CHAPTER 22 - The Problem with Felix and Sara in the Crosshairs

Jerusalem, the Old City, with its ancient stone walls, towers and mosques. Sunset. We hear the sound of Hebrew prayer and the Muezzin’s call to Muslim prayer.

Sara Outside Hotel Fast, Jerusalem

An annex in Hotel Fast, overlooking the Old City. Sara dressed as an American traveller, with large brimmed feathered hat - has taken the precaution of donning the dark glasses of a partially sighted lady - drinking tea, on a low banquette. A white stick and a Baedeker’s guide book - the trademark of any well-informed tourist - open on her lap, complete the picture. A wealthy, American grand dame on a Grand Tour - in wartime. Next to her, Joe, nicely scrubbed up, in neat Edwardian attire and trim boater hat, drinking tea too - Hotel Fast gets its English Breakfast tea from Jewish suppliers in Berlin. Sara is surprised to admit to herself that she is pleased to see Joe again and pleased that he is in such fine fettle.

Visible through an arched doorway Commander Von Kressenstein, with his adjunct, now familiar, Felix, and another officer, Officer Bismarck. Felix sees Joe and Sara and looks away nervously.

The Germans Gather Around a Large Map while Felix Looks On

The Germans gather around a large map. Officer Bismarck brings his superior up to date: “In Jerusalem we have fifteen thousand men.”

Von Kressenstein, interrogates him further: “And in the south?”

    “In Be’er Sheva there are some ten thousand men and horses of  about half that number - ”

    “Double the numbers at Be’er Sheva and get more horses!” the General barks at Bismarck. They’ll never attack through the desert.”

And to Felix: “Get me Berlin on the telegraph - ”

        “Yes sir, at once!” responds a heavily sweating Felix.

****

Sara & Joe in the Annexe of Hotel Fast

Joe returns to Sara in the annex, with two glasses of carbonated soda water - all the rage in a country that can count both typhoid and cholera in its rivers.

Joe & Felix at Hotel Fast

Nervous Felix comes over to them and surreptitiously slips Joe something.  His hand is shaking.

    “You mustn’t come here again - ” he whispers, “I’m afraid they’ll guess something.”

A hand drawn folded map with annotated notes and troop numbers, which Sara carefully slips into her Baedeker, and puts in her copious hand bag, picking up her white stick and holding on to Joe for support. Meticulous and systematic in her gathering of information, she never seeks the limelight, preferring at all times to be the backroom girl, or as we might put it, leading from the rear, even if it is with a white stick.

****

Meanwhile, Aron, finds himself in the full glare of the spotlight again - admittedly, under scrutiny and continuous assessment, but this time, the powers that be, appear to be on side. 

Aron with Sir Archibald Murray & Major Wyndham Deedes

British High Command Headquarters. Cairo. A map of the the Southern front, perused by Major Wyndham Deedes and Lieutenant-General Sir Archibald Murray. 

General Murray is in a pickle. Twice defeated at Gaza, he needs to show some muscle or risk failure and possible dismissal.

Aron is convinced that the defences at Be’er Sheva are weak - he has the proof in his hands -  and that the main offensive should be there with a decoy operation at Gaza - to persuade the Turks that that is where the British will attack. He speaks with authority, confident that all his agents have prepared well for this moment and that his material is right up to the minute and needs to be acted upon without delay:

    “We have all troop numbers and routes to the front, a map of the city, with all fortifications marked, from our army contact and our other agents - You can plan your attack based on our material.”

Indeed such an idea had already been broached by a certain General Philip Chetwode, but it is only now that Aron has amassed the necessary, field intelligence, that such an operation looks viable.

The two military men look thoughtful. Deedes is cautious but Murray realises this is his last chance.

Can Aron persuade them?

**** 

Felix Proving to be Something of a Problem

Back in Palestine, von Kressentein’s adjunct, Felix Baha-eddin, is proving to be something of a problem. Increasingly emotional and unstable. It now seems too risky to leave Felix in Jerusalem. Jovial Naaman too, has made himself too visible, too affable. Questions are being asked. It is only a matter of time before the Germans suspect something.

