Sèvres Protocol

by David Lee Corley

“Apparently.”

  “And you believed them?”

  “They were very apologetic.”

  “Get out of my office.”

  Lloyd was only too happy to leave.

  October 26, 1956 – Mediterranean Sea

  Three squadrons of French aircraft flew over the Mediterranean Sea toward Israel. All the aircraft were marked with the black and yellow stripes that was to designate allied aircraft during the upcoming invasion. The first squadron was composed of French-built Dassault Mystère IVA jet fighters tasked with preventing air raids on Israeli cities. The second, equipped with American-built Republic F-84F Thunderstreaks, would provide ground support for Israeli, British and French forces once France entered the war. The third squadron was made up of French-built, twin-boom Nord Aviation Noratlas transports that would be used to parachute additional jeeps and other supplies to Israeli and French troops.

  In addition to the aircraft, the French also sent three destroyers to protect the Israeli ports of Tel Aviv and Haifa from the Egyptian Navy or any other country that might enter the war against the allies. Discretion was essential. The French could not be seen to be helping the Israelis before they entered the war. Each aircraft and naval vessel had a plausible excuse for visiting Israel, such as refueling and resupply, repair, or training.

  Last minute weapons and munitions shipments arrived by commercial freighter or were flown into the Israeli ports and airfields. The Israelis had never had so many new weapons and vehicles. Maintenance crews worked day and night to learn the procedures required to sustain the military’s equipment in the field.

  The buildup of new weapons and supplies put a strain on Israeli logistics. Jeeps, tanks and troop trucks had to be driven and shipped by rail to the various brigades stationed around the country. There wasn’t enough time to transport everything that was delivered and needed. Some vehicles and supplies had to catch up with their designated units after they had already been deployed. Maintenance in the field was a logistical nightmare and spare parts for vehicles and weapons became a critical hindrance. The Israeli were known for their fighting abilities but they were always challenged by the logistics of keeping their armies adequately supplied in the field.

  October 26, 1956 – Jerusalem, Israel

  Harel knocked on Dayan’s open office door. Dayan sat at his desk reviewing plans for the invasion.

  “Do you have a few moments?” said Harel.

  “Of course,” said Dayan looking up from his paperwork.

  “I’ve been thinking…” said Harel.

  “Why does that worry me?” said Dayan.

  “Not this time. We may have an opportunity.”

  “Go on.”

  “Are you aware that Field Marshal Amer and the Egyptian General Staff are in Syria to review plans for a potential invasion of Israel?”

  “I read your intelligence report. That is not unusual.”

  “I agree. You are planning a general call up of our reserves before the invasion I assume?”

  “Of course.”

  “What will Nasser do once he realizes that you are calling up our reserves?”

  “He will call up his own.”

  “And who will he ask to do that?”

  “The Field Marshal and his staff, of course.”

  “He will need to fly home, yes?”

  “Yes,” said Dayan trying to figure what Harel was driving at. And then it hit him… “On the eve of battle, we know when the Field Marshal of the Egyptian army will be returning to Cairo.”

  “Exactly,” said Harel with a knowing smile.

  “I want to kiss you,” said Dayan.

  “Please don’t,” said Harel.

  October 26, 1956 – Israel

  Over one hundred thousand Israeli reservists left their families and their jobs to report to their respective unit commanders. Public buses were commandeered by the army to convey the reservists to their units. A large number of the reservists were transported to the Jordanian border in hopes of convincing the Egyptians that it was Jordan not Egypt that would receive the brunt of Israel’s anger.

  October 27, 1956 – Northern Syria

  Field Marshal Abdel Hakim Amer and his staff were going over the plans of a proposed invasion of Israel with his Syrian counterpart and his staff, when Amer received a panicked call from Nasser ordering him back to Cairo immediately. After hanging up the phone, Amer turned to the Syrian General and said, “I’m sorry. The Israelis have sneezed and Nasser is convinced he has caught their cold once again. We must go.”

