by Ehud Diskin
“Cut the tarpaulin over the box,” Shimon said, “so I can see better.” I did as he asked, and sunlight poured in through the ragged hole. He sank to his knees. “Good, now we don’t need to use the flashlight. I can see already that the people who put together the explosive material and the activating system are very professional. They used state-of-the-art technology, unlike our poor underground members.” He pointed to the wires. “There are booby-trap wires. If they are cut, it will trigger the activated system. Then it’s goodbye to all of us.”
“If we cut the wires from the truck battery, we explode. If we cut these wires, we explode. Are you saying you can’t deactivate it?” I asked.
Shimon sighed. “I estimate that our chances of deactivating the system are fifty-fifty. I suggest you give me two minutes to learn what’s going where while you make sure that everyone leaves the area. This is a large explosive, and if we mess up, it’s enough that both of us will die without taking everyone else with us.”
I looked at my watch—eleven minutes before the bomb went off. I jumped from the truck, and when I hit the ground, Avrum came running up, holding his rifle, a smug grin on his face.
“I saw that bastard draw his weapon, and I saw you give the signal. I shot him in the head, and Shoshana shot him in the chest. We made a good team!”
I was thankful to him, but I had no time to give praise now. I gave him a big thumbs-up and clapped him on the back as I rushed past. “Well done!” I said and ran toward the jeep where Alec and Shoshana were still hiding with Misha.
“We’ve got to evacuate the area!” I told Alec. “I’ve got to help Shimon, and we only have a fifty-fifty chance of stopping the explosion. It’s up to you and Shoshana to get everyone out of here immediately, including the Jewish Agency people!”
Alec turned and ran toward the Jewish Agency building, shouting, “Bomb! Bomb! Everyone out!”
Shoshana stood and grabbed both my hands. “I can’t leave Misha,” she said, looking up at me. Her face was ashen, and there were traces of tears on her face. “He’s barely hanging on.”
I glanced down at my friend. He was lying very still on the ground, his eyes closed. He had bled through the gauze beneath Shoshana’s hands, which were bright red. I checked his pulse, which felt faint. I thought about Leah, and I knew I couldn’t allow her brother to die too.
“I can help Alec,” Avrum said solemnly, all trace of his gleeful excitement now gone.
I looked at my watch. I had one minute left before I needed to go back to Shimon.
“No, help Shoshana,” I told Avrum. “Help her get Misha to Max’s house. Take the car you came in. Ask for Dr. Kaminitz, and tell him it’s an emergency. Alec will have to take care of alerting the rest of the people in the area.”
I glanced at my watch—it was time. “Shoshana …” I began, but I had no words. “Be safe,” I whispered, and then I ran back to Shimon.
He was still examining the wires, looking frustrated. When he saw me, he shook his head. “The sons of bitches did such a good job that it is a mission impossible to find out which wires we should disconnect. First, we have to disconnect the wires of the booby trap. I have two options to do it, but I have to decide which one is better, and when I say ‘which one is better,’ I mean that cutting the wrong wire will cause an explosion.”
He closed his eyes, either in order to concentrate or because of the pain. When he opened them, he pointed with his left hand at a green wire. “Let’s cut this green one, and to be on the safe side, let’s say a short prayer.”
I took the wire cutter out of my pocket and took a deep breath. I prayed and said, “Shma Israel!” Shimon closed his eyes again. I took a deep breath and cut the green wire.
Nothing.
Shimon opened his eyes and gave me a huge smile. I grinned back and looked at my watch. It was seven minutes before the explosives were due to go off. We were ready for the next step.
Shimon began examining the wires again. I didn’t say a word. He touched the wires coming out of the activated system, talking to himself and frowning. Apparently, he couldn’t come to any conclusions. I looked at my watch. Three minutes left.
With a sigh, I gave him the news. “Time to decide.”
Shimon looked up at me and then pointed to a white wire. “It is either this wire we must cut”—he shifted his hand and pointed to a blue wire—“or this one.”
