CHAPTER 24 - Gold and Guns, Farewell to Sonya and the Trouble with Joe

Farewell to Sonya

Sonya's farewell is celebrated at a delightful, little restaurant in down-town Cairo. Wine and delicious delicacies are ordered but it is a sad occasion. Sara has never seen her brother with so close a relationship and it pains her to see its end. Sonya, however is determined to go out with a bang and makes numerous toasts in neat vodka to the success of Nili and the British and to meeting up again. She drinks much more than she ought, requiring Aron’s shoulder and a horse-drawn carriage to return her home in one piece.

It might be added that they will never see the brave, beautiful Russian again. She will rise rapidly in the ranks of the Communist Party in Moscow - only to be be quickly expelled because of her Jewishness - and disappear in the vast maw of the terrible Stalin years that consume all of the Soviet Union. The world is exploding and the Russian behemoth is rumbling across the world stage bringing chaos and millions of deaths in its wake.

But that is another story. 

****

Joe in the Munitions Workshop

More immediate explosions are to follow

 Munitions Office, General Headquarters, Cairo. A noisy workshop with sparks flying and the screech of metal cutters. A number of women munition workers are visible which further disconcerts Joe whose views on women and weapons is rather old-fashioned. Close on a bundle of explosives, wiring, fuses and detonator. On a board, aerial shots of various bridges across the Jordan.

Joe, with a plaster on his jaw, regards the mess of wires, whilst a cheery-looking Cockney, Captain Lloyd explains painstakingly and very slowly as if Joe's English might improve with the pace of his delivery:

     “So, you place - this little bundle - under that bridge over the Jordan - Jazzy Mejams - it’s called - and boom - Bob’s your uncle - and those buggers - go to kingdom come,” says the cheerful denizen of London’s East End.

Leo - who Joe, pointedly ignores, attempts to follow the Captain’s careful instruction but Joe looks uncomprehending.

Leo interjects: “He means that dynamiting Jisr Mejame, will stop the Turks bringing in troops and supplies - ”

    “I know what he means, snaps an affronted Joe: “But who’s this Bob?”

 And then in Hebrew: “And why does he talk so slowly? Does he think I'm stupid?!”

Captain Lloyd sniggers: “Oh, you chaps have such a sense of humour!”

The he adds encouragingly: “And you’ll get a bonus for doing the job properly.”

Joe stares at the Captain, then turns to Leo.

    “‘You chaps’? Does he mean Jews?! Does he think we’re doing their dirty work for the money?! Let him go himself! Bloody antisemite!”

He storms out, leaving Leo to placate the Cockney Captain and then attempt to placate Joe. But Joe is just about to initiate what Aron will call a ‘theatrical explosion’ that will further endanger Aron’s plans.

****

A busy street in British Cairo laden with cars, taxis and military transport. A large building with a notice above the door: ‘Offices of the Committee for Palestinian Refugees’ - this, at a time when ‘Palestinian Refugees’ meant Jewish ones. And there are indeed, hundreds of hungry refugees awaiting food distribution, funds for widows, orphans, the elderly, and other needy recipients, in the Jewish homeland and here in Egypt.

Refugees awaiting Food Distribution

Already there is disagreement between Aron and ‘the Committee’ - a conduit back to the leaders who have so sharply rejected Aron, back home. The latter think it an insult that they are not in charge of handling the funds, and they demand a committee to judge the case. Aron, however, refuses to relinquish control, believing that only Nili can get the gold back to Palestine.

He writes to Raphael, who was has finally, recovered completely from his injury and is continuing to quietly work for Nili.

‘They have ignored me for years in the Yishuv, now they want to take control. Why just at this moment do they want to work with us? Because we’ve got gold that’s why!’

He continues: ‘Tomorrow there is the chance to send our dear ones a little bread, a little help. Let’s do it. We can do without that dratted committee.’

****

Meanwhile Sara, taking advantage of this unexpected visit to Cairo, and having a few hours to herself, arranges to meet Raphael Aboulafia and his new wife Miryam, who have set up home in Alexandria - to offer her congratulations on their marriage. Sara takes Leo with her - a little apprehensive to go on such a long journey on her own.

