Lone Wolf in Jerusalem

by Ehud Diskin

  “Well,” I said, turning to Misha, “it’s time for you to meet Shoshana.”

  I led him into our apartment, then forgot him as I walked straight into Shoshana’s arms. After she and I hugged and kissed, I introduced her to Misha. She hugged him warmly too, without saying a word.

  “I thought we would visit Alec,” I said, after showing Misha where to stow his knapsack. “Introduce Misha to him.”

  “Yes,” Shoshana agreed, “let’s do that.” The three of us walked to Alec’s apartment, and when he opened the door, Eva was at his side. After another round of hugs and handshakes, Alec poured shots of vodka for everyone, and Eva offered her apartment to Misha for the next few days.

  “I’m staying here with Alec anyway,” she said. “I do have a new roommate, but I’m sure Magda won’t mind sharing the apartment for a few days with such a handsome man.”

  Misha blushed. “You are too kind,” he said.

  It was still early, so we took Misha shopping for new clothes and toiletries before we went to Eva’s apartment. Magda opened the door for us. She was a young, pretty woman with brown eyes and shoulder-length curly brown hair. She was surprised to see such a crowd in front of her.

  “Magda, darling, this is Misha,” Eva said. “He just got here two days ago. He’s a close friend of David’s and Alec’s and needs a place to stay. Would you mind?”

  When Magda looked at Misha, her gaze locked on his big blue eyes. “No, I don’t mind,” she said, her cheeks turning quite rosy.

  We left Misha there and then parted ways with Alec and Eva in the street. Shoshana and I walked home, arm in arm. Coming home to Shoshana after being absent for days reminded me that I had a new life now, one that she had filled with joy.

  The next morning, I woke up to the smell of fresh rolls. Shoshana had gone out early to fetch them. At breakfast, while enjoying them, I got an idea.

  “Since Alec used to work at the Berman Bakery, he should try to get Misha a job there,” I suggested as I bit into one of the delicious pieces of bread.

  “That’s a great idea,” she said. “You should ask Misha if he would like that.”

  Misha was already awake when I got to Magda’s apartment. She was taking good care of him—had even made him breakfast. When I asked if he would be interested in working at a bakery, he responded with an enthusiastic yes and rushed to his room to grab his knapsack.

  We stopped to pick up Alec at his apartment, and the three of us walked to Berman Bakery in Mea She’arim. One of the managers agreed to speak with Misha, who timidly responded to the man’s questions in halting Hebrew. “I’m happy to help a new immigrant,” the manager said. “You’re hired.”

  We left the bakery in good spirits, and Alec offered to take us all for coffee, so we stopped at Café Europa and asked for Eva.

  “That’s wonderful!” Eva said when Misha told her he had already found a job. “Now that you’re working, maybe I could ask Magda if you could move in with her permanently? She already knows I’m planning to move in with Alec soon. What do you think, Misha?”

  Misha blushed and smiled. “What can I say?” he said. “It’s hard to believe that I just arrived and already have a place to live, a job, and wonderful friends. I couldn’t be any luckier.”

  We ordered coffee and a cheesecake, which Eva brought to the table. “Have you told David?” she asked Alec.

  “I haven’t had a chance yet,” Alec replied.

  “Told me what?”

  “We’re getting married!” Eva exclaimed. I stood and kissed her on the cheek, embracing her and then Alec.

  “Shoshana will be delighted,” I told them.

  “Shoshana will be wondering why you haven’t asked her yet,” Eva said, giving me a knowing smile.

  I cleared my throat and sat back down. “This is delicious cake,” I said and began eating it like a starving man. They all laughed. We finished our cake, and Alec left for work. Eva attended to other tables, and I sat alone with Misha, drinking coffee.

  “Did I ever tell you about Zusha, my friend when I first joined the partisans?” I asked him.

  “Zusha Levkowitz?” Misha asked.

  “Yes, that’s right.” I was somewhat surprised, because Misha and Leah had joined us after Zusha had been killed.