“So, there’s no way to know for certain which is right?” My thoughts flew to Shoshana. At least she was safe.
He shook his head and then shrugged. “Maybe the blue wire is a better choice. I don’t know. And even with more time, I don’t think I could arrive at a better solution. David, cut the blue wire—but first say your Shma Israel.”
I looked at my watch. Two minutes. “Shma Israel!” I cried and cut the blue wire, closing my eyes as I did.
We didn’t blow up.
I opened my eyes and saw Shimon’s smiling face.
We both began laughing, and I grabbed him by the shoulders, making him cry out. “I’m sorry,” I said. “But we did it!” Shimon went suddenly still.
“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I just remembered that sometimes these things are double rigged. It might still blow.”
“You just remembered?” I cried. My watch showed one minute left. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
This time Shimon didn’t need my help getting out of the truck. His adrenalin must have been pumping through his veins as hard as mine. We ran to King George Street. When we arrived there, it was one minute past the time the truck was supposed to have exploded.
I threw my arms around my friend. “You saved us and prevented a disaster. You are a hero, my friend!”
“It figures I had to miss out on all of the hero stuff,” a familiar voice said from behind. I turned around to see Alec standing a few feet away.
“Alec!” I ran to his side. “Why did you stay? I told all of you to evacuate.”
“Well, if I had, who do you think would help you get rid of the truck and the dead British soldiers?” he asked with a grin.
“Good thinking,” I said, clapping him on the back. We had done it.
25
“AS THE HOUR THAT WE LONGED FOR IS SO NEAR”
(FROM “SONG OF THE PARTISANS” BY HIRSH GLICK, 1943)
Alec and I loaded the bodies of the British soldiers onto the truck. I instructed Alec to drive the vehicle full of explosives to Geula Street and to park it by the Schneller Barracks. Even after the truck was discovered, it would take some time for the Brits to figure out exactly what had happened. I asked Alec to come to Max’s apartment afterward.
By the time we finished, Shimon looked pale. I put Shimon in the car that he and Alec had come in and drove to Max’s apartment.
Nelka greeted me at the door with a hug.
“Thank God, you made it!” she exclaimed. “Come in!”
I helped Shimon over to the couch in the small living room. He groaned as he sat down heavily, cradling his arm to his chest.
“He’s been hurt?” Nelka asked anxiously.
“A flesh wound, but it seems to have done some damage to his hand,” I told her. “He needs to see the doctor.”
“Yes, of course.” Nelka clung to my arm, her eyes filled with worry. “Misha’s bleeding has stopped,” she said. “Max told me that Avrum and Shoshana saved your life.”
“Yes, I was lucky to have them with me,” I said. “Where is Misha?”
“Dr. Kaminitz is treating him now.” Nelka gestured to a closed door. “He ordered everyone out and said we weren’t to come in until he was done.”
“And where are Shoshana and Avrum?” I asked. I felt eager to put my arms around the woman I loved. There had been several moments at the agency when I thought I would never see her again.
“They went to work,” Nelka said with a laugh. “Thanks to all of these heroic people on his staff, Max is shorthanded! Shoshana said she was bursting with ene
rgy, and Avrum agreed.”
I sank down beside Shimon to wait. He was asleep, or unconscious. I wasn’t sure which. After fifteen more minutes, I was tapping one foot in nervous impatience. What if Misha didn’t make it? What if I had failed to protect Leah’s brother?
When the doctor finally opened the door, I jumped up and blocked his way. “How is he?” I asked. Dr. Kaminitz blinked at me and then smiled slightly.
“You aren’t the only one who seems to have a guardian angel,” Kaminitz replied. “This time it was a close call. His injuries are worse than yours were, but luckily no major organs were hit. The bullet passed through, and I was able to repair the internal damage and stop the bleeding. I think—I hope—that he’ll be fine.”
I sighed in relief. “Thank you,” I said, my voice hoarse. “May I see him?”
“It’s best to wait until tomorrow. He needs rest.”
