It
is probably the time to tell of a chapter in my life, probably shared by others, but under the secret underground conditions, no one could share his with others. During the Second World War, the adults, over l8, were enlisted into Jewish units in the British Army. It was then that our “old man” made his famous declaration: “we have to fight Hitler, as if there is no White Paper, and fight “the white Paper” as if there is no Hitler. It necessitated a duty division. The adults were enlisted to serve the purpose, seventy seven times more important for any Jew. The news of what happened to most of the Jews of Europe had reached us by then.
My friends and I, too young to be enlisted into the British Army, got special defense duties around the Jewish villages in Palestine, to guard against the Arab gangs that were sporadically attacking the villages since l936. But in the history of the Jewish People, there hardly ever was a time of fighting and
defence, that was free from inner division, difference of opinions, and separate units, which caused, in the past, destruction and exile. I was very impressed by the history of Josephus Flavius of the wars of the Jews, which brought to the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple, and the exile of most of our people. The Sharon valley was inhabitted by two different social elements. Half were settlers from western Europe, who brought with them discipline and order, the other half comprised of people who came from eastern Europe, merchants, farmers, socialists who established youth movements, like “Hashomer Hatzair”. All accepted the unrefuted leadership of the Jewish establishment in Jerusalem, like The Jewish Agency, “The Council of Delegates” and “the National Committee” – for them this served as the State in making, and there was no doubt to the leadership. But there were other settlers there, from historical “Beytar”, and parts of the Youth Movements of the
Bourgoisie. The area, then, was ripe for the activities of the other undergrounds – The Etzel” and “The Lechi”, who were organized in small units, with their own commanders and their own weapon storage.
When I was 16, I was sent to my first military course of The Hagana –
The regional section commanders course. After three months of lab Laborious training, I was sent back to my village, as a graduate section
Commander (memkaf). Qualified to train others in use of arms, field
arts, to command and lead to battle 10 men. It is hard to describe the
Emotions that throbbed in my heart, when on my first Saturday, I got
to the secret field, and see the notice in the commanders hut, that he is to
train 20 girls in field arts, the use of revolvers and hand granades.
Most of the girls were almost my age, and all were neighbours or good
friends of my cousin Yaffa, so I could see myself the butt of gossip and
giggles, blushes, and all that is normal between the sexes at that age.
Nowadays it seems ridiculous that it was a problem, but then, I was
permanently embarrassed, and didn’t know how to manage 20 girls,
when even the slightest touch, brought about waves of giggles and whispers. In addition I had to train them Indian crawling, which
necessitated some touching. The section commander (I) told the trainees
(the girls) that this chapter is deferred to the following week, and they
should appear wearing long trousers tucked into stockings. As it was my
first directive, I was very proud of myself for conceiving of this fashionable idea. I remember only two
crisises. The lighter one had to do with granade throwing. According to the drill, , the whole group was to lie behind a sand hill, some distance in the back, while the command and one girl walk into a narrow ditch, from which the granade is to be thrown into the nearby
wadii. The girls were really frightened, and only fear of being left behind kept them as a disciplined group.
The instructor threw the granade to show them how to do it and when.
There was a boyish, strong girl, who volunteered to go first. And acted according to the example, after throwing the
granade, threw herself into the ditch, where she and I hid. Now it was the turn of the second girl.
If one wants to describe a delicate girl, it was number two. Small pleasant face. Tiny hands and feet. Trembling like a bird. I could only calm her by staying next to her. I gave the order. She couldn’t pull out the pin, the guide came to her help, but the little hand could not hold or let go of the
granade. Two seconds, and I, with the instinct of self preservation threw myself on the girl, forcefully pulled the granade out of her hand, and succeeded in rolling the granade away from us. The granade stopped rolling and there was an explosion . We were not hurt. The girl said nothing. Only her face spoke. After some time she fell sick, and was away for a long time.
The second crisis was already an affair of the heart.
