Lone Wolf in Jerusalem

by Ehud Diskin

  “It’s almost time to go to work,” she said. She brushed her hair back from her eyes with her free hand and sighed. “Let’s stay home. I didn’t get any sleep at all, and I know you didn’t either. Max will understand.”

  “I’m all right,” I said. “My head hurts a little, but I’ll be fine. Honestly, I couldn’t sleep even if I stayed. You rest up, and I’ll ask Alec to take your shift. I need to talk to him anyway.”

  “You’re the one who risked his life last night, not me,” she said. “I wish I had been there with you.”

  I cupped her face between my hands and saw the weariness in her eyes. “I’m so glad you weren’t. I’m fine. Go back to bed, please.”

  She leaned against my shoulder for a moment, then sniffed my shirt and looked up, her eyes widening. “Uh, why don’t you take a shower?” she said with a laugh. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

  I grinned and went into the bathroom to have myself a nice cleansing shower. When I came out, I had on clean clothes, and Shoshana gave me a hug. I ate a slice of bread topped with margarine and cheese that she had prepared for me.

  Shoshana walked me to the door as I left for work. “Please tell Max I’ll be there tomorrow,” she said. “And tonight, I want you to tell me how you got that lump on your head.”

  “Clumsiness,” I told her.

  She kissed me lightly on the lips. “I want to hear all about the ‘wall’ you ran into.”

  I made no promises but gave her another kiss and left to find Alec in the Bukharan Quarter. On our way to work, I told him what I had been through.

  “You won’t be able to rest until we kill this Jeffries scum,” Alec said.

  “You’re right,” I said, “but I need a solid plan, and I’ve yet to come up with one.”

  “David,” Alec said, trying to suppress his frustration, “I don’t think you’ve been very focused lately. That bastard has got you dancing on the end of a string, and you’re not doing anything about it.”

  I didn’t respond, but I knew he was right.

  When we entered the restaurant, Max was bursting with excitement. “I have wonderful news!” he exclaimed. “Nelka and I are getting married. We want you and Shoshana to be with us under the chuppah. The wedding is next week at my apartment.”

  “Congratulations,” I said sincerely. “Shoshana and I are happy for you both.”

  “Thank you.” He frowned. “Speaking of Shoshana, where is she?”

  I explained why Shoshana was not coming to work and then told him briefly about my arrest. He said he would inform his commander.

  When I got home from work, Shoshana was overjoyed to hear the news about Max and Nelka.

  “That’s wonderful!” she said, clasping her hands together, her eyes shining. She poured me a glass of wine. “Shall we toast to them?”

  I picked up the glass and clinked it against hers. I took a drink and then shook my head. “Who would have thought that Max was such a romantic?”

  Shoshana gave me a worried look as she sipped from her glass. “How is your head?” she asked. “I saw Brigita today and told her you had been injured.”

  “You didn’t tell her that I’ve joined the resistance, did you?”

  “No, no,” she assured me, “of course not. I told her that you were reading a leaflet when a policeman struck you.”

  “Shoshana!” I raised both brows in surprise. “I didn’t think you capable of telling a lie.”

  “It isn’t a lie,” she said, a little defensively. “I assume you were reading the leaflets as you posted them.” She smiled then, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “She asked me to say she would like you to visit her tomorrow before work.”

  “Very well, but please, don’t tell Brigita anything about me that isn’t necessary.”

  Shoshana put her glass down and slipped her arms around my neck. “I can think of something right now that is very necessary.”

  WHEN I ARRIVED FOR MY appointment the next morning, Brigita welcomed me with her customary cup of tea. She kicked off the conversation as I settled into the armchair.

  “I’ve been thinking about you a lot since our last meeting,” she said. “I think I have a better understanding of you now, and I can identify with your feelings. On the other hand, we have Shoshana, whom I feel very close to and responsible for. When you were single, you had every right to do as you pleased, but you are Shoshana’s only emotional support, and you have to take that into serious consideration. She was devastated when you were injured last night.”

  I raised one brow. “Did she say she was devastated? I thought she seemed to take it in stride.”

  “Did she now?” Brigita nodded. “Well, perhaps she’d had time to conceal her concern before you got home.”

  “Or maybe she’s tougher than you think,” I shook my head. “It was just a misunderstanding with the police.”

  “Yes, so she said.” She gazed at me for a long moment. “Are you willing to sacrifice her peace of mind to fight your war?”

  “It’s not that simple,” I responded after some thought. “Clearly, we all need to consider those around us, particularly those who are very dear to us, but there are bigger things at stake. After all, if we think only of our loved ones, we will remain without a homeland. If there’s one lesson to be learned from the Nazis, it’s that the Jewish people need a national home in Israel.”

  Brigita frowned, then sighed. “I can’t argue with you,” she said. “Things are tough whichever way I look, and I’m worried. I think I understand how parents feel, because I feel that kind of affinity toward you and Shoshana. Look after yourself, David—for the sake of you both.”

  “I’ll do my best, and I hope things work out well for all of us,” I said.

  Our conversation turned then to one of my missions during the war, but her words echoed in my mind long after I left her apartment.