What to do? 

**** 

Joe, Sara, Toba & Nissim set out for Rishon

Joe, Sara, Toba and fiancé, Nissim Rutman, quickly set out for Rishon in a shared carriage to discuss the situation. It is an awkward journey. Toba has morning sickness. Joe makes unnecessary jokes. Sara is silent and preoccupied. Toba and Nissim don’t like anything about what is going on, fearing that one false move will incriminate them all.

When they arrive at Naaman’s house, in Rishon-Le-Zion, he greets them hurriedly with none of his usual banter,  and quickly hands them a manilla envelope stuffed with hand drawn maps.

    “This may be the last information we get. My contact’s pestering me to get him out of the country - He’s risking his life for us - ”

Joe interjects: “And we’re bloody risking our lives for him!”

Nissim agrees: “Your Albanian is placing us all in immediate danger!”

Joe mimes strangulation: “I can get rid of him if you want?”
    

    “Don’t be ridiculous!” says Sara, “He should lie low, for a while. Naaman, you can take him to Leo’s house in Hadera. Then your Albanian can go back with Leo on the next ship.”

Naaman looks uncertain.  Then he shakes his head vehemently.

    “He can’t desert just yet, he says “That would make our plans too obvious. And they’ll come looking for him - and maybe for us.”

Sara agrees. But only for the moment.

But Naaman has something else on his mind that is troubling him deeply - his beloved cousin: “And no news from Absa, for three months!? Aunt Fanya’s out of her mind with worry! I’m in half a mind to go and look for him myself.”

Sara looks at Joe for support:

    “No need to do that - ” Joe answers quickly: “He’s training, in fact - to become a pilot - in England.”
 
    “A pilot, hey? In England? Why doesn’t he write?” Naaman is disbelieving.

    “He’s got no time to write - it’s all top secret,” Joe sounds very convincing and the clandestine nature of the operation seems to cover for the lack of communication from Avshalom.

Naaman however, remains incredulous and unhappy: “I don’t like it, his mother’s beside herself!”

He thrusts an envelope at Sara: “Here’s a letter from her for Absa - where ever he is!”

****

The road outside Rishon. Heavy rain. Abu Farrid drives, Sara and Joe in the back of the carriage.

Sara, her face fixed, tears the letter into small pieces, and drops the fragments out the window, as the carriage jogs over the bumpy, rutted, muddy roads.


    “He didn’t believe us, not at all,” she says.

Joe discounts Sara’s worries and continues with his own agenda:

    “He’s just jealous - he thinks I’m top dog now that Absa’s not here - ”

He takes her hands: “But now he’s no longer with us, can I dare to hope - ?”

Sara removes her hands from Joe’s fervent grasp:  

    “No, Joe, you cannot hope for that - he is as alive to me now, as he was then - He will always be alive for me.”

**** 

The Aronson House Zikhron Ya’akov, Evening

The Aronson House, Zikhron Ya’akov. Evening. A weary Sara climbs out of the carriage, helped by a dapper Joe. From across the street, the village gossips on their porch, Perl and Adele, look on askance.

    “If her poor mother were alive - she'd turn in her grave!” exclaims one of them with a little less logic than might be hoped.

    “And that husband - ” says the other, with righteous indignation: “Why does he let his wife go off with another man!?”

    “More than one!” ripostes the first, her bourgeois sensibilities suitably incensed.

Sara walks inside, her head held high, followed by a whistling, strutting Joe.

    “Good night, ladies,” Joe raises his hat in mock salute.

The two women exchange a look of virtuous disgust: “Shameful!” they say in unison.

The house in darkness as a single light goes on in Aron’s study.

**** 

Sara at Aron's Desk

Sara at Aron’s desk, working by lamplight, writing her report.