I was very shy. There were three girls there who were best friends, and they threw a lot of who gets the instructor. They connived with my cousin to invite me over, and there they will execute their plan.
It is possible that physically it was less dangerous than the first crisis, but the escape from the clutches of those conniving girls was more heroic.
I was later invited to join an additional course : field-scouts section
commanders. The aim was to train, what was later called Intelligence
field officers. On graduating, I got a choice unit of boys, who were
themselves candidates for commanders courses. They were a year or two younger than I. I knew them all: I knew their families. We
were all friends and neighbours. I was appointed their commander not for
any special ability or aptitude, or any advantage over them,. But very
quickly I found myself first among equals, and didn’t need any special
effort to exercise authority over them; they accepted me as the undisputed
authority over the unit, and beyond it, into their families and the whole village. I found myself slowly maturing before my time without understanding how it all
happened, that I became an authority.
If I
needed another proof for the status of authority I gained in the area, it came
in the form of a request from my grandfather.
My grandfather, my adored, highly respected man, to whom the whole family
looked up, came to me, not his oldest grandson, for help.
My grandfather had three daughters and one son.
All Living in Eretz-Israel. My
mother and her oldest sister Shifra Galinka, with their families lived in the
same village. The youngest sister Zipora was
one of the establishers of kibbutz Ein-Shemer and lived there, and my uncle,
Yaacov Neria lived with his family in the next village Kefar Malal.
He was the first Veterinary Doctor in the
“my grandson. I know that it is
not only you to be brought into matters of life and death.
But since you were chosen to be there, you became an expert, and you have
no longer the right to ignore matters that come to your attention.” I was so
shocked, and could not say a word, and we continued walking in the shades of the
cypress trees that lined the road till we reached our orchard.
That year another
grave event happened; and it will be impressed in my heart forever. The
activities of the underground organizations in the area grew.
A British Military Car, filled with soldiers struck a road mine in the
next road. It was clear it was the
work of either the Etzel or the Lechi. Some
soldiers were killed, others were wounded. The
British Army declared a curfew of twenty-four hours in the whole area.
A large unit arrived from the next camp, and searched all over for arm
storage places, and even in private homes. The Underground organizations who
knew in advance what would happen took out their arms and his them in different
places ahead of the attack, but the underground “Hagana” was caught in a
routine of the usual training, and the British discovered two central storages,
with what was called then a big stash, including the “artillery” of the
Hagana – the sub-machine guns. These
arms were kept for the defence of our settlements.
Naturally such an event would shake and spoil the atmosphere in our small
villages. It brought to the decision
by the High Command of the Hagana in the area, coordinated bwith the Chief
Intelligence Service of the Hagana (the “shai”), to strike against the
dissenting organizations, to arrest their commanders for inquiries, according to
a national list; to visit the homes of their foot soldiers to warn them away
from the area, and above all to find their main weapon storage and confiscate
it. It was not the first time in the history if the Jewish People
that dissenting factions wage war against each other.
Neither was it the first time in the history of Underground Movements
world wide. Civil Wars are known to
be some of the most severe historical events in the history of mankind.
The destruction and bitterness that they leave in their wake, are long
lasting and very painful.
I got an order
from the District Command , that I, as a commander of a special unit, was to act
that very night, arrest a certain fellow in the next village, which hosted a
large concentration of “Lechi” members, which were known as fierce fighters,
and very loyal to their cause. It
was hinted that this fellow was accused of killing a “Hagana” member
someplace else in the country in a mission for his organization.
For me and my ten men this was a new kind of mission.
We faced a
serious dilemma, an emotional and tactical one We shared only one piece
of arms. It was a pistol, and only I had a licence to use it, and only for
saving of lives. The others were
armed with sticks (kapap), which could be serious weapons but demanded close
contact (hence their name). The rest
was left to chance. No doubt one had to be optimistic and hope that your enemy
does not possess a superior weapon to the Stick, used since the time of Abraham.