“Very well,” I said reluctantly. “In the meantime, would you please take care of Shimon?” I gestured toward my friend. He was struck in his right arm and has lost the use of his hand.”
Dr. Kaminitz looked straight into my eyes for a long moment before speaking. “I see that you have all been very active today.” I remained silent. He sighed. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him. Did the bullet pass through his arm?”
“Shoshana said it did not,” I told him.
He nodded. “Probably pressing on a nerve. Well, I’ll get washed up. Nelka, can you assist?” The two helped Shimon into the other room, and I began to pace. I wanted to see Shoshana. I needed to see her.
At that moment, there came a knock at the door, and I froze. I cautiously opened it a few inches and then smiled in relief.
“Alec!” I pulled him inside and shut the door. “You’re just in time. Misha is doing better, and Dr. Kaminitz is looking at Shimon. Can you stay here until the doctor makes sure he’s all right? I need to go and see Shoshana.”
“I was just envying Shimon for taking a bullet,” he said with a wry smile, “thinking if I’d been shot, I could skip waiting tables for a while. I’ll stay. Just tell Max it was under your orders.”
I left Max’s apartment and went to the restaurant, impatient to see Shoshana. This time I forced myself to walk at a regular pace. I breathed deeply as I walked, trying to get my heart rate down to a normal level.
Avrum met me at the entrance of the restaurant, still gloating. “Did you see how I got him right between the eyes?” he said in a hushed voice. “I asked Shoshana to back me up and shoot him in the chest, and she did it. Our rookie came through like a pro.”
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Avrum, I owe you my life. If you weren’t such a crack shot, they’d be preparing my funeral.”
Shoshana was standing at the far end of the restaurant when she saw me. She ran across the room and hugged me tightly, then rested her head against my chest.
I bent my head and kissed her for a long, wonderful moment, then hugged her to me tightly. “You are really something, my guardian angel,” I whispered. “Who would have thought? I love you so much, Shoshana.”
THE NEXT DAY, I WENT to visit Misha.
On my way up the stairs to Max’s apartment, I bumped into Magda on her way down. “It’s good to see you, Magda,” I said, smiling at her. She didn’t smile back. She lifted her chin and gave me a cold look.
“Misha has been here for only a few months, and you put him in such a dangerous situation?” she demanded. “Misha is not going to fight anymore!”
There was no point in responding, so I simply said, “I hope Misha gets well soon.” She waved her hand dismissively and stomped down the steps.
I knocked on Max’s door, and Nelka opened it with a smile. She chatted briefly as she led me to the bedroom where Misha was recovering. He looked pale and tired. I sat down beside him. “I’ll get you both some tea,” Nelka said softly and closed the door behind her.
“Thank you for your help,” I said. “I want you to know that I won’t be asking you to do this again. Your sister died by my side. I won’t put your life at risk again.”
A hint of a smile appeared on his face. “Did you speak to Magda just now?” he asked. “How many times did we almost get killed as partisans? We’re fighters, and as long as I can help, I’ll fight alongside you.”
I kissed him on his forehead. “You’re a good man, and I love you,” I said. It occurred to me that I was becoming rather sentimental, going around kissing men on their foreheads. What would Brigita have made of that?
Remembering how all the visits had worn me out when I’d been recovering from my wounds, I didn’t stay long at Misha’s side. When I got home, Shoshana was waiting for me, and I kissed her on the forehead too and then on the lips.
“You did well yesterday, my love,” I said.
“I had a good teacher.” She smiled. “Two good teachers.”
SHIMON ARRIVED AT THE RESTAURANT a day later with his arm in a sling and told Max that Zvi wanted to see me.
“How is your hand?” I asked. “Can you move it yet?”
“Only a little,” he said. “The doctor told me I likely have some nerve damage, but it will hopefully heal over time.”
I nodded and got into the car. On the way, I was lost in my own thoughts over what had taken place in the last few days. Shimon was a good friend and a good fighter. I was glad that he hadn’t suffered a worse injury, like Misha. And Misha—I was so thankful he was going to be all right.
