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Authors: Cynthia Freeman

BOOK: No Time for Tears
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On the road to Damascus, Dovid closely observed the fortifications, the amounts of food supply for the soldiers and civilians, the size of the army and its disposition. Through contacts in the cities he was given the amount of war materiel coming into the country, how many army units were being deployed and the contact at Gilboa. He found out the approximate number of pilots as well as when they would make their flights.

When he arrived in Damascus he went to the hotel and bathed and shaved away two days’ weariness. After he had changed into the fresh aba and adjusted the white kaffiyeh on his head he looked at himself in the mirror and had to laugh. His thoughts went back to a little
shtetl
, to a young man sitting at a cobbler’s bench … now, dressed like Lawrence of Arabia, going to see one of the most influential officials in the Ottoman Empire. A long way since that morning they’d walked from the little village to the port of Odessa, leading a goat and
shlepping
all kinds of bundles. …

As Dovid sat in Jamal Pasha’s office waiting for him, his eyes wandered to some papers on the desk. The temptation was near-overwhelming. He realized the consequences of what would happen should Jamal Pasha walk in … but did he dare risk it? He’d never have a moment like this … did he dare
not
risk it? He got up and bent over the desk. God, this looked like a battle plan … amounts of food, sizes of army units, numbers of German fliers, plans for a second attack on Suez … too much to commit to memory. His heart pounded as he took out the black notebook he used to make his progress reports that he presented to Jamal Pasha. He wrote as fast as he could. He had finished, just put the notebook back into his pocket when the door opened and Pasha entered. His head pounded like it would split into pieces. Pasha was no fool, to underestimate him would be a great mistake. He may have even left the plans as a test… nothing for it but to act innocent…

Pasha looked at Dovid, then casually to the plans on his desk. It was too ridiculous … he’d had this terrible need to relieve himself ever since that idiot wife had demanded he show her attention right there on his chaise in the office … that call of nature was responsible for his lack of prudence in leaving Landau alone with the plans … How loyal was Landau? Until now he had had no reason not to trust the man. He had had access to many things and so far there had been no known leaks to the British … Still, Landau
was
a Jew … He searched Dovid’s face carefully for any sign of guilt, even unease. The face revealed nothing, but perhaps his voice would betray him … “Well, Landau”—he smiled—“what do you think of the plan?” A frontal move would, he decided, be most likely to unnerve a guilty mind.

“I’m an agronomist, not a military strategist, I really can’t give an opinion,” Dovid said with—he hoped—disarming conviction.

“You underestimate yourself.”

Dovid smiled. “Thank you, but I do not underestimate
our
government. Look at the British fiasco in Gallipoli. They boasted that a few days and the whole battle would be over. The British lion left with his tail between his legs. And he’s not doing so well in Europe. The Germans have him on the run. We will win, I’ve no doubt no doubt of it.”

Jamal Pasha was pleased. “Well, for a scientist, you’re an astute military analyst, Landau.”

“Not so astute, I just have great confidence in our strength.”

“That’s reassuring, especially since so many of your people have made the bad mistake of going over to the Allies. I didn’t approve, of course, but I understand the mule corps was of help to the British … pity for them that they were so wasted.”

The bastard was playing with him.
He
was the one who had deported them. His shrapnel had penetrated Moishe’s leg … “You’re right, I’m sorry to say not all of us have the same loyalties.”

The pasha twirled the pencil in his hand and looked again at Dovid. If the Jew was lying he was damned convincing. Jamal Pasha almost believed him. If he were to continue using his valuable services, did he have an alternative? It seemed a good, calculated risk … “Well, now, how is production from the kibbutzim?”

Dovid took out the black book and read off the amounts of wheat, barley, and fodder as well as all the other essentials. When he’d finished his mouth was very dry. Lying, even to this creature, was not the easiest thing in the world. “We’ve had to push very hard to deliver this amount of production. I hope and believe that we can even increase it.”

“Very commendable,” Jamal Pasha said, lighting a Turkish cigarette and handing one to Dovid. “Knowing how the Jews steal and hide what they grow from the government, I must compliment you that they apparently withhold so little from you.” Dovid would have gladly slit his throat … the Jews were starving, the little they kept was scarcely enough to keep body and soul together. But he acknowledged the compliment with a smile….