  “We understand,” said the Syrian general. “It’s too bad. We were so close to finishing. It would have saved you a trip back.”

  “Yes,” said Amer considering, then turning to his chief Executive Officer. “Take the plane back with the rest of the staff. When you arrive, call up the reserves and prepare a status report on the current disposition of our troops.”

  “And if the president asks of your whereabouts?” said the Executive Officer.

  “Tell him I was out inspecting the Syrian lines on the Israeli border and that I sent you back early so as not to waste any time carrying out his wishes. It will take me a few more hours to return.”

  “If we take the plane, how will you get back?”

  “I’m sure the Syrian Air Force can accommodate me.”

  “Yes, Field Marshal,” said the Executive Officer snapping to attention and saluting.

  October 28th, 1956 – Mediterranean Sea

  It was early morning when a lone Israeli pilot flew over the Mediterranean. He was flying a Gloster Meteor NF-13. The Meteor was a first-generation British jet invented at the end of World War II and looked like Germany’s Messerschmitt Me 262. It was well equipped to take on any prop-driven aircraft. Its wings were conventional straight wings while the newer NATO and Soviet jets used more aerodynamic swept-back wings.

  The pilot was flying a long shot mission code named Operation Tarnegol. It was not unlike finding a needle in a haystack. He was told his target was an Egyptian Air Force Ilyushin Il-14, a Soviet-built twin engine cargo plane knick-named “Crate” by NATO. He was given the approximate route and flight schedule. He was to fly high using clouds as cover so as not to spook the intended target. It was a simple plan. Fly around in circles and hope the enemy aircraft shows up. After almost an hour and a half, he saw a cargo plane flying at five thousand feet appear from a cloud bank. He flew down to take a closer look.

  The pilot and co-pilot in the Ilyushin cockpit did not see the Israeli jet as they passed below it. They knew they carried a valuable cargo of the Egyptian General Staff, but they were not expecting any trouble. The Egyptians and Israelis were at peace and they were flying over international waters. There was no reason for alarm.

  The Meteor swept down behind the Ilyushin. The Israeli took his time lining up the plane’s fuselage in his gunsights. His orders were to strafe the fuselage first in hopes of killing the Field Marshal then go after the aircraft’s engines. The pilot squeezed the trigger and fired the aircraft’s four 20-mm British Hispano MkV cannons mounted in its forward fuselage, just in front of the cockpit.

  The burst of 20-mm shells ripped hundreds of holes into the Ilyushin’s fuselage killing the entire Egyptian General Staff, three journalists and two crew members.

  The Israeli pilot retargeted the engines one at a time and destroyed them. The burning plane crashed into the sea. There were no survivors. The Israeli pilot turned his aircraft toward shore and began thinking of what his wife was making for breakfast.

  October 28th, 1956 – Jerusalem, Israel

  Ben-Gurion and Dayan finished a dinner meeting during which they went over the final details of the operation. As Dayan prepared to depart, Ben-Gurion studied his countenance and said, “You seem worried, Moshe. That’s not like you. You are usually so confident on the eve of battle.”

  “It’s not the battle that concerns me,” said Dayan. “It’s the Americans. We have deceived them. Eisenhower is not a good friend
to Israel but he is not an enemy either. I would hate to see that change.”

  “I doubt Eisenhower will do more than make a lot of noise. He hates war and he is facing a tough election. He cannot afford to lose the Jewish vote.”

  “Yes, but he is also a man of principle.”

  “Then he shall see our cause is just. Do not worry about the politics, Moshe. You have enough to worry about. Fight your battles well and let God handle the rest.”

  October 29, 1956 – Southern Israel

  Brigitte rode a jeep into the camp bivouacking the 202nd Parachute Brigade just outside the port city of Eilat on the northern end of the Gulf of Aqaba. She thanked the driver and pulled her rucksack from the back of the jeep.