‘My dear Aron, as I write my report to you tonight, the house seems so sad and lonely. I am afraid. And alone. There is so much intrigue and opposition to our work. Everyone suspects us of one thing or another. How must longer before your brave British come?’

We have said little of Sara’s inner life. Perhaps because she seeks to keep it that way; inside, out of public view. Introspection and self doubt are kept for private moments. Silence is often her chosen reply but her silence is not acquiescence, but a quiet kind of power. She breaks taboos, both of gender and of sex, is different from the other women of the settlement and in the main is indifferent to their opinions of her. Politeness is not subservience, it gains her time and gives her a fragile equilibrium. Yet despite her brave face, the condemnation by her fellow Zikhron women, cuts Sara to the quick. Her attempt at common courtesy only draws more ire, the wrongful, hypocritical condemnation and accusation of sharing a bed with Joe, could not have been further from Sara’s head. There was only one man with whom she could share her bed, her love and her body, and that man was gone.

Sara was not a human being driven only by love, but her love for Avshalom is a refuge from the storm, a motivation for the immense task ahead of her. Unlike other heroines, she does not give up everything for love, but she never gives up on love.

****

Aron & Sonya, Hotel Continental

The Hotel Continental. Cairo. Aron at his typewriter replying to Sara.

    ‘Don’t mind what people say. Hold on, little sister, it’s only a matter of a month or so, and we’ll fetch you, I promise!”
       
Aron sits down heavily on the bed. His fears overcome him, and he drops his head in his hands.

Sonya, in a loose negligée, comes over to Aron and kisses his ear.

    “I’d like to meet this little sister of yours - ” she says in her husky voice. “Perhaps she needs a leetle holiday?”

**** 

Sara & Aphrodite

Sara back in Atlit, opens the shuttered windows in the tower room. Tears run down her face.

Light pours in to the dark stone room and we see those constant reminders of her lost loved one: the goddess Aphrodite, a photo of Avshalom on horseback and the one of her and Absa from the Damascus studio. She dashes the tears away from her cheeks and blows her nose purposely.

****

Watchman Meeting at Tel Adas

The Watchman Settlement at Tel Adas. Leader, Shochat, and other Watchmen at a meeting. The mood is tense.
    
    “They’re getting cash from the British! That fool, Lishansky, is boasting about it, to anyone who’ll listen,” Shochat’s antagonism both personal and political, is only too clear.

A Watchmen responds: “He’s a loose canon - a danger to everything we’ve built up. He’ll bring the might of the bloody Turks down on us if we’re not careful!”

Everyone is outraged and they decide, in a close convocation, that Lishansky must be destroyed at the next opportune moment.

****

A few days later, Sara at the tower room window. A tiny ship, the Monegam on the horizon.

Downstairs in the Station grounds, Sara at a galvanized metal wash tub wringing out ‘washing’ - white sheets and the red sofa cover. Goliath keeping her company.

Sara on the balcony pegging up a white sheet, the white sheet flapping in the wind.

At the window with a pair of binoculars. Her view as the Monegam increases its smoke.

Sara at the Window

She permits herself a small smile. Perhaps their luck is changing?

**** 

The Monegam Anchored off Shore

Night, stormy water and high waves. The Monegam lies anchored a couple of kilometres from the shore. In the pitch darkness, Leo is rowed ashore by Abdullah’s sons.

****

A figure - male - carrying an oil lamp, moves through the darkness, cautiously making his way across the steep-banked wadi. Another figure - female - crosses the dark stubble of an empty field. Shadows everywhere, as they navigate the darkness threatening to swallow them up at every step.

Turkish patrol in the Shadow of Palm Trees

Sara and Joe crouch in the shadow of some palm trees as a Turkish patrol marches within inches of their hiding place.

Close on their faces as the soldiers pass.

Sara and Joe continue on through the fields. A sudden bellowing surprises them. Joe grabs Sara’s hand and pulls her to the ground, behind a boulder. 