Jamal Pasha watched through the window as Dovid went off. You could tell a great deal from the stride of a man, the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, and he again reassured himself that there was nothing in Landau’s demeanor that indicated the plans on his desk were even a curiosity … Still, never mind the excuse, he had been foolhardy to leave them out in the open, except how did he know Landau would come in while he was emptying his bladder? Well, he would be sure that he was not again caught with his pants down. He almost smiled when he thought it

Jamal Pasha’s misgivings were more than matched by Dovid’s. When he felt safe, he stopped near a clump of eucalyptus trees and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. Fool, he’d been a fool. He could have destroyed the whole operation, and been hanged for much less…

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I
N THE LABORATORY AT
Athlit, a special tension was in the air as the men sat around the table in the dimly lit room.

Dovid’s eyes, and thoughts, lingered on Absalom, whose good and generous words now came back to him … “I don’t give a damn whose plans we take, nobody needs a medal to destroy the Turks. Dovid and I are brothers. We have faced death together. If the majority rules that Dovid’s plan is better than mine, so be it All I ask is that when the time comes I have the pleasure of pulling the rope that hangs Jamal Pasha…”

Aaron’s words broke into Dovid’s thoughts. “As you all know, in the beginning I was opposed to this idea. However, now I am involved and wish to give credit where it is due. The plan we accepted was Dovid’s, he has already begun to carry it out, at great personal risk … I think this meeting should be turned over to him.”

Dovid was surprised, tried to collect his thoughts. “I would only like to remind you that under certain circumstances the most courageous men have been broken. No man can be sure of his abilities to resist until he has undergone the brutal interrogation that the Turks are capable of. Their barbarism is not understood until experienced. In the event any of you are caught you will be alone. Expect no help. As I call your names, you will take the oath that your lips will be sealed and no man will inform on another in order to save himself. Is that agreed?”

“It is,” the men responded in unison.

Dovid looked around the table at the faces of these brave men, knowing that what he asked of them was too much, but it had to be asked. They were only human, and no man knew what his strengths were until that moment when the pain became impossible to bear. Life was a precious gift, which every normal man clung to. Still … the oath might be remembered if the time came…

With the Bible in his hand he called out, “Chaim Lazarus … with one hand on your heart and the other on the Bible, do you take the oath of silence?”

“I do.”

“Lieb Schacham, do you take the oath?”

“I do.”

Samuel Guri, Zalman Kishon, Nachman Shamir, Eliave Yitzchak, Alex Aaronson, Absalom Feinberg and Aaron Aaronson took the oath as well. From the finger of each a drop of blood was drawn. “Now we are brothers … From the Bible I will read these words. ‘
Netzah Yisrael Lo Ieshaker
… Israel’s eternity shall not lie.’ We are now members of the NILI.”

A small glass of wine was handed to each man. “We drink to the salvation of our people, and their peaceful survival. Let us hope that when future generations hear the word NILI they will know that the cause we fought was theirs.”


Shalom
,” they said, saluting Dovid.

With his glass held high, Dovid saluted back, “
Shalom
.”

The men were given their instructions. Their mission would begin in the morning.

While secretly passing the Samech station, properly disguised, and thoroughly terrified, Chaim Lazarus took note of the war matériel arriving….

At Fuleh station, Lieb Schacham calculated the army units, and the number of officers being dispatched….

In Gilboa, Samuel Guri, outfitted in a uniform stolen by a Teutonic warrior more interested in gold than the Fatherland, drank with the German fliers. Once the wine and beer loosened their tongues, the information on planned air strikes began to flow….

Aaron, the distinguished scientist, went north to gather information on the Turkish army. Everything was written in code and cipher in a small black notebook. No language was discernible, only numbers in groups of five. The Turks would break their brains trying to break the code, even if they should capture the notebook.

Absalom journeyed through Tyre and Acre. In Rosh-pina he discovered a military center and a local school that now served as a supply depot for ammunition. The Turks had apparently, by the equipment on hand, decided to build a new road as a military highway. He would suggest that the British dispatch planes with bombs to the site during the inauguration of the road….