  MAX AND NELKA‘S WEDDING TOOK place at Max’s large corner apartment in the affluent neighborhood of Rehavia, near the center of Jerusalem. It was a joyous event attended by Max’s surprisingly large number of friends, many of whom I had seen before at Café Pinsk. I spotted the commander in the crowd.

  I introduced him to Shoshana, and he bowed and kissed her hand in true Polish style. He and Nelka chatted in Polish, which I struggled to follow, but she mentioned my name several times, so I assumed she was telling him about our time in Poland. He glanced at me now and then as she spoke, and his expression seemed to be one of approval.

  The ceremony under the chuppah took place on the roof, under the evening sky. While the rabbi prayed, Shoshana and I stood next to Max and Nelka. They looked like a pair of beaming young lovers, and it thrilled me to see Nelka so happy.

  I recalled the woeful look in her eyes when I’d met her for the first time in Krakow—an Auschwitz survivor stripped of everything. And here she was, in Israel, with a wealthy partner who loved her. I was happy too, but for the pain of remembering the loss of my family. That pain, I knew, would never go away.

  After the chuppah ceremony had concluded, we went back down to the apartment, and it was time for the bride and groom’s speeches. Max spoke first, saying that Nelka was a unique woman who had changed his life for the better.

  “Nelka, you make me happy and add flavor to my life,” he concluded, sealing his words with a kiss.

  “Darling Max,” she responded, “you bring joy and sweetness to me every day.”

  Then we sat down to a sumptuous meal the likes of which I had never seen before—chopped herring, mushrooms in heavy sour cream, and cauliflower latkes to start, then leg of lamb with rice and stuffed peppers, followed by an assortment of cakes and cookies for dessert. Amazingly, Max, with the help of a small staff, had prepared the entire feast. He had acquired admirable culinary skills during his many years as a restaurateur.

  When the feast was over, Max brought out his phonograph and put on a Frank Sinatra record. I watched Alec dance with Eva. My friend seemed to have a sweet, soft look in his
eyes. He came over to talk to me when the dance ended.

  “You know,” he said, “Eva is amazing. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier. I think I’ll give it a go with her.”

  “Good for you,” I said, slapping him on the shoulder.

  Shoshana finally persuaded me to dance, and we moved with my arms wrapped around her to the sound of Sinatra’s voice. At that moment, my heart and mind were free of the dark clouds that too often cast their shadows over me, and I danced in the light of joy.

  IN THE DAYS FOLLOWING THE wedding, we started to hear rumors that the underground organizations were planning reprisals against the British. For the time being, though, the uneasy stillness was holding.

  On July 8, Shimon, my burly chaperone, showed up at the restaurant at the end of my shift and said the commander wanted to see me. When we reached the house in Talpiot, the commander, along with two men who didn’t introduce themselves, was waiting for me.

  “David,” the commander said after greeting me, “there are plans to carry out a large-scale operation against the British in the coming days. Your job will be to provide Inspector Jeffries with some information about the operation ahead of time, to boost your credibility. I’ll give you the intel in a few days.”

  I nodded. “Very well.”

  “But before that,” he went on, “I want you to arrange a meeting with Jeffries to pass on a piece of political information I believe he will find most interesting. I’m referring to the relationship between the Irgun and the Haganah. The British are generally aware of the situation, but you’re going to give them more specific details. I want you to tell Jeffries that the information came from a meeting with Irgun members whose names you don’t yet know. Also, tell him that the meeting included a discussion about a large-scale operation scheduled for the near future but that you weren’t able to learn anything more about it.”

  “Of course,” I said.

  The commander turned to one of the other two men in the room. “Tell him,” he said in a tone that clearly indicated the man was one of his subordinates, perhaps a close aide. Something about the aide’s appearance made me think his background was in politics or intelligence rather than actual combat.

  “Chaim Weizmann,” the aide said, “president of the Zionist Organization, is adamantly opposed to any action against the British and has threatened to resign if the Haganah gets involved. Ben-Gurion has gotten cold feet as well. So Moshe Sneh, head of the Haganah national staff, cannot conduct any operations through the Haganah. But he has been in direct contact with Menachem Begin, pushing for a large-scale operation by the Irgun as payback for Black Sabbath. He believes the British need to be taught a lesson.”

  Moshe Sneh had the right idea. For a moment, I wished I could join him and play a larger part in the revenge he had planned. But my place was here, at least for now.

  “You need to relay these details to Inspector Jeffries as soon as possible,” the commander told me.

  I reported the following morning to the Schneller Barracks and was admitted after the usual thorough body search. The two soldiers escorted me to Jeffries’s office, flanking me closely, as if I were a prisoner. The security measures at the barracks had clearly been significantly tightened.

  “What news do you have for me?” Jeffries asked as he poured our customary glasses of whiskey.

  “I think the Irgun is starting to trust me a little more after the night I spent in detention,” I said. “I was invited to one of their meetings, and I think you’ll be interested in what I heard.”

  “I’m listening,” Jeffries said, taking a generous sip from his glass.