A Visit to Miryam Aboulafia, Leo, Sara & Yemina Belkind

Two photograph of that reunion can be seen in the archives - one shows a typical, middle class room of the Jerusalem exiles of the time. They are all seated around a nice, dining table, drinking sweetened Egyptian-style coffee - ‘bots’ - or ‘mud’, as it is known in the homeland - in narrow glasses on gold-rimmed saucers. On the right, Yemima Belkind, Avshalom’s and Raphael’s first cousin, something of a mother-figure to Sara, despite being not much older than her,  Sara next to her, looking directly at the camera as she always does. Leo keeping his thoughts to himself and on the left, the very young, very pretty Mrs. Miryam Aboulafia. The picture is taken by Raphael.

Yemina Belkind & Sara in Alexandria

The other photograph depicts two strong women, Yemina and Sara in pretty, spring-time dresses, sprigged with tiny roses, each holding their sorrows, close to their ample bosoms. 

Yemina is no ordinary housewife. Married to Liubin Moshe, an orange grove owner who she left behind in Gedera, having been in Egypt when war broke out and she was unable to get home. Undaunted she remained in Alexandria where she set up a Hebrew language school for those exiled from Palestine and a nursery school or 'Gan' for little ones. 

Here she worked as teacher and youth leader and was also a member of the committee that dealt with refugees, setting up first aid services for the Jewish Legion and Zion Mule Brigade, before they left for the front in unhappy Gallipoli. She also sent parcels of food and clothing back to Palestine via British officers who went secretly to that contested territory from Egypt. And she was of help to Aron in the many machinations of the various ‘Committees’.

In her own way, she was as subversive as Sara was.

It is she who introduced Raphael to Miryam and her ill-timed trip was to their wedding. Beautiful, Russian born, Miryam and Raphael would have two children, Shlomit and Ora. 

Miryam and Raphael Aboulafia with baby Shlomit

Miryam was an artist - known as Had Gad Ya or ‘little goat’, after her habit of springing from one foot to the other, and had studied and exhibited at Bezalel in Jerusalem. She would achieve some fame after her separation from Raphael and would be replaced by another Mrs Aboulafia - with the pretty alliterative, name of Shoshanna Shimonovitch - born in Vilnius, Lithuania - and not an artist. That marriage would last much longer than the first.

It might be worth mentioning that in the picture described above, glum Leo is thinking only of Sara, and pensive Sara, is thinking only of Avshalom. And Mrs Aboulafia is wondering whether she has made a mistake in her choice of a husband and where her career as an artist is going.

****

Joe & Sara at Cairo Café

When Sara gets back to Cairo, Joe is extremely put out that she had gone to Alexandria with Leo, instead of him. He is supposed to be her body guard, after all.  So Sara takes him out for tea to make amends. Despite the honeyed pistachio cake, the afternoon is not a success. Joe is still jealous and moody and tension hangs heavy in the air.

 ****

The Offices of the Committee for Palestinian Refugees, Cairo 

Raphael, Leibel & Leo outside the Committee for Palestinian Refugees, Cairo

A large open safe stands in the corner of the room, filled with fat grey canvas bags of gold coins, each weighing ten kilos. 

British Quinine & Gold

To this will be added desperately needed medical supplies including quinine.

Leibel and Leo take the bags and carefully place them in a couple of battered suitcases. Raphael keeps guard with a gun. Joe sulks in a corner, having been denied his own gun, as we recall.

Leibel struggles to lift the heavy suitcases. Leo helps him, but Joe doesn't move a muscle.

A bossy, female Committee member in a head scarf, addresses Raphael brusquely: “Tell Aronson that we need a joint committee to decide how to distribute the money.”

****

Aron’s office, British Headquarters. 

Despite his successes with Commander in Chief Allenby, Aron is pulling his hair out because of the  infighting between interested parties both in Egypt and back home.

    “Another committee!?” He slams his fist down on his desk. “We’ve sweated our guts out raising the money and we’re risking our lives getting it back! And all they want is another bloody committee!”

Raphael, Joe, Sara & Leo in Aron's Cairo Office

Leo and Raphael wait for his anger to pass. Sara sits calmly, arms folded, in a chair. Brooding Joe cleans his fingernails with a pocket knife.

    “Will you stop cleaning your bloody nails!” Aron snaps.

Joe looks hurt. Leo grins at his discomfort.

    “And stop your stupid grinning, Leo!” Aron is in a foul tempered mood.

Down in the dumps Leo, looks at Sara with eyes full of pain and now it's Joe who is grinning and humming his little warbler bird's song.

Aron looks as though he will explode.

    “You’re like two teenage boys at a time when we need men!”