A bull runs bellowing into the wadi straight for them. A tall, Arab cowherd brandishing a stick rushes up, cursing loudly.
    
    “Yallah! Yallah! You Son of a Dog of a cow!”

He manages to catch the bull with a rope - who follows him, meek as a lamb.

Hidden Sara & Joe with Cowherd

Sara and Joe behind the boulder, as the cowherd leans his stick against the boulder and pisses noisily, a few inches away from their noses. Sara slowly reaches out and takes the man’s stick.

The cowherd reaches out for his stick - it has gone. He curses again and grabbing the lowing bull, by its rope, hauls it off in the darkness.
                       
Joe pulls Sara to her feet: “You’re crazy! But you’re bloody brave!”

****

Sara, armed with her stick, and Joe with his gun, exchange hurried greetings with Leo, who gives Joe a heavy pouch in exchange for Sara’s leather bag full of reports.

    “Sara! Aron told you not to come yet. It’s too dangerous!” Leo says breathlessly, wiping his glasses dry, which still hang from a piece of string.

    “Tell my brother, I can defend myself - ” Sara shows Leo the cowherd’s knobbly stick. “But tell him also, we would prefer some real guns. Plenty of them!”

She kisses Leo lightly on the cheek and then he is gone.

Joe’s face. Not happy.

****

Sara unpacks the pouch: letters from Cairo and America in Aron and Rifka’s hand, newspaper cuttings about the War, a purse heavy with gold coins. Joe counts out the money. Sara opens the letters.

    “He’s in love with you!” Joe bursts out.

Sara feigns ignorance: “Who?”

Joe throws down the purse: “That Russian retard, of course!”

**** 

Leo Reads his Siddur on the Hotel Terrace

Hotel Continental, Cairo. Leo, morose on the hotel terrace, reads his siddur. Aron on a wicker chair with his appointments diary.

    “There’s no point - Leo,” says Aron looking up.

    “In what?” Leo is taken aback.


    “Falling in love - ”

    “Everyone needs love,” Leo is unrepentant.

    Aron shakes his head: “She’s given her heart to Absa and nothing will ever change that.

****

The cliff above Atlit. A calm clear night, with new moon and a flat sea. Sara with her stick, and Joe lying on the clifftop, waiting. Joe moves closer to Sara. She shifts away. Joe sighs.

To the left, a watermelon field full of ripe melons. Three Arab farmers sit talking quietly, under the light of a small lantern, rifles on their knees, guarding the melons.

Close on a slithering snake at Joe’s ankle. Terrified Joe who hates snakes, pulls Sara to her feet, stepping on a dry branch which cracks like a gunshot.

Instinctively, Sara hooks the snake with her stick and throws it into the bushes.

The farmers start firing wildly in every direction. Watermelons shatter in a mess of pink fruit.

Bullets whiz over the crouching Sara and Joe.

****

Sound over of the gun shots. On the shore, Leo and Leibel lie flat on the sand. Abdullah in the little rowing boat, under a tarpaulin covering sacks of food supplies and gold coins, waits in the shallows.

The gun shots stop. Leo pulls Leibel to his feet as Sara and Joe hurry towards them. 

Leibel says, as if nothing is amiss: “Hello Miss Sara!”

Joe hoists sacks onto his shoulders, Sara hands over the leather pouch and takes a pouch of letters and heavy bag of coins from Leo.

Joe continues up the slope, making no pretence of not greeting Leo.

Leo takes his chance.

    “You must know, I love you Sara - Everyone else does,” he says.

    “Poor Leo. It’s not a time for love, but for action,” she tells her sadly spurned, would-be-lover.

**** 

A Still & Starry Night

The next time the ship comes, it is a still and starry night, the sky like velvet, the temperature like a warm bath. The greeting team is early and armed with torches wrapped in oilskin, they wait in that lovely darkness as if in a dream.