  She saw Sharon talking with a group of officers. She had studied photos of him when he had fought in the Arab-Israeli War in 1948. He had gained weight along with greying hair. She approached and waited until he was finished before introducing herself, “Colonel Sharon, I am Brigitte Friang.”

  “I know who you are and what you will be… a pain in my backside,” said Sharon.

  “I assure you I will not.”

  “We shall see. You will be traveling with me in my jeep. I want to keep a close eye on you. Don’t expect much sleep. We will be moving fast.”

  “We are not jumping?”

  “No. If you’d like I can have you transferred to Major Eitan’s 890th Para Battalion. They will be jumping.”

  “No. I would prefer to stay with you. I hear you are a man of action.”

  “Do not flatter me, Miss Friang. I do not have the time.”

  “Please call me Brigitte.”

  “Fine. Brigitte, get some sleep. You’re going to need it. We move out at 0150,” said Sharon moving off. “And don’t forget to pee. We don’t stop for potty-breaks.”

  October 29, 1956 – Sinai, Egypt

  It was just past noon. The Sinai was still and desolate. The ground was hard, the clay soil baked by the sun and lack of water. It was a hard life for those that lived here. Few did. Most chose to live in the mountains where there were springs and some vegetation for their goats. But even in the mountains, little grew. Rocks of all sizes and shapes covered most of the land. It was a farmer’s nightmare.

  Telephone poles broke the barren landscape. Their wires hummed in the wind. The harmony was broken by the thrum of aircraft engines approaching from the northeast. A group of four P-51 Mustangs appeared over the horizon. They had a blue Star of David against a white circle painted on their wings and mid-fuselage. The P-51 World War II fighter was tough and dependable but could not compete with the new jets in air-to-air combat. It still had a role to play in air-to-ground support. There were still some missions better suited for slower aircraft. The formation broke, and the individual fighters peeled off in different directions.

  One of the aircraft swooped down close to the desert floor. The pilot kept his speed as he flew directly toward the line of telephone poles spread out across the desert. At the last moment, he twisted his aircraft sideways pulling up slightly so the end of his left wing did not plow into the ground. The wing hit the telephone wires stretched between two poles and snapped them in two. The ends of the wires fell to the earth.

  Communications were cut, severely crippling the Egyptian army’s command and control, leaving the thirty thousand troops in the Egyptian 3rd Infantry and 8th Palestinian Divisions completely in the dark and without instructions. The pilot flew on, keeping low to the ground and away from any villages where he might be spotted. There were more telephone wires to be cut deep in the Sinai.

  October 29, 1956 – Central Sinai

  Late in the afternoon, sixteen Douglas C-47 Dakotas – escorted by Meteors, Ouragans, and Mystère fighter jets – carried the Israeli 890th Paratrooper Battalion across the Israeli border into Egypt. They flew one hundred and thirty miles behind enemy lines to the eastern side of the Mitla Pass just thirty miles east of the Suez Canal. It was the threat of hostilities so close to the vital shipping lanes that would give the British and French a pretext to intervene.

  Major Rafael Eitan jumped with the first group of paratroopers and landed safely. He designated a rally point and ensured that any wounded were attended to by his medics. Two of his paratroopers had broken their legs. That kind of loss was to be expected with a jump this size. He would arrange for their evacuation as soon as possible but at the moment he needed to gather his men back into a fighting unit with defensive positions.

  The ground before the pass was flat and ideal for landing paratroopers. It was not ideal for defending the lightly armored paratroopers and offered no cover. It was not a hard jump in the sense that he could see all of his men and where they were landing. But so can the Egyptians, he thought as he looked toward the mountain pass three miles in the distance. They could already be waiting.

  His mission was simple. Hold the mouth of the pass until Sharon arrived with the rest of the brigade. He didn’t like the plan and thought his battalion should at the very least move into the mountains where there was good cover. He had three hundred and ninety-four men mostly armed with Uzi submachine guns and a few light machine guns. They would be of little use against the Egyptian jets and tanks. In folds of the mountain they would stand a chance. They could hide. But those were not his orders and he obeyed orders.

