by Noah Beck
“A few friends is all you need,” Ambesah said; his large and gentle brown eyes seemed to sparkle with optimism, like those of a child endlessly interested in the world around him. One of the handful of religious submariners, he wore a knit skullcap and had a well-trimmed beard.
“You’re lucky to have more than a few on the submarine.”
“Well, the submarine is very different from a schoolyard. We’re all brothers by circumstance. There’s no race or ethnicity on a submarine – only grown men with individual strengths and weaknesses. And that’s all that counts on a ship where we all sink or swim together. One day all of Israeli society will be like the submarine.”
“I work for that day every day,” Yardena said, smiling at how nicely her daughter Tikva was playing with the captain’s daughter, Esty. They were taking turns playing with the starfish and the Pekingese puppy. Tikva wasn’t old enough to know how unlikely her own existence was, given what her parents had endured.
Ambesah was born in 1980, in a tiny village that was part of the minuscule and isolated Ethiopian Jewish community that traced its roots back millennia, to the Biblical Queen of Sheba. Cut off from the rest of world Jewry, the members of the tight-knit group thought that they might be the last Jews left in the world. The 1974 revolution that brought Communists to power in Ethiopia would also make it illegal to practice Judaism there. But Ambesah’s family had heard rumors of a modern Jewish state that would welcome immigrant Jews. So, in 1984 they joined forces with several other families to cross the desert on foot to Israel. They walked barefoot for 400 miles, hiding in caves along the way. Five of Ambesah’s 11 siblings died during the arduous journey. The surviving family members made it to a Sudanese refugee camp, where they were eventually rescued by Israeli paratroopers who escorted them onto the airlift that would bring them to Israel. Thus, Ambesah was a born survivor: In just 15 years, he would go from a toddler running around barefoot in a village without electricity or running water, to a submarine officer who had mastered over 4,000 switches and valves on the most powerful machine in the Israeli military.
Yardena was just two years old when her family came to Israel in the same 1984 Operation Moses that brought her future husband, after her family undertook the same journey out of Ethiopia. She would go on to serve with distinction in the intelligence unit of the Israel Defense Forces or “IDF,” before becoming a print journalist in one of Israel’s leading daily newspapers, where she led investigations exposing incidents of racism and other scandals. Her work was credited with helping to raise public awareness and catalyzing legislative reforms and protections for Israel’s racial minorities. She was also one of the founding members of Israel’s first Amharic-language paper for the Ethiopian community.
Their youngest daughter, Tikva, whose name means “hope,” was happily oblivious to her parents’ history. With a similar simplicity, they were content just to watch her enjoying her childhood. Their daughter ran around laughing with Esty, who gripped the starfish in her hand, as they both chased after the Pekingese puppy that was running around in circles and barking intermittently, as if to announce to the rest of the world that they were all playing a very important game.
“Of course, we don’t all get along perfectly – it’s not so easy with so many guys sharing such a small space. But there’s always enough respect among individuals for the mission to succeed. And the good humor helps.”
“Is Yisrael still your most trusted friend on the crew?”
“I couldn’t have come this far in my naval career without him. He adopted me like a brother, stood up for me, and encouraged me along the way.”
“And he’s going to be captain soon, right? That could be very good for your advancement.”
“Yisrael will almost certainly take over the submarine. Daniel has to retire first, and no one knows exactly when he’ll do that. But probably soon, because he’s served for so long. He’s a very dedicated commander and a great leader…Anyway, enough about me and the crew...Back to Adi – is she at least communicating better with my father?”
“No. He speaks to her in Amharic and she answers in Hebrew, and it’s as if we have the Tower of Babel unless I’m there to translate. It’s really sad. We have to make more of an effort to make her speak Amharic. And we should do it with Tikva too.”
“We always say that. And then we always realize that it’s easier said than done.”
“Especially since you’re hardly around to help enforce that rule.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I wish it were different,” he said, sensing the need to change the subject. “How are things at the newspaper?”
“Everyone’s talking about Iran and the Prime Minister’s health. I don’t cover either of those areas, but my friends do, so I hear things.”
“Like what?”
“Military officials aren’t talking about it but there are worries that Iran will come out with yet another surprise announcement any minute. Apparently it’s something very disturbing.”
“Great – just what I was hoping to hear on my brief shore break,” Ambesah joked. “And what about the Prime Minister?”
“That’s where there’s the most speculation. Nobody seems to know what actually happened to him or when he’s expected to return to his duties.”
“Maybe the doctors themselves still don’t know.”
“I think it’s more of a cover-up. The public doesn’t have as much faith in the Deputy Prime Minister. So I think everyone at the top is just hoping that they can soon announce a full recovery, to avoid a public loss of confidence. But after eight days in the hospital with no detailed updates about his health, I think their strategy may be backfiring.”
“You’re right. It does start to seem like a cover-up after so much time…Speaking of people’s health, how’s my father doing?”