The ship approaches and its cargo is swiftly offloaded as has been done so many times before. Their reverie only broken when they hear the sound of clinking bells growing louder. A camel caravan approaches. The bags are quickly thrown back onto the little boat which disappears as quickly as it had come.

The greeting party, meanwhile, have submerged themselves in the shallows, only their heads and the tops of their waterproof flashlights, above the dark water and there they must remain for the good part of an hour while numerous, patient camels and their somnambulant drivers, plod slowly past them.  

Finally the maddening, tinkling bells fade from the air. Only when there is complete silence, do the shivering agents eventually climb out of the sea, signaling with their torches, that all is clear.

The little boat rowed by Scanda and Elias, comes to shore, gliding on the soft, little waves, and this time they are able to offload their cargo without interruption.

****

Rumours are spreading. The Yishuv is shivering in its boots. The joint Security Committee which represents the combined communities of Eretz Israel are terrified of upsetting the authorities. They  have worked hard since the beginning, to keep the Turks onside by persuading them of the absolute loyalty of the Jews of Palestine. This message is passed on to each individual community; Zikhron Ya’akov being one of the first to be targeted.

****

Sara with Elders in the Synagogue

The Meeting Room, Synagogue, Zikhron Ya’akov. The town elders, with Mayor Meir and Rabbi Kornfeld, sit at a table, they are no longer the kindly leaders and family friends of the past. Sara stands before them, unyielding and unflinching. Joe nonchalantly picking his finger nails in the corner of the room.

    “God forbid you are plotting rebellion - ” Meir says with the sternness of an angel of wrath.
    
Rabbi Kornfeld adds passionately: “They’ll kill us all if you are!”

    “We are not plotting anything and we’d do nothing to endanger our people,” Sara responds calmly.

But Mayor Meir pays no heed. He is in his stride, as village head, moral leader and avenging angel:

    “In the name of our Committee we have to inform you that you are working at unclean work and that you are at the head of this work!”

Rabbi Kornfeld echoes the Mayor’s sentiments but adds an appeal to the guilt his interrogee might feel in the event of failure to obey.

    “You are a daughter of this village, Sara. We have known you since you were a child. Your family will bear the brunt of this danger. We turn to you, not to Yosef Lishansky, who is all over the place, one day here, one day there!”
    
Joe hearing his name, stops picking his nails and comes out of his corner: “It’s all in the interests of research, scientific research,” he says casually.

Mayor Meir is incandescent, his authority at stake, his community in danger, Joe’s impudence, intolerable:

    “We don’t want to hear any more explanations from you. Only one word, the right answer: Your promise to stop this work which has gone completely out of control!”

Rabbi Kornfeld adds with Old Testament finality: “God forbid, we don’t want you to endanger the whole Yishuv!”

The other Committee members shout in a gaggle of voices:

    “We don’t want the Turks to slaughter us and drive us out.”

    “ We don’t want to be hanged for a few people who want to endanger themselves!”

     “We don’t want a war between Jews and Jews!”

    “What about your poor father?”

    “Yes, what about poor Fishel? He doesn't deserve this shame.”

Mayor Meir sums up the Committee’s opinion with one last, fierce, imperative:
    
    “Stop your work at once and remove all your activities from Atlit and from Zikhron.”

Sara remains tight-lipped and gives no final answer, but says that she will have to consult her partners before agreeing and that her answer will be by the last day of the month. She exits with Joe who takes her by the arm.

The elders stare disapprovingly as they go.   

    “Scientist, my foot!”

    “He’s nothing but a penniless rogue!”

    “A liar and spinner of tall tales!”

    “She cares nothing for her father or for any of us!” the Mayor sums up everyone’s opinion.
    
    “And she’s a married woman!” hisses a horrified Rabbi Kornfeld.

****

In the carriage on the way back to Atlit, a shaken Sara tells Joe that they will have to stop working on reports for a bit, but she will continue with their scientific work as Aron would wish - most of the Atlit workers have run off scared and because they haven’t been paid for a month - and only Abu Farrid remains.