    “If we fight amongst ourselves, how are we going to help anyone? We need to get the gold back home,” Sara tries to placate everyone.

****

The Hotel Bar. Hotel Continental.  Stubborn Joe smoking sullenly at the bar with Leo and Raphael.

    “I’m not going to blow up any bridges for any effing Brits!” Joe is adamant.                          

**** 

Sara Drinking Tea

The lounge of the Hotel Continental. Sara drinking tea, Aron smoking a cigar, when Captain Edmunds comes up, apparently by chance, to greet them.

    “Madam, the High Command urge you not to go back! Egypt is open to you. You can stay here as long as you wish. The dangers far outweigh your valuable services,” says the Captain.

Sara answers in French, her command of that pretty language so much better than her English:

    “Thank you Captain, for your kind sentiments and those of your Commanders - Please convey my thanks to them.”

She looks at Aron, she knows he has put the Captain up to this: “But I shall be going back, as planned.”

Aron, smoking his cigar, feigns ignorance of Captain Edmunds motives.

    “If mistakes are made, my blood will be on my own head, not on anyone else’s,” Sara fixes her gaze on Aron and her answer is final.

****

May 13th is the date set for Sara’s departure. Aron wants Leo to accompany Sara and Joe to Port Said, to make sure they reach the ship safely and that Joe does not create any shenanigans.

Lovesick Leo writes in that trusty journal: ‘I take flowers to Sara in the morning. Lilies and roses. She leaves tomorrow. How I will miss her. At 9:30 we meet some Yishuv prisoners who were in the Turkish Army and escaped through the lines, to the English. We get some information from them and arrange their freedom. The Brits, not seeing much difference between Turks and Jews, fear they are on the other side! We ask them to join Nili, but they decline, saying they’ve had enough of the Turks and they don't trust the Brits so far as they can spit.’

****

Aron’s room, Hotel Continental. Sara dressed for travel, saying farewell to Aron.

    “I wish you wouldn’t go - ” says the brother.

But Sara is unbending: “It’s what Absa would have wanted - ” she says firmly.

Aron, who is not a man prone to premonition, feels a sinking in his stomach, but realises he is beaten.

     “And I have something for you,” says that resolute woman.

Cairo Farewell with Aron's New Watch

She hands him a parting gift, a box from that Cairo Jewish jeweller - a blue silk-lined box with ‘Haim Allahdeff Jewellers - Cairo’ embossed on the lid.

Inside a new silver wrist watch: “I shall wear it always,” Aron says, putting it on his arm.

****

Half an hour later, just as they should be setting out for Port Said, all hell breaks loose: that ‘theatrical explosion’ as Aron predicted.

    ‘Everything is called off,’ writes Leo. ‘Joe refuses to return! Aron is furious. We’ve had discussions all day, and everyone is tense and angry.’

The meeting between him and Joe is even worse than he makes out.

    “Why? What are you doing it for?” perturbed Leo asks uncooperative Joe.

    “On principal” retorts that stiff-necked, recalcitrant troublemaker.

    “Just the obstinacy and impertinence of a Shomer Watchman,” Leo retaliates.

A slanging match ensues, only half of it political, the rest the rivalry of two lovers of a woman who will give her heart to neither of them.

Leo adds in his own diary: ‘Aron must be made to understand once and for all that the greatest power in the world is Yosef Lishansky. Nothing but diseased egotism... I  agree to take him a letter from Aron. I speak with him, but he just sulks.’

Leo can bear Sara’s silence no longer. He asks her to come to his room and their conversation is heated and can certainly be heard from the hotel corridor where Joe is certainly eavesdropping. When she leaves Leo’s room, Leo hears bitter recriminations and shouting between the stealthy eavesdropper and his would be paramour.

‘And so that’s the business’ he records in his diary, shattered and unnerved by all he has heard.

**** 

The Lobby, Hotel Continental. Stony Aron with upset Sara and downcast Leo. Suitcases in the background.

    “He won’t go!” says Leo, looking unhappy, as well he might.

    “Feels you haven’t shown him enough respect and honour. Haven’t introduced him to the Generals and all that.”

    “Honour? Respect!? If the Generals see we’re arguing amongst ourselves, we’re dead!” Aron flares up like a detonator about to go off.
    
    “We can’t disappoint our commanders. I’ll have to go and do the job myself!” he snaps.

Leo despairs and tries to talk some sense into his senior: “If you back to Palestine, you’d be recognised in minutes - and hanged.”