“He hasn’t gotten better, unfortunately. We missed you at his seventy-third birthday…We’re trying to change his diet, so maybe that will –”
“Hey Sanbeto!” Ambesah’s face lit up as he saw his younger brother walk up to them. The two siblings reunited in a tight hug. “Thanks for coming – it’s great to see you!”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything. Sorry the rest of the family couldn’t make it.”
“I wasn’t expecting anyone else, so this is a wonderful surprise…What’s new with you?”
“New? Let’s see – I got a new job!”
“Really? That’s great! Where? Doing what?”
“Same thing as before – database software architect. But at a bigger high-tech company that pays more.”
“That’s fantastic!”
“Yeah. I’m pretty excited about it. The people there are all really nice. And they’re at a very high technical level, so that’ll help my programming skills too.”
“That’s great news…But what about the important stuff?” Ambesah asked ironically.
“And what would that be?” his brother responded with a grin.
“Do you have a girlfriend yet?”
“I tried to set him up with my younger sister’s friend,” Yardena began, “but he’s still obsessed with trying to date a non-Ethiopian Israeli,” she said, in a slightly teasing tone.
“I’m not obsessed. Just curious. I mean, why does everyone expect me to date an Ethiopian just because I’m Ethiopian?”
“Who’s everyone?” Ambesah asked. “You mean society? Or our family?”
“Both.”
“Well, maybe it’s just easier. The path of least resistance, you know?”
“It’s definitely easier, but easier isn’t always better.”
“You do have a point,” Yardena said. “And I was just playing with you, of course. There’s no reason for anyone to discourage you from mixed dating.”
“Actually, I think it’d be easier to convince our family to get over it than to convince a non-Ethiopian Israeli girl to date me.”
“Don’t give up,” Yardena said. “Let me ask around my office to see if there are
any non-Ethiopian dates that we can set you up on.”
“When you put it like that, I’m the one who sounds racist!” Sanbeto exclaimed, to their laughter.
Chapter 5: Yisrael
As Ambesah and his group were laughing, Yisrael Dayan stood nearby talking to his wife, Netta, and the tone of their conversation could not have sounded more different. Netta had accumulated nothing but bad news for the deputy captain during the last ten days that he had been away on the submarine exercise.
He looked away, clenching his jaw as he tried to contain his emotions. The sun reflected off Yisrael’s bald shaven head. Below his large forehead, a pair of intellectual-looking, circular-framed spectacles seemed to accentuate his intense, blue-grey eyes.
“At least he was surrounded by his loved ones,” Netta said.
“Was he in pain?”
“The doctors did their best to minimize it. And there was a beautiful tribute to his incredible life during the shiva that you missed.”
Yisrael stood solemnly for a moment unable fully to grasp the news of his grandfather’s passing. He tried to articulate something but his mouth felt dry and inept.
“On the night before he died in his hospital bed I told him that you would soon be captain of the submarine and his face lit up with so much pride.”
Yisrael finally burst into tears, as Netta held him.
“Of all of the things I’ve missed in my 37 years of life, this one hurts the most…He was such a special human being…”
“I know…Sometimes it seems as if people like that aren’t made any more…He lived such a full and extraordinary life, and meant so much to so many people…He asked me to transcribe his diary for you…It’s quite a lot. He was a beautiful and prolific writer...”
“And he had so much to write about…He did in 95 years what most people would need two hundred years to do.”
“I know…I still have a long way to go before finishing, but I brought you a printout of his earlier years – his childhood in Poland, his time fighting in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, and being one of the few to survive it, up through the time that he helped to found the State of Israel.”
Netta handed Yisrael a bound printout of about 100 single-spaced pages.
“Thank you!” The left-handed deputy captain briefly flipped through the pages, in awe of the history and personal significance of what he held. “This means so much to me – just to have something of his spirit on the submarine with me, keeping me company on our next mission. I will read and treasure every word.”
“His spirit will be with you. Always. And I know you’ll make him proud.”
“I will always try. Which is why I’ll probably always regret that I didn’t give him the one thing that he wanted most from me while he was still alive.”
“Well, it’s not for lack of trying…Some things are just beyond our control.”
“We definitely tried,” Yisrael added, in slight resignation. “Did my test results come in yet?”
“I prefer that we not talk about it now. Especially after your grandfather’s passing – and when you’re about to leave again for who knows how many weeks…Why don’t we wait until you’re back?”
“No, I need to know.”
“No, you don’t…What difference can it possibly make when I’m not even going to see you for the coming weeks?”
“It can’t be good news, if you insist on avoiding it.”
“Please, Yisrael,” she pleaded. “Let’s drop it for now, OK?”
Yisrael looked away, frustrated and assuming the worst. Netta needed to change the subject fast.
“Actually, there’s something I wanted to tell you – in connection with your promotion.”
“What is it?”
“I think you should stop going to those left-wing demonstrations when you’re at home and off-duty.”
“Why?”
“Last week there was a news story about a protester who attended a demonstration and spoke with the news cameras about his political views. During the interview he revealed that he was currently serving in an elite army unit and he was later suspended.”
“Well, that guy was just stupid. I would never publicly reveal that I’m in the submarine corps – whether or not I’m demonstrating.”