  “I was friends with his son,” Misha told me. “We used to play together in the days before the war.”

  “Izak? Do you know what happened to him?” Perhaps I could at last keep the promise I had made to my friend—to find him or his family.

  “He’s dead,” Misha shook his head. “He was one of the first young people to flee the ghetto. He joined a group of partisans and came back with a friend to help others escape. The Germans caught and executed them. His family is all gone as well.”

  I felt a pang of sorrow and remained silent for a minute before I could talk. Then I told him about Zusha and the promise I had made.

  “It’s a sad story,” Misha said. “A whole family dead and no one to remember them. Those of us who survived have to go on with our lives, but we’ll never be whole again.”

  “We can be whole here,” I said, “in Israel. But first we have to get rid of the damn British.”

  “I suspect you’re already working on that.” Misha leaned toward me, his hands laced together in front of him. “I’d love to join you in the struggle, if you’ll have me.”

  “I may be able to point you in the right direction. Give yourself a few days to get organized, and we’ll discuss the matter again.”

  Misha nodded, and we fell silent as Eva came back to refill our cups.

  “I’ve never told anyone in detail how Leah died and I survived,” I said when we were alone again. “But I’ll tell you now.”

  “I would like to hear.”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

  “It was a beautiful day, and Leah and I went for a walk in the forest. I loved your sister, you know. We had a blanket … We lay down on it, we made love, and then we dozed off. All at once I was jarred awake by a faint noise. I opened my eyes and saw two men standing twenty feet from us with rifles at their sides. I rolled over and reached for my submachine gun as they opened fire. When the magazine in my gun was empty, there was no one left to fire at—I dropped the gun and turned to Leah …”

  I paused at that moment, opened my eyes, and immediately regretted it when I saw the tears rolling down Misha’s cheeks. I couldn’t go on.

  “Tell me,” he urged. I nodded, swallowing hard.

  “Oh, my God, Misha,” I said hoarsely, “our sweet girl was lying motionless on the ground, blood pouring out of her chest. Her beautiful eyes were open, and she was alive but couldn’t speak. There were only a few moments of life left in her. She died in my arms.”

  I closed my eyes again to let the pain of the memory have its way with me—it seemed only fitting. When I opened them again, Misha’s stricken gaze made my heart clench. I couldn’t tell if he was judging me harshly or not. I stumbled forward with more words.

  “I feel so guilty that Leah was killed and I survived. I guess I’ve always felt I should be punished for what happened. And I think the truth is that I expected, and even wanted, you to hate me. When you said you never wanted to see me again, I knew I deserved your hatred, and truly? I hated myself.” I released a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. “I am sorry, my friend. I would give my life to bring her back.”

  Misha wiped the moisture from his face and kept on gazing straight ahead. It took another moment or so, and then his eyes met mine.

  “What I feel now,” he said, “is a mixture of sadness and relief. I wish I had known earlier. We were partisans, and our lives were in danger every minute of every day. It’s terrible that Leah was killed, but I don’t blame you any longer. We will both remember Leah with love. I consider you family. You are my brother, as she would have wanted.”

  “I feel the same,” I said, relief flooding over me and a huge weight lifting off of my shoulders. “I am s
o happy to have your friendship once again, brother.”

  We stood and embraced. After all of this time, to have Misha as my friend again, well, it was more than I could have ever hoped for. We headed over to Café Pinsk, where I introduced Misha to Max. He greeted him graciously.

  “It’s wonderful that your small group is forming again here in Jerusalem,” Max said and then frowned. “By the way, your friend Avrum isn’t happy here, and I think he wants to leave. Maybe you’d like to come back to work in his place? Or perhaps Misha would like to work here. He looks like a strong young man.”

  “Thank you for the offer, but David and Alec have helped me find a job at the bakery,” Misha said.

  “Pah! The bakery!” Max said, waving one hand. “When you grow tired of that, you come back here, and I’ll put you to work.”

  “I might be able to pick up a few shifts,” I said. “Let me think about it.”

