The Class (75 page)

As the doctor slashed his shirt, he heard the plane door

slam and heard somebody call out, "We've done it. We're going home."

Jason looked at the doctor, whose face was ashen.

"Is it true?" he asked. "Did we really pull it oft?"

"Relax, saba, don't strain yourself. Yes, we got all but one of the hostages. It's not a success. It's a miracle." The plane taxied faster and in another moment was off Ugandan territory. Mission accomplished.

Jason refused to be silent. He sensed that he had very

little time and he still had questions to ask. And things to say.

"Is Yoni dead?" he asked. The doctor nodded. -

"Shit. He was the best of us. The bravest guy I ever knew."

"That's why he would have thought it was worth it, saba. Zvi was now at Jason's side.

"Yeah." Jason smiled, dizzy from loss of blood. "There are no shutouts in war, huh?" -

"Jason, don't tire yourself."

"Don't kid me, Zvi. I'll have plenty of time to rest." He was speaking slower and slower. "I just want ... to be sure that Eva knows that I'm sorry I had to do this to her.

and the boys. Tell them I love them, Zvi...." -

His commanding officer was unable to speak. He simply nodded his head.

"And tell them one more thing." Jason gasped. "Say I've found peace. I've finally. . . found peace."

His head lolled to one side. The doctor placed a hand on

Jason's carotid- artery. He could not find a pulse.

"He was a very brave soldier," Zvi said softly. "Some of the boys said he threw back a live grenade. He still was quick as an athlete on his feet-"

Zvi's voice broke. He turned away and walked to the back of the plane.

They flew on in triumph. And in sorrow.

J

ason Gilbert, Sr., rose as usual at six o'clock on the morning of July 4th -and took a quick dip in the pool. He then put on his robe and returned to the house to shave and prepare for the guests who would be coming to their annual Independence Day barbecue.

He sat down in his dressing room and turned on his television to watch the news. There were already reports of the incredible Israeli commando raid.

The commentator -was saying that it was an exploit that would go down in military history. Not only because of the

distance involved, but because of the brilliant planning that had saved all but one of the hostages at the cost of only two soldiers' lives.

Mr. Gilbert smiled. Incredible, he thought. Jason was

right. Israel will do anything to protect its own. He must be very proud this morning.

There was a live interview with Chaim Herzog, the Israeli ambassador to the UN. He explained the wider meaning of what his country had done.

"There is an alternative to surrendering to terrorism and blackmail. This is a common enemy to all civilized countries. For these people obey no human decencies. We are proud. Not only because we saved over a hundred innocent people- but because of the significance of our act for the cause of human freedom."

"Hear, hear," murmured Jason Gilbert, Sr., and went in to shave.

At about eleven o'clock his friends began to arrive. At twelve-thirty, when he was putting the first hamburgers onto the big outdoor grill, Jenny, the housekeeper, shouted that he had a long-distance call. -

Damn, he thought. Doesn't my staff even take July Fourth off?

He picked up the phone in the kitchen amid the clutter of plates and glasses, intending to make short work of the employee who was disturbing his holiday.

As soon as he heard Eva's voice, he knew. After listening quietly for a few minutes, he promised to call her back later

in the day, and then hung up.

The ashen look on his face startled everyone.

"What's the matter, darling?" his wife asked.

He took her aside and whispered. She was too stunned at first to cry. Then he took a deep breath, determined not to

break down until he could convey what had happened. He called for everyone's attention.

"I suppose by now you've all heard about the Israeli rescue at Entebbe."

There were expressions of admiration among his guests.

"Those men did what no other country in the world would even attempt. And they did it because they were alone. That can make people very brave. I'm especially proud he

continued with great difficulty, "because Jason was one of those soldiers .

His friends began to murmur.

and one of those who were killed."

ANDREW ELIOT'S DIARY

July 5, 1976

We get our New York Times a day late up here in Maine so I didn't learn the terrible news until today. Last night on TV there were some pictures of the Israeli hostages arriving back at Tel Aviv airport arid the tumultuous welcome they

received. There were no shots of the commandos who pulled off the incredible rescue mission because evidently they're a

top-secret group and can't be photographed.

Since July is my custody month with the kids, I pretty much had my hands full planning the fireworks display and

just trying to be a father. Besides, the whole thing had such a fairy-tale aspect that I never imagined anyone I knew could possibly have been associated with it.

I certainly never dreamed that one of the two officers killed was my friend Jason Gilbert. He obviously wasn't

famous enough for any of the networks to mention him by name. But when the army released his picture, it was printed in the Times of July 5th. That's when Dickie Newall called me from New York, knowing that I couldn't have seen my copy yet.

My first reaction was disbelief. Not Jason, I thought. Nothing could happen to him. If for no other reason than because he was basically so good.

I needed time to pull myself-together before facing

the kids. So I told them to go to the village for lunch. I

took a boat and rowed out to the middle of the lake. When I got about as far away from shore as I could, I

pulled in the oars and just floated. 1 tried to make myself confront the truth of what I'd just learned.

And what hit me hardest was how damn unfair it was. Because if there's an Almighty before whom you have to

justify your existence on this earth, Jason had the greatest reason for living of anyone I ever knew.

I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. So I just

sat there and tried to make Sense of things, wondering what

Jason would want me to do.