She writes desperately to Aron: ‘We must organise money here to pay all the workers. The Committee wants us to stop everything. They want everyone out of Atlit, Zikhron and Hadera. What am I to do?”

All her life, as the eldest daughter, responsibility was thrust on Sara. The boys, of course, were encouraged to be Davidic leaders and go out on brave adventures - though neither Sam nor Zvi achieved such heights - the dutiful girls learned to cook and sew. Sara’s lot. Girls were reared for marriage and motherhood, but  - not counting one failed marriage - both, would be denied Sara and little Rifka, who just now, is swanning around America with that other Davidic scion, handsome Alexander.

****

In the interim, Sara turns, as if by rote, to the tasks at hand. Tasks which keep her calm and focused. Sharing cooking duties with Abu Farrid, foraging for food in the deserted fields and vegetable garden, once her pride and joy, now only a few hardy runner beans and sickly-looking tomatoes cling to the vines, and attending to ‘normal’ Station business.

Sara Measuring Rainfall

A photograph shows her in the Station grounds, with rainfall measuring equipment, her face, turned to the camera, in close interrogation. It is Joe who takes the picture, shooting directly into the sun so that Sara is partially obscured by the light. She wears her dark workwear, an apron reaching almost to her ankles, dress with high collar, cut close to her small waist - she has lost weight in the intervening months - her diet minimal, her fears, all consuming as her mother's cancer. But she puts on a smile.

She writes the day’s temperature and rainfall in a log book already filled with entries in her hand. Then she looks up into the cloudy sky. Stormy weather threatens. Joe has been gone for an hour or so.

A furious Joe rides up and dismounts, carrying a Workers Newspaper, with picture of Israel Shochat and his Watchmen, from which he reads with unrestrained anger:

‘Our policy is complete civilian loyalty and every individual who endangers our cause, will be rooted out and destroyed - the Zikhron Ya’akov sector should take note.’

Joe stamps on the offending newspaper.

    “F...ing Bastards,” he says summing up Sara’s unspoken sentiments.
    
    “We’ll have to be more careful - ” she says, trying to calm him down.

    But Joe is enraged and will not stop: “And there’s worse - they’re saying I killed Absa, because I’m in love with you!”
    
    “I pay no attention to such rumours, and neither should you,” says our placid heroine, and though Joe's words have wounded her soul, she turns back to her log book.

**** 

Sara & Efraim

After the elders’ warning, Sara visits her aged father back home. In the past, he has always supported Sara in what he knew of her endeavours. Now, his silent fears are hard to conceal, but on her arrival, he hugs his daughter as usual and says nothing, turning back to his prayer book and his God.

Sara turns to her bible - The Workers’ newspaper, dated March 19th, 1917, although the Russian Julian calendar has February as the month of this momentous event.

‘After several days of demonstrations in St Petersburg, the Tsar has abdicated and Moscow has joined the Revolution - ’

    “Sara, my child - you know they are talking - and I am worried for you - ” says the anxious father.

Sara puts down the newspaper and takes Efraim’s hands:

    “Dear Papa, there’s a Revolution in Russia, the Turks are still here threatening us in Jaffa, the Germans are everywhere - but people are still talking about small things - ”

****

There is no one in Zikhron or indeed in the whole of Palestine with whom she can share her deepest thoughts.

Sara & Goliath

Only to the big, black dog, Goliath, and to Aron who is far away, can she confide even a little:

‘The house is always sad and lonely, and all kinds of terrible thoughts come into my mind, for after all, our work is very black, and always in danger. Thank goodness, that until now everything has been alright,’ she writes. ‘The Yishuv is all stirred up. Everyone is thinking things of us. For the time being, our work is being carried on properly and as it should be, and we have no fear that they will inform the authorities on us.’                       

****

The town is indeed, in uproar, seething with gossip and conspiracy theories. That there is a group among them carrying on espionage is now a known fact.

     ****