Leon Uris (31 page)

“I wanted to speak to you, Alistair, before I took over from Sutherland. Of course I received your letter and you are free to speak.”

“Well, sir,” Alistair said, “I would say that the strain has got Sutherland down. Something has happened to the man. Caldwell tells me he has one nightmare after another. He walks all night long, till dawn, and he spends most of his days reading the Bible.”

“Damned shame,” Tevor-Browne said. “Bruce has been a corking good soldier. I trust what is said will never leave this car. We must protect the man.”

“Of course, sir,” Alistair said.

KYRENIA, CYPRUS (AP)

EXCLUSIVE

General Sir Clarence Trevor-Browne of desert fame landed anonymously at Nicosia airdrome last night. Sir Clarence was dressed in civilian clothes and his arrival was marked by secrecy. Tevor-Browne’s appearance on the scene confirms Whitehall’s concern over the
Exodus
. It could indicate a change in policy if not a change in command.

Mark boarded the
Exodus
and asked that Karen be sent to the wheelhouse. He was worried as he pushed his way over the crowded deck. The children were looking gaunt and they smelled bad from the lack of water to wash with.

Ari was in the wheelhouse as placid as ever. Mark gave him cigarettes and a few bottles of brandy. “How’s it going out there?” Ari asked.

“Doesn’t look like any change in policy with Tevor-Browne in. The story is still tops all over. Bigger than I expected. Look, Ari, this thing has worked perfectly for you and me both. You’ve done what you started out to do, given the British a black eye. The word I got is that the British are not going to back down.”

“What’s the point?”

“The point is you can top this whole thing off by making a humanity move and taking the ship to dock. We’ll make a big story when the British march them back to Caraolos. It will tear the people’s hearts out.”

“Did Kitty send you in with this?”

“Aw, cut it out, will you. Just look down there at those kids. They’re starting to come apart.”

“They knew what they were in for.”

“There’s another thing, Ari. I’m afraid we’ve hit the mark with this story. We’re on top now, but tomorrow Frank Sinatra may unload a left hook on some columnist in a night club and we’re off page one.”

Karen entered the wheelhouse. “Hello, Mr. Parker,” she said softly.

“Hello, honey. Here’s a letter from Kitty and a package.”

She took the letter and gave Mark one for Kitty. She refused the package as she had refused all the other packages.

“Christ, I haven’t got the heart to tell Kitty she won’t take the packages for herself. That girl is sick. Did you see the circles under her eyes? You’re going to have real trouble on this ship in another few days.”

“We were speaking of maintaining public interest. Get one thing straight, Parker. We don’t go back to Caraolos. There are a quarter of a million Jews in Europe waiting for an answer and we are the only ones who can answer them. Starting tomorrow we will declare a hunger strike. Anyone who passes out will be placed on deck for the British to look at.”

“You ghoul ... you stinking ghoul,” Mark snarled.

“Call me what you want, Parker. Do you think I like starving a bunch of orphans? Give me something else to fight with. Give me something to shoot at those tanks and those destroyers! All we’ve got is our guts and what we believe in. We’ve had the hell knocked out of us for two thousand years. This is one fight we’re going to win.”

HUNGER STRIKE

CALLED ON EXODUS

Children vow starvation rather than return to Caraolos.

After allowing the story to build up over a two-week period, Ari Ben Canaan fooled everyone by launching an offensive. It was no game of “wait and see” now; the children were forcing a decision.

A huge sign was tied to the sides of the
Exodus
with lettering in English, French, and Hebrew. The sign read:

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#1

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#15

Two boys and a girl, aged ten, twelve, and fifteen, were brought on the forward deck of the
Exodus
and laid out, unconscious.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#20

Ten children were stretched out on the forward deck.

“For Christ’s sake, Kitty, stop pacing and sit down!”

“It’s over twenty hours now. How much longer is he going to let this go on? I just haven’t had the courage to go to the quay and look. Is Karen one of those children unconscious on deck?”

“I told you ten times she wasn’t.”