When I finally rowed back, I called his parents on Long Island. The housekeeper said that they had left for Israel on the previous night's plane. To attend the funeral. Then I thought maybe I should go too. But

- when I asked, she told me that it had been scheduled for today. Apparently it's Jewish tradition to have the burial very quickly. So as I - was prattling mindlessly on the phone, they were probably lowering him into the ground. I thanked the lady and hung up.

When the kids got back in the early afternoon, I sat Andy and Lizzie down on the porch and tried to tell them about my old buddy. I guess they already knew him by name because

everybody from Harvard remembers Jason as the great jock. And whenever two guys in The Class got to reminiscing, his name always came up. They listened patiently while I told them about my friend's heroism, but I could see it was no more

real to them than a John Wayne film.

I tried to make them understand that he had sacrificed himself for a cause. They still remained fairly impassive. I also explained that it was that way in this country too before Vietnam. People went to fight to defend their principles. And then I tried to bring it closer to home by

saying that was why our own ancestors fought the British in

1776.

Andy doesn't like it when I mention this sort of thing. In fact, he was pretty unreceptive to my whole sermon.

He told me that I was incapable of getting into my head that the world has got to outgrow war. That no violence is ever justified.

Okay, I wasn't going to press the point. I figured it was just a stage he was going through. What the hell does a spoiled teenager know about principles anyway?

Even Lizzie was getting a little impatient. So I concluded our talk by saying I had to go into town and buy some more fireworks.

This suddenly awakened Andy's interest. He asked if we were making July Fourth a two-day holiday.

I replied that this was something special.

We were going to set off some flares tonight in mem-ory of

Jason Gilbert. -

George

Keller spent his first month as the President's Special

Advisor for National Security Affairs almost

literally up in the air. He accompanied President Ford and Secretary Kissinger (with a gaggle of reporters) on voyages to Peking, Indonesia, and the Philippines. Cathy, of course, understood that these were not the sort of trips you could take your wife on. So she busied herself working in the ERA campaign headquarters and debachelorizing George's townhouse. As soon as he returned, Kissinger swooped him up again

into an air-force jet heading for Russia to make a last-ditch effort at saving the SALT negotiations.

In their absence, the congressional attacks on Kissinger escalated. Ever sensitive to public criticism, the Secretary of State was in despair. One day George overheard Henry talking to Washington on the secure American Embassy phone in Moscow.

"Mr. President, with due respect, if I have so drastically lost the confidence of my countrymen, then I am prepared to tender my resignation."

George sat with bated breath, wondering how Gerald Ford

was reacting to Henry's latest histrionic offer to step down.

Someday, he thought, they're going to call his bluff and he'll be out. And somebody else will be Secretary of State. Maybe me.

From February on, Washington began to focus increasingly on domestic affairs. For Gerald Ford this meant currying public favor for the upcoming election in November while holding off the threat from Ronald Reagan to usurp the Republican nomination.

George Keller's problem was even more literany domestic.

Cathy wanted to start a family. While he argued that they had plenty of time, she countered with a reminder that she wasn't getting any younger.

"Don't you have the urge to be a father?" she coaxed.

"I'd be a lousy one. I'm much too selfish to give a kid the time."

d~Aha then you've actually thought about it."

"Yes, a bit."

In fact, he had thought about it more than just a little. From the moment they were married he had been aware that Cathy aspired to motherhood.

All their friends had children. Even Andrew Eliot, who had jokingly remarked, "You ought to try it, Keller. I mean, if I can do it anyone can." -

Yet, something visceral in him recoiled at the prospect. Cathy sensed his misgivings and wanted to believe that they

were caused by his own abrasive relationship with his father. So she tried to reassure him that, if anything, he would overcompensate to his child. -

To some extent she was right. But that was only- part of

it. Deep within him was an avenging fury warning that he was too guilty to deserve to be a parent.

Kissinger and George were sitting in the wings during the second debate between President Ford and his Democratic

opponent, Jimmy Carter, on October 6, 1976.

They winced when Ford fumbled with the ill-considered statement that Eastern Europe was "not under Soviet domination."

At this point Henry leaned over and whispered sarcastically, "Nice briefing job you did, Dr. Keller." - George shook his head~ The moment the debate ended he asked Kissinger, "What do you think?"

The Secretary of State replied, 'I think that unless there

s an immediate revolution in Poland, we're all out of a job.

Kissinger was right. On Election Day, the voters of

America sent Jimmy Carter to the White House and Gerald Ford to the golf courses of Palm Springs. Washington would now be a -Democratic town-at least for the next four years. And those closely allied with the Republican cause like George

Keller- had no place in it. Ironically, George's office would be -taken over by his first Harvard patron, Zbigniew Brzezinski. (He wondered fleetingly if he hadn't choosen the wrong horse.)

Cathy was secretly delighted at the turn of events, since she hated her native city. And she was jealous of her bus-

- band's mistress, politics. -

After his, initial disappointment, George started looking for a new career. He rejected invitations from several universities to teach government and several publishing houses to

- write a book about his White House experiences. As far as he was concerned, they were by nO means over.

Instead, he opted to become an international trade consultant to the powerful New York investment firm of Pierson Hancock. The potential remuneration was beyond his wildest dreams. - - -

As he joked to Cathy, "Now I'm worse than a capitalist. I'm a plutocrat."

She smiled and thought, wouldn't it be nice if you became

a parent, too. And with maternity in mind, she convinced her husband that they should live in the country.

George at last acceded and they bought a Tudor house in Darien, Connecticut. It meant a lot of commuting for him each day, but at least he got to read the papers thoroughly before arriving at his office. To discover what was happening in the