“But you’re taking a risk. Someone who happens to know that you’re a submariner could be at the same demonstration, or even see you on a news report, and then say something to someone else, and then the word gets out.”
“That’s a very small risk. I wear sunglasses and avoid talking to anyone at protests. And I usually bring a political message on a placard that I hold up in a way that hides my face.”
“But what’s the point of protesting if you have to hide yourself while doing it?”
“Because just being there with the group contributes to the strength of their movement, and I have to be true to my core beliefs and work for the change I want to effect. The occupation oppresses the Palestinians and it corrupts the souls of the Israeli soldiers who must rule over them by force.”
“You usually talk about how it threatens to destroy the Jewish state demographically.”
“That’s the main policy reason that I’m opposed to the occupation. But there are plenty of moral reasons to protest it as well. I want the Palestinians to have a good life within their own state, living peacefully next to our state.”
“So do a lot of people. But they don’t all go out and protest. Is it more important to you than your naval career?”
“I can balance the two.”
“Why risk it when you’re so close to becoming captain? Just wait until you retire from the Navy. Then you can become a full-time political activist and protest whenever and however you want.”
“Moral convictions don’t wait for convenient timing. And they mean nothing if you’re not prepared to sacrifice your personal interests when defending them.”
Chapter 6: A Promotion for Esty
The wailing sound of a child’s cry rang through the area, followed by a steady, rhythmic repetition of sobbing. It was Esty, bawling by the water’s edge. Tikva appeared to be restraining her from getting closer to the water.
Within moments, Ambesah and Yardena were moving towards their daughter, calling out to her. “Tikva, what’s going on? Let her go!” Tikva looked alarmed and – realizing that she might be in trouble – was herself on the verge of tears as she released Esty. Moments later, Ambesah took hold of her and Yardena tried to see if Esty was OK.
Seconds after that, Daniel and Sivan, who had been standing farther away, were running over to the scene where their daughter was crying. Yardena crouched down and tried in vain to pacify Esty while Ambesah tried to get the full story from his daughter.
“What happened, Tikva?” Ambesah was hoping for a good answer as the most powerful man on his submarine approached the area with his wife. “Why is Esty crying so much? Why were you holding her like that?”
“Because…Because she wanted to go into the water, and I thought she might fall in.”
Sanbeto, who had also approached the chaotic scene, saw that his brother’s Pekingese puppy was now unsupervised, so he ran after the scampering dog and scooped it up.
“What do you mean she wanted to go in the water?” Ambesah asked. The pressure of having to justify herself by that point had become too much to bear and Tikva began to cry.
Esty was still trying to move toward the edge of the water, but Yardena was blocking her path, making Esty cry more. “No sweetie, it’s dangerous to get so close.”
As Sivan arrived on the scene moments later, she acknowledged Yardena’s supervision with a polite smile and took over. Sivan put her arms around her daughter and held her gently, caressing her hair. “What’s wrong, baby? Why are you trying to go into the water?” Daniel crouched down next to her as well.
“Are you OK, my little angel?” he asked.
“I want to get my starfish in the water…She dropped my starfish in the water,” she cried,
pointing an accusing finger at Tikva. “And then she grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean to drop the starfish in the water,” Daniel said, with a sympathetic tone. “Right?” he said, turning toward Tikva and Ambesah.
“Well? What happened, Tikva?” her father asked.
“She let me hold it, and then I was running after the dog and it…It slipped out of my hand and then…And then it rolled over the edge, into the water…I didn’t mean for it to happen…” She choked up into tears again but worked through the rest of her explanation…“And then Esty tried to get it…And she was getting really close to the water…So I stopped her…”
By now, even Yisrael and his wife had come by to see what the commotion was all about. They listened in and watched from a respectful distance.
“Well, you did a very good thing, Tikva. You used excellent judgment for a girl your age,” Daniel said. “Thank you for not letting Esty get any closer to the water.”
Ambesah wiped away his daughter’s tears, and said, “You did great, Tikva. I’m proud of you.”
Esty had calmed down but was still whimpering. “My starfish is gone…and now, and now I don’t have it to protect me…And I liked it so much for drawing stars…”
“That’s OK, baby,” said Sivan, holding Esty while stroking her hair. “I’m sure Daddy can find you another starfish when he comes back from his next mission.”
“But what will protect me when he goes away now?”
“You know what?” Daniel drew closer to his little girl. “I’m going to give you something that will protect you even more than that starfish did.”
“Really? Like what?” Esty puzzled over what it could be, as she wiped away her tears. “Is it the daddy of the starfish?”
“Even better.”
“What is it?”
Everyone who happened to be listening – including Yisrael and Ambesah – waited intently for the answer. Daniel moved a little closer to his daughter and then removed from his naval uniform one of the shoulder boards with two gold clusters displaying his military rank. He put it in his daughter’s hand saying, “This is Daddy’s rank. This proves that he’s the captain. And now it’s yours. To remind you that Daddy’s always there, watching over you.”