“They aren’t strong children to begin with and they’ve been cooped up on that ship for two weeks. They have no stamina left.” Kitty pulled nervously at a cigarette and tugged at her hair. “That man is a beast. An inhuman beast.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Mark said. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I wonder if we really understand what is driving those people so hard. Have you ever seen Palestine? It’s worthless desert in the south end and eroded in the middle and swamp up north. It’s stinking, it’s sun-baked, and it’s in the middle of a sea of fifty million sworn enemies. Yet they break their necks to get there. They call it the Land of Milk and Honey ... they sing about water sprinklers and irrigation ditches. Two weeks ago I told Ari Ben Canaan that the Jews don’t have a patent on suffering but I’m beginning to wonder. I swear I wonder. I wonder how something can hurt so badly that can drive them so hard.”

“Don’t defend him, Mark, and don’t defend those people.”

“Try to remember one thing. Ben Canaan couldn’t do this without the support of those kids. They’re behind him one hundred per cent.”

“That’s what hurts,” Kitty said, “this loyalty. This fantastic loyalty they have for each other.”

The phone rang. Mark answered, listened, and hung up.

“What is it? I said what is it, Mark!”

“They’ve brought some more kids up on the deck unconscious. A half dozen of them.”

“Is ... is ... Karen ...?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to find out.”

“Mark.”

“What?”

“I want to go on the
Exodus
.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I can’t take it any more,” she said.

“If you do this you’re finished.”

“No, Mark ... it’s different. If I knew she were alive and well I could bear it. I swear I could. I made myself know that. But I can’t just sit idly and know she’s dying. I can’t do that.”

“Even if I can get Ben Canaan to let you on the
Exodus
the British won’t let you.”

“You must,” she said fiercely, “you must.”

She stood with her back to the door and blocked his exit. Her face determined. Mark lowered his eyes. “I’ll do what I can,” he said.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#35

Angry crowds in Paris and Rome demonstrated before the British embassies. Fierce oratory and placards demanded the release of the
Exodus
. Police clubs and tear gas were used in Paris to disperse the mob. In Copenhagen and in Stockholm and in Brussels and in The Hague there were other demonstrations. These were more orderly.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#38

A spontaneous general strike swept over the island of Cyprus in protest against the British. Transportation stopped, businesses shut down, the ports closed, theaters and restaurants locked their doors. Famagusta, Nicosia, Larnaca, and Limassol looked like morgues.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#40

Ari Ben Canaan stared at his lieutenants. He looked into the somber faces of Joab, David, Zev, and Hank Schlosberg.

Zev, the Galilee farmer, spoke up first. “I am a soldier. I cannot stand by and watch children starve to death.”

“In Palestine,” Ari snapped, “youngsters this same age are already fighters in Gadna.”

“It is one thing to fight and it is another to starve to death.”

“This is only another way of fighting,” Ari said.

Joab Yarkoni had worked with Ari for many years and had served with him in World War II. “I have never gone against you, Ari. The minute one of these children dies this whole thing is liable to boomerang on us.”

Ari looked over to Hank Schlosberg, the American captain. Hank shrugged. “You’re the boss, Ari, but the crew is getting jittery. They didn’t bargain for this.”

“In other words,” Ari said, “you want to surrender.”

Their silence confirmed it.

“David, what about you? I haven’t heard from you.”

David, a scholar, was steeped in the Torah and in the holy books. He had a closeness to God that none of the rest of them had and they respected it.

“Six million Jews died in gas chambers not knowing why they died,” he said. “If three hundred of us on the
Exodus
die we will certainly know why. The world will know too. When we were a nation two thousand years ago and when we rebelled against Roman and Greek rule we Jews established the tradition of fighting to the last man. We did this at Arbela and Jerusalem. We did this at Beitar and Herodium and Machaerus. At Masada we held out against the Romans for four years and when they entered the fort they found us all dead. No people, anywhere, have fought for their freedom as have our people. We drove the Romans and the Greeks from our land until we were dispersed to the four corners of the world. We have not had much opportunity to fight as a nation for two thousand years. When we had that opportunity at the Warsaw ghetto we did honor to our tradition. I say if we leave this boat and willingly return to barbed-wire prisons then we will have broken faith with God.”

