Beyond the Shield

by Nachman Kataczinsky

  After the meeting was over Ze’ev called Esther. “I promised to check the options you might have to enter medical school. There are some that your advisor didn’t mention to you, although they’re not necessarily good.”

  “Apparently Tel Aviv University still has their program for foreign students. You know that to become an MD in Israel you have to study for six years, much like in Europe. Tel Aviv’s program was designed for Americans. Getting in is difficult; you have to demonstrate college-level knowledge of biology and chemistry.

  “You could continue at Beer Sheva University, graduate with a degree in life sciences and continue to medical school. Since we really need more doctors there are plans to expand the existing medical schools and there is a good possibility that after two years at Beer Sheva you’ll be able to switch to medical school.

  “Another possibility would be to train as a pharmacist. It’s much easier to get into those programs and they would likely take you in next year.

  “A third possibility that my daughter Shoshanna mentioned is to go to nursing school. If your goal is to practice medicine and treat people, this may be a good option. You can always continue your education and in four years become a nurse practitioner or physician’s assistant.

  “I’ll have to think about it and discuss my options with the girls and Jacob. We’ll see you next week for Shabbat and can talk about it more then. Thanks.”

  ***

  Ben Mosowitz was impatient. He brought his family to synagogue early on Sunday evening to hear the rabbi’s full story about Israel.

  The rabbi introduced a youngish man. “This is the Jewish Agency representative from Philadelphia here to give us information about Israel and to answer questions.”

  The representative surprised everyone by asking for the light to be dimmed. Only then did Ben notice that a large screen had been erected at the front of the sanctuary. With the lights dimmed the Israeli produced a little box-like device and pressed a button. A projector positioned on a tripod in the back of the room came to life and a documentary about the creation of the state of Israel and life in modern Israel appeared on the screen. Since the film had been produced after the time travel incident that, and the rescue of European Jews, were featured.

  The questions came quickly.

  “We have seen well-made movies before,” one of the congregants said. “What assurance do we have that it’s not just a fantasy? We all know what Hollywood can do.”

  “Ask your rabbi if what the movie shows about current life in Israel is true.”

  Soon the questions shifted to the practical. People wanted to know how they would manage: would they be able to find a job, was their training or profession in demand, where would they live, what were the schools like.

  On their way home Ben and Evelyn were quiet for a while, digesting the information and the answers Ben got to his questions. Finally Evelyn said, “So, are you still considering moving to Palestine?”

  “Moving to Israel,” Ben corrected. “And yes, I think I want to move. There are still a number of questions I need answered but I see no reason to stay here.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “The only Hebrew you know is from the prayer book. How do you expect to run a business in a place you know nothing about? When Bea goes to school she will need to learn a new language. I will most likely not be able to help even with simple homework and the things I do here, like running the household, may be beyond me there. We’ll have to live just on your income, which will likely be lower in Israel. All this trouble, for what?”

  “Evie, you’re pointing out temporary difficulties. I’m quite sure that we will settle in like millions of others. We will learn Hebrew, as will Bea. If my furniture and business abilities aren’t enough to make a living I will try something new.”

  “You may be right and all the difficulties are temporary, but so is life. Why abandon our comfortable home here for an iffy future in a faraway, socialist, land?”

  Ben shook his head. “First, Israel is not a socialist country. This has been clarified by the film as well as the rabbi. It’s not the Palestine we knew about.

  “There is one great advantage to living in Israel: We will be among our own people, part of the majority. We will also benefit from advanced science, like much better medical care when we need it. Wouldn’t you rather go to a Jewish doctor that has knowledge your doctor here never dreamt of? What about hospitals? You realize that if we need serious medical care here it will eat all our savings. In Israel they have insurance. Besides, from what I understand some conditions considered incurable here are trivial in Israel.

  “You make it sound easy,” Evelyn responded.

  “It will definitely not be easy. We’ll have plenty of aggravation and will probably be angry and disappointed more than once, but we will acclimate and within a year or two we will be happy we moved. At least I hope so.

  Evelyn shrugged. “I’m uneasy about this. We’ll be throwing away bread and going someplace to look for crumbs.”

  Ben was quiet for a moment, concentrating on driving. “Look, I really want to go. The rabbi is going; Joe and Shelly with their two kids are going. Even your friend Rosa is going with her husband, six children and elderly mother. Must have been a tough decision for them.

  “What will you do when your whole maj group leaves? And how can we have a good Jewish life here if the rabbi and most of the community emigrates?

  “Maybe you should talk to your friends and see what people are thinking.”

  “Okay.” Evelyn shrugged. “We did talk about this at a sisterhood meeting but that was just after the rabbi came back. There wasn’t much information available. I might feel different after discussing it with my friends.

  “I’m somewhat surprised how you feel. I thought that you were used to dealing with gentiles and anti-Semites.”

  ***

  Avigdor Mizrahi, the Israeli ambassador to Britain, greeted General Wilson and got right to business. “General, my government is of the opinion that the time is ripe for a tripartite conference with our Soviet allies. What do you think of both of us meeting with the Soviet ambassador, Maisky, to discuss such a conference?”