They all know that is true.

    “I’ll speak to him,” says Sara, the peace maker, picking up her suitcase which Leo wrests from her in an effort to be helpful, that only infuriates Aron, the more.       

**** 

Smiling Joe in Port Said Harbour

The morning of May 16th, the Monegam moored at the quay, Port Said Harbour.

‘In the morning,’ writes Leo, ‘Everything was known to me. So that’s it. Excellent. Yosef goes around with his eyes on the ground, walking like a bear. You are coarse my friend, and vulgar! It’s hard to stand by you! We are about to board the Monegam where I will leave Sara ‘safe’ in your hands.’

Then, like the sun coming out from behind a dark cloud, Joe is all smiles again.

Leo carrying Sara’s suitcase with reverence and care. Joe whistling his little song, happily loading crates of supplies with a couple of Egyptian stevedores,

    “All ready to go,” says Joe picking up his bag enthusiastically.

Sara under her parasol smiles. Leo stares, wondering what complicity could have engendered this.

    “What did you say to him?” Aron asks, wondering too, at this about turn.

    “That you’ll tell him how proud you are of him,” Sara throws down the gauntlet.

    “What?! Here, now?” Aron has been roundly jousted.

The boat toots its imminent departure, smoke puffs from the chimney.

Aron sighs and goes over to Joe and despite his latent hostility, the deed is quickly done.

Leo brings Sara’s suitcase and she bids him goodbye very fondly, with a single kiss on his cheek.

    “If any bad thoughts about me ever passed through your head, it doesn’t matter,” she says. “I repeat it once again. It doesn’t matter,” and she continues on, to join Joe.

Leo’s expression, his eyes clouded with sorrow at Sara’s imminent departure with roguish Joe, and the continued pain of his friend Avshalom’s loss. 

Sara kisses Aron on both cheeks: “Goodbye dear brother. We’d better hurry if we are not to miss the boat.”

****

On the deck of the Monegam, Joe finally feels redeemed - and he is reunited with his confiscated arms. Ever since he was a child, he has felt rejection. A lonely orphan of the. Kishinev pogroms, brought up by family in Palestine who had children of their own and who had little time for his tantrums or high jinks. To feel the disapproval of Aron and Leo was terrible to him, and Sara’s rejection was the last straw. But he calms himself - after all he has got Sara to himself now.

Joe & Sara Depart on the Monegam

Sara with her parasol lifts her hand in a last farewell. Joe stands at her side with a big grin on his face. Aron on the quay hides his displeasure but consoles himself with the fact that at least Sara will keep the mutinous munitions man in order. The boat toots its departure, smoke puffs from her chimney. Aron waves one last time from the quay. He looks down at the silver watch on his wrist. He will never be parted from it and it will go with him to his death. His head is filled with all kinds of fears, but he limits himself to relief that Joe and Leo, those rival lovers are parted.

****

However, it is too soon for complacency. The Monegam reaches Atlit, only for a huge storm to blow them off course and prevent them landing. So near and yet so far! They proceed to Haifa, the storm still in full squall and they prepare to land in Cyprus. Sara is beside herself. She need to get back to work. How dare the weather scupper her most earnest plans! And the last thing she wants is to return to Egypt like a dog with its tail between its legs. 

The stormy seas sum up Sara's state of mind. A dense black cloud descends on her.

In Cyprus, Joe writes to Leo: ‘Forgive me that you found me in this bad mood. The whole situation is so complicated, and causes one to think so much. And what’s even worse, the more one thinks, the worse it gets. Again, the question arises: What are we doing all this for..? My head is whirling with worries, till I am nearly mad. It’s difficult, my friend, to grope in the dark.’

From Cyprus, they are indeed, forced to return to Port Said where Leo meets them, at Aron's bidding, to ensure that Sara gets safely home. After Joe has delivered his letter to Leo, the tension between them seems to lift a little. Joe even returns to Captain Lloyd to learn more about bridge busting. Leo however has never let go of his dreams of Sara and out of Joe’s vigilant gaze, he hands her a little notebook filled with expressions of deep and undying, love, with the dedication: ‘To Sara.’

But Sara finds herself tossed in a nightmare: Leo’s fervent wishes cannot be returned. And the delay in Cyprus and return to Port Said is hard to bear. She wants only to get home to continue her work.