  “Let me know as soon as possible,” Max said. “I also have a message for you from Zvi. He wants to meet tomorrow afternoon. If that works for you, Shimon will pick you up.”

  “All right,” I said, then looked up in surprise as Avrum stopped beside our table.

  He shot Max a nervous look. Max ignored him and began talking to Misha. Avrum lowered his voice. “I need to talk to you,” he said. “Can you stop by tomorrow for breakfast?”

  Breakfast at Avrum’s? No, I couldn’t endure Hannah’s hugs and alluring looks any longer. I stood. “Max, I need a word with Avrum. Do you mind?”

  Max frowned. “Don’t keep him long. He’s slow enough as it is at keeping up with his tables.”

  I told Avrum to follow me out to the street. Once outside, Avrum started ranting in his usual overly dramatic way.

  “Max is driving me crazy,” he said, waving his hands. “He’s always picking at me about one thing or another, and nothing I do pleases him! I actually like the job, especially the customers, but Max is unbearable!”

  “I had the same problem at first,” I reassured him. “It’s a good job—decent work, and Max pays well. I suggest you give yourself a few more days, and I’ll see if I can get Max to ease up on you.”

  “Thank you.” Avrum shook my hand profusely and then began pacing back and forth, exuding nervous energy. “If you can’t, I don’t know what I’ll do.” He came to a stop. “There’s something else I’d like to discuss with you. I’m seriously considering joining the Irgun or Lehi. I’m an excellent marksman, and I have a sniper rifle with ammunition. What do you think?”

  Keeping secrets wasn’t his strong suit—or Hannah’s—so I responded cautiously. “Let me ask around, and don’t say a word to anyone else about this, not even your wife.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  “Good. Now, get back to work, and don’t worry about Max.”

  He nodded and rushed back into the restaurant.

  SHIMON SHOWED UP THAT AFTERNOON to take me to Talpiot. Commander Zvi greeted me with a warm embrace and slapped me on the shoulder.

  “You showed a good deal of creativity by tampering with those beers. Shimon also told me about the incident with the two Arab bandits. I have to admit that I would have told you not to take the weapons. But your resourcefulness saved your lives and allowed the operation to go ahead successfully.” Zvi smiled. “It seems like every operation you’re involved in ends with someone dead, but the important thing is that you achieve your objectives.”

  I smiled back, and we all sat down together to discuss the reason for our meeting.

  “The British public and press,” Zvi began, “are beginning to express doubts about their government’s policies in Israel. Churchill himself has said that the faltering British economy can’t afford the cost of maintaining a military presence here, particularly since it doesn’t serve their interests. In light of this change in mood, we think there’s a good chance the British will leave Israel in the foreseeable future.”

  “How long do you think it could be?” I asked.

  “Maybe anywhere between one year and three,” Zvi said. “I think the best-case scenario would be the second half of 1947, while the worst-case would be around the end of 1949. Either way, we’re going to have serious problems with the Arabs soon. They’re opposed not only to a Jewish state but also to our presence here at all. If we can bring in enough immigrants, I think we can handle the local Arab population, but if the Arab states decide to send in their armies, we could be in big trouble.

  “Some say this is unlikely, since the Arab states haven’t been able to agree on much of anything lately. Ben-Gurion is convinced that a British withdrawal will prompt the Arab states to join forces to forcibly prevent the establishment of the Jewish state, and I am inclined to agree with him. With this in mind, we urgently need to prepare a Jewish fighting force that can stand up to the Arab armies. This force will have to include the newcomers, and most of them have no military experience whatsoever. David, this issue must be addressed, and I want you to start training these folks how to fight. We’ll find a place where you can do the work.”

  “Excellent,” I said.

  “I also want you and Shimon to carry out an operation against a major British command post. I want it to be big, but I want the British casualties kept to a minimum.”

  I was surprised. “Why?” I asked. “Usually casualties aren’t much of a consideration on either side of the battle.”