  He and his men moved up to within a mile of the mouth of the canyon. They used their portable shovels to dig foxholes and trenches. It was hard work in the desert heat. The first few inches of soil were clay baked hard by the sun. After that it got a little easier. There was no natural cover, so the holes had to be deep. He and his men knew what was coming. It was going to be a hard fight. He sent out reconnaissance units in all directions. He wanted to know what was coming before it arrived. He needed time to prepare.

  After sunset, transport aircraft parachuted eight jeeps, four 116-mm recoilless guns, two 120-mm mortars, extra ammunition and food to Eitan and his men.

  October 29, 1956 – Algiers, Algeria

  Coyle walked into the reception area of the transportation wing commander’s office. “You may go right in, Monsieur Coyle. The Colonel is expecting you,” said the receptionist.

  Coyle entered the office to find Colonel Rodolphe Cerf sitting behind his desk. “Monsieur Coyle, please have a seat,” said Cerf.

  “Why the urgency? I was scheduled to fly this morning,” said Coyle as he sat across from the Cerf.

  “Yes, well…I am afraid I have some bad news. We have decided to terminate your contract, effective immediately.”

  “What? Why? Did I do something wrong?”

  “On the contrary, you are an excellent pilot.”

  “Then why the cold shoulder?”

  “Cold shoulder?”

  “Why are you firing me?”

  “Ah. Political necessity has required the French Air Force to loan out your C-119 for a short amount of time. We will not need your services until it is returned.”

  “Okay. A little notice would have been nice.”

  “I just found out myself an hour ago. The good news is that the Spanish transportation company that will be borrowing the C-119 would like to hire you as the pilot.”

  “And my crew?”

  “Unfortunately, they are French and cannot be allowed to go with you. The Spanish will be supplying you with a new crew. I have been assured they are familiar with the operation of twin-engine, heavy-lift aircraft. The Spanish will ask you to deliver two jeeps and a shipment of spare vehicle parts by parachute to an undisclosed location in the Sinai desert.”

  “The Sinai?”

  “Yes. There is an Israeli military convoy in badly need of the replacement jeeps and spare parts to repair their vehicles. Vehicles sold them by the French government. France, of course, cannot be seen to help the Israelis since they have invaded Egypt. We are selling the parts to a company in Spain. What the Spanish company chooses to do with the parts once in their possession is completely up to them.”

 
; “A political switch-a-roo.”

  “Switch-a-roo?”

  “A shell game.”

  “Shell game?”

  “Never mind. Please go on.”

  “When you have completed your mission with the Spaniards and your plane is returned, we would like to rehire you with an appropriate signing bonus, of course.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “Why would you refuse?”

  “Because I don’t like being played the fool.”

  “I see,” said Cerf. “Perhaps you would see the mission in a better light if you knew that Brigitte Friang is with the Israeli convoy.”

  “Brigitte is in the Sinai?” said Coyle.

  “From what I have been told… yes.”

  Coyle took a moment to consider and said, “Alright, Colonel. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  October 29, 1956 – Southern Israel.

  Sharon’s jeep was at the head of a mixed column of jeeps, trucks, half-tracks, armored cars and French-made MX-13 light tanks. The trucks were pulling artillery guns. Brigitte sat in the backseat of the jeep trying to get comfortable. Sharon’s radio operator sat across from her. There was little room because of the two extra tires, jugs of water, four rucksacks and multiple radios. She finally decided to sit on her own rucksack which gave a little more room at her feet. She wore her khaki jumpsuit, a floppy-brimmed bush hat buttoned on one side the way the Australians like to wear them, and a pair of sunglasses. She thought about putting on some suntan lotion but knew it would just cake up from the dust once the jeep started moving. She elected to burn.

  A squadron of twenty-two P-51 Mustangs flew overhead and out into the desert mountains. Their mission was to strafe and bomb anything and anyone in the path of the convoy.