“Are there any further questions?” Ari said.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#42

In the United States, South Africa, and England mass prayer meetings were being held in synagogues, and in many churches there were prayers for the safety of the children on the
Exodus
.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#45

The Jews in Argentina began to fast in sympathy with the children aboard the
Exodus
.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#47

It was getting dark as Kitty boarded the
Exodus.
The stench was overpowering. All over the deck, in the lifeboats, on the superstructure she saw the crush of humanity. Everyone was lying down and absolutely motionless to conserve energy.

“I want to see those children who have passed out,” she said.

David led her to the bow of the ship where there were three rows of unconscious children, sixty in number. David knelt and held his lantern close to the bodies as Kitty moved from one to the other, feeling their pulses and looking into the pupils of their eyes. Half a dozen times she thought she would faint as her heart pounded and she rolled over a child who looked like Karen.

David led her around the packed deck, stepping over the prostrate bodies. The children stared listlessly at her with dazed eyes. Their hair was matted and dirt caked their faces.

David led her down the steep ladder onto the hold. She nearly vomited as the stink enveloped her. In the half light she saw the ghastly sight of the children packed in shelves one atop the other.

On the deck of the hold they lay piled against each other. She found Karen in a corner, enmeshed in a tangle of arms and legs. Dov was asleep next to her. They lay on a pile of rags and the deck was slimy beneath them.

“Karen,” she whispered. “Karen, it’s me, Kitty.”

Karen’s eyes fluttered open. There were huge black circles beneath them and her lips were caked dry. She was too weak to sit up.

“Kitty?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

Karen held her arms open and Kitty held her tightly for many moments. “Don’t leave, Kitty. I’m so frightened.”

“I’ll be near,” Kitty whispered, releasing the girl.

She went to the hospital and examined the limited supply of drugs and sighed despondently. “There is very little that can be done,” she said to David. “I’ll try to make them as comfortable as possible. Can you and Joab work with me?”

“Of course.”

“Some of those unconscious are in serious condition. We’ll have to try to sponge them to get their fevers down. It is chilly up on deck. We’ll keep them covered. Then I want everyone who is capable of working to get this ship clean.”

Kitty labored feverishly for hours to ward off death. It was like trying to fill an ocean with a thimble. As soon as one child was brought under control three more became seriously ill. She hadn’t the drugs, water, or other facilities to do very much. Food, the one weapon, could not be used.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#81

Seventy children in coma lay on the deck of the
Exodus
.

On the quay of Kyrenia harbor there were angry grumbles of insubordination from the British ranks. Many of the soldiers could stand it no longer and asked to be removed, even at the risk of courtmartial. The eyes of Cyprus fastened on Kyrenia.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#82

Karen Hansen Clement was carried to the bow of the ship, unconscious.

Hunger Strike/ Hour
#83

Kitty walked into the wheelhouse and slumped exhausted into a chair. She had worked for thirty-five straight hours and her mind was muddled and dazed. Ari poured her a stiff brandy.

“Go on and drink,” he said. “You aren’t on strike.”

She swallowed it down, and a second drink brought her to her senses. She stared at Ari Ben Canaan long and hard. He was a powerful man. He showed almost no effects of the siege. She looked into his cold eyes and wondered what thoughts, what plots, what tricks were running through his brain. She wondered if he was frightened or even knew fear. She wondered if he was sad or shaken.

“I was expecting you to come up here to see me much sooner,” he said.

“I won’t beg you, Ari Ben Canaan. Ben Canaan and God ... in that order ... isn’t that right? Well, there are a dozen children on the verge of death. I am merely reporting to you like a good Palmachnik. They’re going to die, Mr. Ben Canaan. How do you rule?”

“I’ve been insulted before, Kitty. It doesn’t bother me. Is this humanity of yours so great that it cries out for all these children or does it appeal for the life of one child?”