At the house in Talpiot, Zvi greeted me with a warm handshake and invited me in.
“You and your friends prevented a horrible disaster,” he said, gesturing for me to take a chair at his table. As I took my seat, Zvi moved to a sideboard, where a bottle of wine and two glasses sat. He poured the glasses both half full and handed me one before continuing. I took a sip. It was excellent.
“You thought of everything,” he went on. “You had a backup plan in the event of any mishaps, and you improvised and showed initiative during the operation itself. I don’t know anyone who could have done a better job. You weren’t spared a bullet from Stanley’s gun merely by chance. You made sure in advance that Avrum and Shoshana would be in place in case of trouble—and trouble there was.”
“Thank you, Zvi,” I said. “But the success wasn’t mine alone. We did it as a team.”
“An excellent team! The British, the Jews, and the Arabs are all trying to figure out who foiled Stanley’s plans, but no one has a clue,” Zvi continued. “The Jewish Agency checked with all the underground organizations, even ours. But we’ve survived this long through absolute secrecy, and I have no intention of changing that now—certainly not before we have an independent Jewish state. And that day isn’t far off!”
“Do you know something the others don’t?” I asked. Zvi was privy to all sorts of information. Had he heard something?
“Not at all,” Zvi said. “But this is the consensus these days, from the Jewish Agency and the Haganah to the Irgun and the Lehi. The fate of the British Mandate is now in the hands of the United Nations, and there’s a real chance the member states will divide the Land of Israel between the Jews and the Arabs. The Arabs will attack us with all their might—not just the Arabs living in the Land of Israel but also the armies of the surrounding Arab states. Abd al-Qader al-Husseini is gathering thousands of armed fighters while also funding anti-Semitic mercenaries like Stanley.”
“And what will the Wolves do?” I asked.
“Up until now, our main task has been to wear down the British and convince them to withdraw from the country. But we will soon be faced with a new task—to battle against the Arab enemy.” Zvi took a long draught from his glass and set it down heavily. “The Irgun and Lehi don’t share my assessment of the situation, and I expect they’ll continue to strike at the British over the coming months. They don’t need our help, so for now at least, we won’t carry out any more operations against the British.”
“I intend to take a break myself,” I said.
&nb
sp; He smiled. “Good, get some rest. Because you, David, will make a talented and distinguished commander in the regular army we will create at the end of the British Mandate, which will be formed by the Haganah. I’ll pull a few strings and get you into a Haganah officers’ course.”
The thought of being in a unified army sent a rush of anticipation through me. “That sounds exciting, Zvi,” I said.
“Are you satisfied with your work as a waiter?” he asked.
I blinked, a little surprised by the abrupt change in topic. “It certainly isn’t very challenging,” I replied. “I don’t love waiting on people, but I’ve worked at Café Pinsk almost since I first came to Israel, and the place has been like a home to me.”
He nodded. “Ah, yes, what we all have longed for.”
I leaned back in the chair and took another sip of wine. How different my life—and the lives of my friends—might have been if the British had allowed Israel to become an independent state right after the war with Germany. Reflecting on the arc of my life and how it had led to my current situation, I went on to tell Zvi more than he’d probably expected to hear in response to his simple question.
“I was a schoolboy when the Germans invaded Belarus,” I said, “and the war denied me the opportunity for an education. I had no time to think about my future. I wasn’t sure I had a future. For the past six years, almost every single thought has been devoted to planning the elimination of my enemies in the most efficient way.”
“Tell me, David,” Zvi interjected. “Did killing your enemies in Israel give you a sense of personal satisfaction?”
I paused, thinking about his question for a long moment. Finally I answered, “Certainly not. Although it did please me to know that the people of Israel were rid of some enemies thanks to me and the people who fought at my side.” I took a drink of the wine, and Zvi nodded.
“Go on,” he said. “So you felt no personal satisfaction?” He arched one brow, as if in disbelief.