  I told him about the dispute within the Jewish Authority and the Haganah. Jeffries appeared particularly interested when I said that Sneh had been in direct contact with the Irgun.

  “So Sneh met with Begin,” Jeffries said. “Do you know where?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “We’ve been making a huge effort in recent months to get our hands on Begin. I give you my word, if you bring me information that helps us capture him, I will make sure you get not only a significant reward but also all the necessary papers for your girlfriend to stay here legally.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Of course, I will do everything I can, but I have more to tell you. I heard during the meeting that there’s going to be a large-scale operation against the British this month. I don’t know any more right now, but I’ll try to find out.”

  Jeffries smiled, and his British accent broadened. “I think you’ve definitely earned yourself another glass.” He poured another round. I wanted to throw the whiskey in his face, but drinking it somewhat eased my sense of disgust.

  When I got back to our apartment, Shoshana was waiting for me so we could walk to the restaurant together. I kissed her and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. She followed me. As I drained the glass and refilled it, she stopped beside me and laid her hand on my arm.

  “I know you well enough to sense you’re plotting something,” she said. “You’ve been lucky until now, but you know from experience that the more risks you take, the greater chance you have of ending up hurt.”

  I remembered my conversation with Brigita, and I felt for Shoshana, but I had to deal with Jeffries.

  “I have one more mission to carry out, and I must go through with it,” I said, putting my arm around her. My gaze went from her gentle face to the window. “You know, I often think about why no one else in my family survived and why I lived when so many of the brave men and women I fought alongside were killed. I know I have skill in combat, and I’m very careful about not making mistakes. But I also believe there’s an element of luck or divine intervention.” I smiled down at her. “Sometimes I get the sense an angel is watching over me.”

  “I hope there is an army of angels watching over you,” she said softly.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “I need all the help I can get with my next operation.” My smile faded. “It’s the most important one so far.”

  Shoshana looked up at me, her eyes large and intense. “David, lately I’ve been thinking that it isn’t right you’re willing to risk your life for our nation, while all I do is design leaflets.” She lifted her chin in a gesture I was beginning to recognize. This was important to her. “I want to be more involved in the operations against the British. I’m going to talk to Max and to the commander about it.”

  I could barely believe what I was hearing. This was certainly not the fragile woman I had met not too long ago. Shoshana was becoming stronger, more daring. The look in her eyes reminded me of Leah, but unlike Leah, she had no training. And even with training … My mind flashed back to the woods, Leah in my arms, bloody and lifeless. I took a deep breath.

  “Shoshana,” I said, “before you talk to Max, first listen to me. This is a very dangerous business. I’ve been a fighter for years and have only survived by the skin of my teeth.” I brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “Your desire to contribute is admirable, but I suggest we look into this very carefully and see how you can get involved without too much risk.”

  “But I know I could do this,” she said. “I could help in the fight.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, “but your lack of experience could cost you your life, and that, my love, is an unbearable thought.” I kissed her briefly, but I could see she wasn’t convinced.

  We left for work, both of us deep in thought, hardly exchanging a word. Max seemed to sense our heavy mood and tried to tell a few jokes, but when we didn’t respond, he left us in peace.

  “The commander wants to see you on Sunday,” Max told me when the shift was over. “He also asked me not to put you on the roster for Monday, because you’ll be busy.”

  “Okay,” I said, concealing my excitement. The operation was about to kick off.

  16

  “AND WHERE A SPURT OF OUR BLOOD FELL ON THE EARTH”

  (FROM “SONG OF THE PARTISANS” BY HIRSH GLICK, 1943)

  Shimon came to collect me two n
ights later. There were several other people at the house in Talpiot when we got there. The commander led me into an empty room, sat down, and gestured to a chair across from his desk.

  “There’s going to be an assault tomorrow on a building that houses British government offices,” he said. “You don’t need to know exactly which building, but I do want to stress that the plan is to hit the building itself and not the people who work there. You need to go to the Schneller Barracks tomorrow morning at eleven thirty and tell Jeffries that you’ve learned of a plan to blow up one of the British government buildings.”

  “Is this true or a bluff?” I asked.

  He frowned. “It is very true. All you need to know is that the building is in Jerusalem and that the explosion will occur between 12:15 and 1:15 p.m. If they evacuate all their buildings in the city, they won’t suffer any casualties. We are planning to corroborate this to the Brits through a second channel, but the information should certainly earn you points with Jeffries.”

  We shook hands, and I was driven back home with much to think about.

  The next morning, I arrived at the gate of the Schneller Barracks at eleven thirty sharp. I asked to see Inspector Jeffries and was told I would have to wait at least an hour.

  “I’m here on a very urgent matter,” I said. “Ask the inspector’s deputy to come to the gate.” Some thirty minutes went by before a police sergeant came to see me.

  “I need to see your superior right away,” I told him. “There’s going to be an attack within the hour!”

  His gaze swept over me in disdain, and then he shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said before turning away.

  I waited, pacing back and forth for another twenty minutes, and still nobody came. “I must speak with the man who was here earlier,” I said to the guard through the gate.

  “He knows what he’s doing,” the guard replied. “If he told you he was dealing with it, that’s all you need to know.”