I hope you are happy, Kitty.”

“I am ... in a different way. I have learned that it is impossible to be a Christian without being a Jew in spirit. Karen, I’ve done things all my life to justify something missing in myself. I feel, for the first time, that I am able to give without reservation or hope of compensation.”

“Do you know something? I can’t ever tell the others because they wouldn’t understand, but I feel very close to Jesus here,” Karen said.

“So do I, dear.”

Karen looked at her watch and sighed. “I must eat early. I have guard duty tonight.”

“Bundle up. It’s very cold outside. I’ll work on some reports and wait up for you.”

Karen changed into bulky, warm clothing. Kitty knotted the girl’s hair and held it in place while she put on the brown stocking-like Palmach cap so that it covered her ears.

Suddenly there came a sound of voices singing from outside.

“What on earth is that?” Kitty asked.

“It is for you,” Karen smiled. “They have been practicing in secret for two weeks.”

Kitty walked to the window. Fifty of her children stood outside the cottage holding candles in their hands, singing a Christmas carol.

Kitty put on her coat and walked out on the porch with Karen. Behind the children she could see the lights of the valley settlements over two thousand feet below. One by one the cottage doors opened with curious onlookers. She did not understand the words but the melody was very old.

“Merry Christmas, Kitty,” Karen said.

Tears fell down Kitty’s cheek. “I never thought I would live to hear ‘Silent Night’ sung in Hebrew. This is the most beautiful Christmas present I have ever had.”

Karen was assigned to a post in the outer trenches beyond Gan Dafna’s gates. She walked out of the village and down the road to a point where the earthworks commanded a view of the valley floor.

“Halt!”

She stopped.

“Who is there?”

“Karen Clement.”

“What is the pass word?”


Chag sameach
.”

Karen relieved the guard, jumped down in the trench, put a clip of bullets into the chamber of the rifle, closed the bolt, and put on her mittens.

It was nice standing guard, Karen thought. She looked through the tangle of barbed wire toward Abu Yesha. It was nice being alone out here with nothing to do but think for four hours and look down on the Huleh Valley. Karen could hear the faint voices of the children floating over the quiet winter air from Kitty’s cottage. It was a most wonderful, wonderful Christmas.

Soon the voices were still and it was very silent all about. The snowfall thickened, building a white carpet over the mountainside.

Karen heard movement in the trees behind her. She turned quietly and squinted in the darkness. She sensed something alive moving about. She froze and watched. Yes! Something was there in the trees! A shadow ... perhaps it is a hungry jackal, she thought.

Karen flicked the safety catch off her rifle, put it to her shoulder, and sighted it. The shadow moved closer.

“Halt!” her voice snapped out.

The figure stopped.

“What is the password?”

“Karen!” a voice called out.

“Dov!”

She climbed from the trench and ran through the snow toward him and he ran toward her and they fell into each other’s arms.

“Dov! Dov! I can’t believe it is you!”

They jumped down into the trench together and she strained in the darkness to make out his face.

“Dov ... I don’t know what to say ...”

“I got here an hour ago,” he said. “I waited outside your cottage until you left for guard duty. Then I followed you here.”

Karen looked around, startled. “It isn’t safe! You’ll have to hide from the British!”

“It’s all right now, Karen, it’s all right. The British can’t hurt me any more.”

Her fingers trembled as she felt him in the darkness. “Dov, you’re cold. You haven’t even a sweater on. You must be freezing.”

“No ... no ... I’m fine.”

The snow fell into the trench and suddenly the moon appeared and they could see each other.

“I’ve been hiding at the caves outside Mishmar.”

“I know.”

“I ... I thought you were in America.”

“We couldn’t go.”

“I guess you wonder what I’m doing here. Karen ... I ... I want to come back to Gan Dafna but I took some watches and rings when I left and I guess they think I’m a thief.”

“Oh no, Dov. As long as you are safe and alive that is all that matters.”

“You see ... I’ll pay everyone back.”

“It doesn’t matter. No one is angry with you.”

Dov sat in the trench and lowered his head. “All the time I was in the Acre prison and all the time I was in the caves I thought to myself. I thought: Dov, no one is mad at you. It’s just Dov that’s mad ... mad at himself. When I saw you in Acre I said then ... I said I didn’t want to die any more. I didn’t want to die and I didn’t want to kill anyone.”

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