  “The Jewish Agency and World Zionist Organization believe they can convince the British to leave through diplomacy and international propaganda, but the only thing that had a real effect on public and political opinions in Britain was the bombing of the King David Hotel. Still, the large number of casualties sparked intense anger and a desire for revenge among the British, and they responded with mass arrests, lengthy curfews, and an intensified police presence that has caused major problems for the underground organizations. As a result, my fellow fighters and I have come to the conclusion that our operations against the British should be high-profile and hard-hitting in terms of morale but low in casualties in order to minimize their retaliation.”

  “I’d be proud to participate,” I said.

  Zvi clapped me on the back. “You’re not merely a participant—you’ll be the commander. What will you need to get started?”

  “I need time to think, though I can say that I’d like Shimon and my friend Alec to work with me on the preparations—and also my friend Misha, whom you’ll meet soon. He’s a young Jew from Belarus who fought with me as a partisan.”

  “If he is that close to you and you trust him, then we will welcome him.”

  “I trust him completely,” I responded. “There’s one other man I’d like to include. His name is Avrum, and he used to serve in the British police”—Zvi frowned—“but he was fired following a confrontation with an anti-Semitic officer. I can vouch that he’s a Jewish patriot. He’s also an excellent sniper and has intimate knowledge of British police and military command posts. The only drawback is he is a talker, so I won’t include him in the planning stage, only in the execution.”

  “Okay,” Zvi said. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. I’m going to need an experienced demolitions expert.”

  “That, you already have,” Zvi said with a smile. “Our Shimon is a modest man, but he’s actually the Wolves’s best saboteur.”

  It was the first time I had ever seen Shimon blush.

  “One more thing,” I went on. “After Avrum was fired from the police, he started working as a waiter at Café Pinsk. Max is a good man but difficult at times. He’s been giving Avrum a hard time. I’d appreciate it if you could speak to Max and let him know that Avrum will be helping in an upcoming operation. If Max gains a little respect for Avrum, I’m sure it will help.”

  “I will talk to Max,” Zvi said. “Anything else?”

  “Yes, I’d like to have a general idea of our schedule.”

  “I suggest you select a target and have a detailed plan in place by the end of the year.”
r />   That didn’t give me much time, but I’d worked under shorter time constraints. I nodded. “I think I can do that.”

  “I’ve already come up with a name for the operation. Barrels Raised,” Zvi said. “It’s from the poem ‘Manning the Barricades’ by Michael Eshbal. Are you familiar with it?”

  “No,” I said. “But I know Eshbal. He was wounded and captured during the assault on Sarafand. The British were going to hang him, but the Irgun put a stop to that when they abducted those British officers in Tel Aviv. By the way, have there been any new developments in the plan to assassinate General Barker?”

  “I haven’t dropped the idea entirely,” Zvi said. “But I’ve heard from reliable sources that both the Irgun and the Lehi have him in their sights, and I’m worried that too much activity around him could ruin the chances for all of us. We’ll let them worry about Barker for now.”

  With that, our meeting ended, and Shimon drove me home. As I was getting out of the car, I told him I was happy that we would be working together again. I wasn’t surprised that he neither smiled nor said a word. He just nodded and waited for me to close the door before driving off.

  I went inside to start planning my next mission.

  21

  “RIFLE TO RIFLE, BARRELS RAISED IN SALUTE”

  (FROM “MANNING THE BARRICADES,” A POEM BY MICHAEL ESHBAL, 1946)

  Before we could start planning Operation Barrels Raised, we had to pick a target. I knew we had to hit a command post that would constitute a severe blow to British pride and hamper their ability to function in Israel. It had to be similar to the attack on the King David Hotel but with far fewer casualties.

  A few days after my meeting with Zvi, I realized Avrum might be the best person to help me decide which base we should attack to provide the most significant message to the Brits. I asked Shoshana to set up a meeting the next morning for me with Avrum outside the barbershop.

  “Does that mean you don’t want to go to their home anymore?” Shoshana asked. “You don’t want to feel Hannah’s ample breasts pressing against you when she hugs you?” Frankly, I was relieved to see she was smiling when she said that.