  Wilson looked slightly uncomfortable. “Ambassador, I have already contacted Mr. Maisky. We’re supposed to meet next week to discuss a summit.”

  “You didn’t consider it necessary to consult with us before doing this?”

  “Well, like you told me once, we’re allies but we’re independent,” Wilson responded.

  “I have an impression, and I sincerely hope I’m wrong, that His Majesty’s Government is reverting to treating the Jews the way it always has.” Mizrahi let anger show in his voice. “Shall we reciprocate and negotiate with the Soviets separately? Is that what the Prime Minister wants?”

  “Absolutely not. Mr. Ambassador, it was my mistake. The Prime Minister told me to arrange a summit and I assumed, mistakenly, that he meant himself and Mr. Stalin. A stupid oversight for which I apologize.”

  Mizrahi sat back in his chair. “General, if I didn’t have some experience with you I could interpret this episode the wrong way. As it is, I trust your integrity and will recommend to my government to accept your apology.

  “But to prevent any further misunderstandings, cancel your meeting with Mr. Maisky now. I will make an appointment for both of us.

  “We need to coordinate our positions before we speak to Maisky. Stalin won’t want to meet in Britain; he may have no safe way of getting here. I suggest that we meet in Israel. Mr. Churchill, I’m sure, will enjoy the visit and Stalin can get there easily, although he’ll refuse and propose a location in the Soviet Union.”

  Wilson looked surprised, “You are ready to disclose to the Soviets who you really are?”

  “Not really,” Mizrahi responded. “We will just let them see but offer no explanations. They can think whatever they choose to.”

  “If you don’t offer an explanation Stalin may be seriously offended.”

  “Yes
, he may be, but I doubt it.” Mizrahi smiled. “He will likely never ask directly – that would be admitting ignorance and not in his character. He also understands secrecy.”

  “But why would you want to disclose anything to him?” Wilson sounded very curious.

  “General, I’m thinking about the future and we, I mean Israel and Britain, will have serious disagreements with the Soviets. Please ask yourself whether your position would be improved or worsened by having an ally on your side that Stalin at least respects or is somewhat apprehensive of?”

  “Yes, I see what you are trying to achieve. Britain alone would have difficulty dictating conditions to the Soviets. Together we might be able to pull it off.

  “This brings me to the next point: what is the endgame you propose? To finish off the Germans and not let the Soviets take control of half of Europe?”

  Mizrahi pulled out a sheaf of papers from his briefcase. “Please give this to the Prime Minister. This is my government’s desired outcome of this war. I suggest that we meet again to discuss this in detail.

  “One remark though: My government asked that you stop the advance in France. We will not advance any further in Austria. The Soviets will become aware of this lack of progress soon enough and Stalin will have an incentive to meet and negotiate.”

  Chapter 11

  November 1942

  November weather in the Alps can be unpleasant. This morning low clouds were racing over Innsbruck, releasing snow. It was cold. The Israelis prepared to receive a German force outnumbering them several times over.

  Brigadier General Oded Almog, commanding the Israeli force in Innsbruck, knew that although German communications spoke of more than ten divisions closing on his position, the actual force was only about five or six times larger than his. German divisions became smaller as the war progressed and losses mounted. Still, more than sixty thousand troops, with tanks and artillery, were nothing to sneeze at.

  After several long discussions the staff recommended attacking from the air the smaller German force coming from the east. The combined infantry and armor division moving on a single road would be decimated before ever reaching the Israeli positions west of Innsbruck. The tactic was to be repeated on the main force approaching from the west. Since that force was much larger – almost 50,000 thousand strong – it was assumed that more planes and more sorties would be necessary to destroy it. The planners expected that the remnants of this force would retreat or, if they decide to continue with their mission, be mostly harmless.

  It was a good plan that very quickly became obsolete. The larger German force was moving in from the west. A cold front moving from the northwest brought a low cloud ceiling and close to zero visibility. The air force could still do some damage but not close to what was called for by the plan. The situation in the east was much better. Just fifteen miles in that direction the sky was clear. The German division was advancing fast enough to come into the proposed killing zone within the next couple of hours.

  General Almog made his decision. Close to twenty jets, mostly obsolete Kfirs and some even older Phantoms, took off from the new air strip near Venice. With the airstrip only 130 miles from their objective they could keep up a nonstop attack even with some planes going back to refuel and rearm.

  The first to see the attacking planes was an officer on the last truck in the German convoy. The truck carried a quad 20mm antiaircraft mount. “Fritz, point your gun there. Open fire when they’re in range.” Next he pounded on the cabin roof of the truck and yelled at the radio operator inside. “Notify command that we’re coming under air attack from the east.” The truck exploded before the radio operator could obey the order. The attacking jets used rockets to destroy almost a mile of the column before they ran out of rockets. The next wave took over seamlessly.