‘Believe me, Leo,’ she writes if you are sad or depressed about me, you are to blame, not I, because I have remained who I always was and have not encouraged you.. My head aches so, and the boat is rocking so. If we meet again, we will try to speak at some length, if we have a chance. I’m certain that will not happen. You or Joe are bound to be in a bad mood, and will effect each other for the worse... And so if you see me approaching you, shaking your hand, hugging and kissing you, don’t think of me as a woman and that is my request. Don’t dare to think for a moment that I am doing it because you are a man and I, a woman. My kisses and embraces are instead of words. With them I can express better what is in my heart, because I am not good with words... You will understand this Leo, won’t you?’

And then she adds:‘Why has God cursed me like this? And why do I see everything so black?’

She writes to Aron that even her family, Alex, Rifka and Sam, in America, do not understand her: ‘They misunderstand my nature, will represent it as colourless. At all events they will make you believe that my attitude to the great catastrophe of Absa’s death, does not coincide with yours. But I wonder whether they will tell you that though my brain works differently, my heart responds the same... My spiritual struggles have perhaps been as acute as yours. I feel as though I were now living my sturm und drang period.’

****

The ‘love affairs’ - plural - do indeed threaten operations. Back home, there are continued rumours that Joe murdered Avshalom over a rivalry for Sara’s affections. Too ridiculous to contemplate! But Sara is condemned by many of the women of Zikhron. The Doctor’s wife has plenty to say on the subject, and the Gossips - those prim and proper ladies in their rustling black frocks, whisper loudly behind their hands, in harsh and unforgiving tones. The word ‘whore’ is even bandied about in one or two of the town’s less refined, drinking holes. Its is fortunate that no one confronts Sara directly when she at last gets home. She will remain busy as usual, in Zikhron and at the station and will have more than the townsfolk’s hypocritical morality on her mind.

**** 

Rocky Shore Atlit Night

A moonless night. The Station appears on the rocky shore. Sara, Joe and Leo on deck with Captain Smith and Leibel in the background. The wind is blowing. Another storm is brewing. They must hurry.

The little boat rowed by Abdullah, filled with supplies, guns and the battered suitcases of gold, rocks dangerously in the surf.

Joe gestures for Sara to hurry and they are lowered onto the rocking boat bound for the shore.

Leo waves. This time he has honoured his promise to Aron and Sara is safely home.

****

Seashore. Atlit. Dawn. As Sara's boots touch the rocky ground, she bends to kiss the earth. An age-old and eternal action made by so many on arrival in Eretz Israel. 

We follow Joe and Leibel with the dizzy motion of a hand-held camera, as they cart the heavy crates and suitcases. 

Sara & Izi on the Beach at Atlit

As the sky lightens, they are met by Izi, the mayor’s red-headed grandson.

    “Welcome home, Miss Sara!” he cries, as Joe heaves a crate  at him and Izi almost drops the heavy load.

Joe greets the young man with a hasty expletive implying urgency, danger and stupidity:
    
    “Be careful! There’s enough explosives in there to blow up half of  Jerusalem!”
 
Sara steadies Izi, who despite his near accident is beaming.

    “I’m getting married, Miss Sara!” he says proudly.

Sara smiles: “That’s good. We need a little happiness, dear Izi.”

They all hurry along the shore. Just as a man emerges out of the mist.

Joe pulls out his pistol: “Stop! Who is it!?”

    “It’s me!” says an agitated, Naaman. “Hurry! Things are bad, very bad.”

    “How bad?” asks Sara, fear in her voice.

Naaman, confirms Sara’s worst fears: “Bad, very bad - everyone’s asking questions - The whole town’s in uproar. And my Albanian fears for his life and needs to be got to safety.”

He waves his hands around wildly at the sacks of guns and gold: “And you’ll need to hide this stuff in case they come looking for us!”

**** 

Naaman & Joe Hide Provisions in a Cave

Naaman and Joe hide guns, provisions, medicines, quinine and explosives in a cave on the cliff.

Sara Counts out Gold Coins

By the light of a lantern, which casts sinister shadows on the rock wall, Sara counts out gold coins from the suitcases and puts them into small canvas bags.

A rustling sound at the entrance to the cave. Joe pulls out his gun as an agitated Zvi bursts into the cave.

    “We thought you’d all drowned!” he exclaims with the anger that comes from concern and days of anxiety.

    “No, we’re fine” says Sara smiling, even though she feels anything but fine.
    
    “What’s this?” Zvi says looking about uneasily.

Joe puts his gun away: “It’s only some ammo and money,” he says, yawning, while heaving another sack.