After seeing Jamal Pasha, Dovid went to Haifa, then proceeded to Tiberius and Beirut. He found that the Turks were planning to attack the Suez Canal again. In fact, the German commander, Kers Von Kerstein, had left the Suez Canal in mid-April. It seemed this second attack on the Suez was so close at hand that squadrons of German fliers were stationed in Dagania. Gaza had been reinforced with heavy artillery….

With their staggering amount of information, the men met once again at Athlit. “To quote Herzl,” Dovid said, “‘If you will it, it need not remain but a dream.’ Now we have something to go to the British with.”

“All right, but how do we create a link between ourselves and British headquarters in Egypt?” Aaron’s question was in everyone’s mind.

“You have to make contact, Aaron. With your credibility they would listen to you,” Dovid said.

“I told you earlier, if I leave here it would arouse suspicion. No, the most likely one for this mission, I suggest, is Absalom.”

“Why me? As has been pointed out, I’m not exactly a diplomat.”

“True … but you will make
special
efforts … Besides, and more important, when you feel like it, you can affect the manners of a gentleman and that will impress the British. Also, your English is impeccable.
That
is why.”

“And what about the
how?
Do I swim or take a rowboat?”

“Neither … you will be smuggled aboard an American warship whose mission of mercy is to evacuate all neutral citizens … Details later …” which meant keep them as secret as possible, even among this handpicked group….

On the way back to Zichron, Aaron suggested to Dovid that he take advantage of the hiatus in his activities to spend some time with Chavala.

“I will, Aaron … I miss her very much.”

“I can imagine. She is a very unique woman, Dovid. Somehow she reminds me of Sarah, the same combination of beauty and strength. She’s been receiving the food?”

“Yes, thank God.”

“Thank God, indeed. Who knows when the Arabs will begin their plunder … by the way, I have a bag of almonds and a box of dried fruits I’d like you to give to my little Reuven. You wait, Dovid, he’s a born agronomist.”

“I know, and he thinks I’m a scientist.”

“Who says he’s wrong?”

“The diplomas I don’t have.”

“Diplomas don’t always make a man a scientist. Some men are born with an original mind, and are committed to what they believe in, no matter what. You, my friend, are one of them…”

When Dovid came home to the Jerusalem apartment Chavala couldn’t believe it. For a moment she couldn’t even catch her breath to welcome him. Then she ran to his out-stretched arms, and they held each other as though they would never let go.

“Oh God, Dovid … it’s you, thank you for coming …” She backed off, patted her hair and smoothed her dress. “I’m embarrassed, the way I look. This is no way to greet my husband … the front of my dress is wet from washing … oh
God
, I’m so excited to see you I forgot to ask if you’ve eaten … come, sit down … no, go in and see Reuven while I change.” Then taking Dovid’s face in her hands she said, “I’m acting like a moonstruck girl … oh, darling, how can I tell you what I feel? Words only get in the way…”

That night, after the first burst of urgent passion, they lay quietly, feeling the closeness of one another. Then Dovid took his wife again, this time unhurriedly. In that sweetness no war existed, no hate, nothing at all outside nurturing walls, only love. The world ceased….

In their short time together not a word was said about how Chavala had survived, the fear and anxiety she felt every moment for Dovid’s safety. Nor the clawing loneliness. Nor did she ask about Zichron. She did not want to know, in fact.

The night before he left she cooked a very special dinner and refused to think about tomorrow. Life was made up not of days, months or years, it was the moments that counted … only the moments.

When he prepared to leave in the morning she smiled as though he would return that evening.

She sent him away with a box of homemade bread, cakes and cookies. “And give this box to Aaron. Thank him for the gift he sent.” The parting was swift … with no tears. In their precious few moments together there was no time for tears.

In July, Absalom managed to leave Beirut on an American warship. Equipped with a Spanish passport—the Sephardim were useful even if they were snobbish—he made it past the ports and border checks without serious incident, although he nearly forgot at one point not to speak English but words of Spanish he’d been carefully drilled in. Finally he arrived in Alexandria, but he was prevented from disembarking by the British authorities, who questioned his passport.

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