We knew the whereabouts of this fellow’s family cottage, and we set out
through the orchards, to encircle the cottage.
Crossing an open piece of road, between two orchards, we heard a shout
“stop”. The same voice announced
that the first one to cross the light
circle will be shot. ZA quick
evaluation of the situation, revealed that there were at least six fellows lying
in wait for us, all armed with pistols. I
admit that I was not braver or stronger than any of my ten men, but I was the
lead, and it was up to me to break through the circle of light first.
We charged. There were shots, after
which the shooters managed to escape. I
felt a little dampness in my foot; on examination under the street light I found
that a bullet pierced the rubber sole of my shoe and scorched my heel. It
wasn’t really a serious matter, and the damage was not great, but the
Intelligence Command were very happy to have found out about it. They
confiscated my shoe – until today I got no compensation for it. Two days later
we got a message, that the same fellow was taking part, with some of his
friends, in sticking posters on the walls of the next village. We gathered and
quickly set out on bicycles to catch up with them.
We succeeded this time. The
boy was caught and given to the Intelligence Command.
Later, during the War of Independence, this fellow appeared in front of me –
already a Company Commander – and I noticed that his arm was somewhat injured.
As a result of the punishment allotted him then.
I felt relieved when he asked me to join my unit.
It seemed as if “by- gones will be by-gones.
Few days after the above incident I was confronted with another dilemma.
This time of the heart. Ever
since Elementary School my heart yearned for a
certain young girl. She was
in my eyes the perfect symbol of beauty and good character.
She realized her true worth, and paid no attention to her many admirers.
I now tend to think that all the boys in the class were in love with her.
This strange courtship lasted for three years.
I had one advantage over the other boys. My uncle owned subscription
tickets for the Philharmonic Orchestra, which visited the Sharon Valley once or
twice a year. Whenever they couldn’t go, they offered the tickets to me. I
approached the object of my admiration very hesitantly, feeling as if I was
climbing the Himalayas for the first time. To
my surprise and happiness, she accepted my invitation to the concert in the next
village.
Throughout this “operation”, of walking together side-by-side towards the
cinema house in the next village, where the concert was to take place, the
nightly return alone, when the only noise heard was that of the crickets and
frogs in the small swamps along the road, I didn’t dare even touch her hand.
Until today I wonder how it was possible to refrain from doing just that.
These feelings, better known as the young Verter’s agonies, were never
discussed, or even brought to the
surface. Instead there was an
extended discussion over The Mendelsohn Violin Concerto Played that night. A
discussion still remembered fondly, and bringing to my nostrils the wonderful
smells of the Eretz-Israel warm and pleasant
nights, and the memory of these two eighth grade kids.
It was discovered
in l946 that this same girl, who developed into quite a beautiful young woman,
is a member of the Lechi Underground. Very
active and very bold, taking part in dangerous operation.
I got an order to go and search her house, as there was a suspicion that
she stores a large quantity of illegal posters, glue and brushes.
It was written that we have to prevent, at any cost, the pasting of these
posters on the village walls, before it occurs.
Again it was hinted that we may face serious opposition, as two Lechi
fellows are already hiding in the house.
What went on in my heart between the time I got the order and the time I was to
execute it, is opened to imagination. I
decided to give the family a warning.
I asked my best
friend, a neighbour of the girl, to ask the younger sister to his house, where I
waited . I asked her to go out with
me to the next orchard. There I told
her that it was found out that they were hiding illegal materials.
And if it is not destroyed or at least transferred to another place,
there may be serious consequences. She
also possessed a certain charm, and as well was proud and controlled.
She listened to every word I said and asked only one question “do you
have anything else to add?’ when she heard “no” she turned back, and
confidently walked back to her house.
To my relief, just one hour before the operation was to take place, I got a cancellation order from the High Command. Until today I don’t know why.