  Minutes later the column stopped and troops jumped off the trucks. Tanks driving on the road in-between the trucks tried going into the fields. Everyone was shooting into the sky, including several antiaircraft batteries of 88mm guns and 20mm quad mounts. It’s very difficult to hit a fast, low flying jet with a manually controlled 88mm mount. It’s slightly more practical with a mechanized 20mm mount but not if the attackers use long range rockets to attack from a distance. None of the German projectiles did any damage.

  Two hours later the German 27th division and its attached mechanized regiment ceased to exist as a coherent unit. Israeli jets chased individual tanks and artillery, strafing vehicles still parked on and by the road. Of the jets participating in the attack three returned with bullet holes but no serious damage.

  General Almog had ongoing reports from both the air force and his observers just east of Innsbruck. When the last jet left for its base Almog gave his orders: “Tell the two tank companies in the east to transfer to the west and park just east of the Inn River Bridge west of Innsbruck University. Keep the two infantry companies in place north of the Friedberg Castle. They’re to block the road and dispose of any stragglers.”

  Several minutes later his adjutant came into the office, “Sir, we intercepted a transmission from the commander of the western force. He asks for permission to stop where he is and regroup. Our drones can see in infrared that their vehicles have stopped. It seems that he didn’t wait permission.”

  General Almog looked out the window of his office on the western outskirts of town. He had a good view of the mountains and valley but there wasn’t much to see now. Low clouds obscured not just the mountains but also much of the valley floor. He got up and gestured the adjutant to follow. In the room next door, the hotel’s dining room, a map table was set up with a large scale map of Innsbruck and surrounds.

  “Where are their forward units?” Almog asked his chief of staff.

  “About 10 miles west of our positions, on both banks of the Inn River.”

  Almog looked at his watch. “We have three, maybe four, hours of daylight left. If the Germans delay much longer and decide to advance anyway they will be much easier to deal with. The dark is our friend. What’s the weather forecast?”

  The meteorologist sitting in the far corner spoke up. “There are clouds extending several hundred miles to our west and about 200 miles to the north. The wind shifted and is now North-Northeast at 15 miles per hour. If it continues blowing from the same direction and speed for the next eight hours, the Germans will be out from under the clouds.”

  Almog thought for a moment. “I want artillery observers high on the sides of the valley in front of us. Make sure everyone has their infrared equipment ready and functioning. Use a helicopter to position the observers. The less accessible their positions, the safer they’ll be.”

  “Sir,” the Chief of Staff said, “I’m not sure about the helicopter. The clouds are touching the bottom of the valley. They might not be able to fly in this soup.”

  “Ask their commander,” Almog responded. “If they can’t, they can’t, but I think that if our observers can see using their shortwave infrared binoculars in this soup the helicopter pilots can as well.”

  The General returned to his office to review, for the umpteenth time, his force disposition and ammunition reserves. The most worrisome issues were his tanks and artillery not having enough ammunition to break the German force without the assistance of the air force. He repeated his calculations and compared them to the work done by his quartermaster. The numbers looked good so General Almog went back to the command center. He wanted one more look at the map.

  He was greeted by his Chief of Staff. “Oded, you came in just as I was going to report. The Germans got their orders. They are supposed to dig in, establish anti-air defenses, and shut the valley so that we can’t move down the road to Garmish and Munich. This will require them to advance another couple of miles.

  “According to the same communication from the OKH, they are moving another force of at least four full Waffen SS divisions to cut us off from the east. Our intelligence guys are sure that these were taken off the Eastern Front and are full strength,
about 80,000 men with several hundred tanks and artillery. They should be in place in another week.”

  “Incredible,” Almog responded. “They expect us to sit here and wait to be almost surrounded.”

  “Or retreat to the Brenner Pass,” responded the Chief of Staff.

  “We will do neither. I want our lead units to advance west beyond the Garmisch-Partenkirchen intersection. We’ll see if the Germans want to fight for it. In the meantime prepare a detailed plan to defeat the force to our west.”

  “How far do you want to advance to defeat them?”

  “As far as necessary. We need to destroy them before the eastern forces arrive.”

  ***

  Zaretzky arrived at the Writer’s Union just as the streets of Moscow were getting dark. Lights were out because of the German air raids and blackout. It would be difficult to get back to the legation unless his new friend Ivan Andreyev provided transportation. Zaretzky went directly to the room indicated in their previous meeting. Andreyev was waiting. “Good evening, comrade Zaretzky.”

  “Good evening,” Zaretzky responded.

  “Would you like cookies with your tea?” Andreyev inquired.

  Zaretzky looked pleased. After all, cookies were a luxury in wartime Moscow and cookies without the need to present a ration card were a privilege of the powerful. “Yes, comrade Andreyev. I’d appreciate some.”

  “Comrade Zaretzky,” Andreyev began, “there are many things we don’t know or understand about your country. Would you mind if I asked you some questions? Just to satisfy my personal curiosity, you understand.”

  “Go ahead. I will answer your questions to the best of my ability. Just as long as you remember that I’m a simple diplomat.”

  Andreyev smiled. “Come comrade, you’re the first secretary of the Palestinian legation. That’s not so simple. But first, can you tell me why we didn’t hear from you for so long?”