Zvi stares and grabs Sara’s hands:

    “You must go back at once! For your safety and ours! It’s only a matter of time before they find you.”

Sara is alert to her sibling’s concern but stung at his lack of support:

    “Certainly, dear brother - but you wouldn’t want us to take the gold back with us, would you?”

Zvi looks even more agitated at the thought.
    
    “Well, then, you can help us,” says his sister in her clear, even tone, that brooks no dissent.

**** 

Zvi in the Synagogue with Flour Sacks

The Main Street, Zikhron Ya’akov. We hear the sound of plaintive Hebrew prayers issuing from the Synagogue and the distant rumble of thunder from a leaden sky. Zvi’s glum face as he jogs up and down on a cart drawn by two donkeys, driven by Naaman, loaded with sacks of flour and kegs marked ‘salt herring’, as it struggles up the street and draws up outside the Synagogue.

Inside the Synagogue, men pray, their prayer shawls fluttering like sails in a gale, their faces, dark as those thunder clouds. Clouds of flour fill the air as Mayor Meir, Rabbi Kornfeld and Dr. Yaffe open the sacks. The grey canvas bags full of gold coins and the kegs marked salt herring, reveal their load of guns, and are quickly transferred to the cupboard of the Holy Ark. Rabbi Kornfeld shuts the Ark doors with a bang.

But soon after this, Zvi makes it quite clear that for his family’s sake, he wants nothing more to do with Nili or its operations. His relationship with Joe, who he blames for everything, deteriorates to the point where he can no longer be in Joe’s company at all. This  naturally, upsets Sara, more than she can say. Despite his many shortcomings, Joe is her right hand man, her last link with Avshalom, and the antagonism of her brother, not to mention, so many others, is hard to bear.

****

The Feinberg House, Hadera. A pretty but faded-looking woman, in her 60’s, Avshalom’s mother, Fanny/Fanya Feinberg-Belkind, sits with Nissim Rutman, Toba and Sara.

Fanny Feinberg-Belkind & Egyptian Chocolates

Fanny holds a very prettily decorated box of chocolates in her hands: “He sent chocolates? It’s not like Absa. He always wrote to us - ” she says.

    “He’s progressing wonderfully with his pilot’s training - in England - ” Sara says brightly.

Avshalom’s mother regards the gold and green box of chocolates clearly imprinted with the address of a well-known Cairo sweet shop.

    “Why doesn’t he write? And why are they Egyptian chocolates, not English ones?” she asks.

    “I shall ask Aron to get him to write,” Sara answers.  “At once.”

Nissim’s face - as Avshalom’s mother, sobbing into her hanky, offers the chocolates - there are no takers.

****

Aronson House, Zikhron Ya’akov. The rumours are growing and so is Toba's tummy. 

Nissim with pregnant Toba

Nissim with very pregnant Toba confront Sara who is tidying her papers.

    “Why don’t you tell us the truth, Sara?!” Nissim exclaims.

    “He’s dead isn’t he?” Toba states, rather than asks.    

    “And it’s your Lishansky, who’s responsible! Absa would never have gone into the desert without him!” declares Nissim.

Sara feels the enmity of her close friends and at her wits’ end, promises she will get a letter from Absa.

****

Later, that night, silhouetted by lamp light, Sara writes:

    ‘My dear Aron, I beg you, write a letter in his style, as if it’s from him - ’

****

Aron writing at his desk in the Hotel Continental: ‘My dear sister, A letter like that would be a lie, please don’t ask me to do it - You will simply have to placate everyone who asks. But how I wish you would come back to Cairo - ’

****

The Station, Atlit. Writing at her desk as day breaks, her face pale and haggard, Sara responds:
    
‘How can I leave now? With every ship that comes we continue to work as hard as we are able - but as long as we don’t tell the truth, Absa’s ghost hangs over us all - ’

It is only now that she writes the letter she has been meaning to write for months - in French - to her beloved siblings who are in America, to Alex, to bring him up to date on the sad matter - though Aron has already sent a short message on the subject - and to Rifka, trying to comfort her - after all, she had once been engaged to Absa and loved him too.

Sara's Letter to Rifka & Alex about Absa's Death

The letter of July 14, 1917, is a very long and heartfelt one:

‘My dear Rifkati and Alex! You cannot imagine, my beloved ones, how many times I have begun writing to you and stopped. I myself do not know why. I have a burning desire to speak to you and tell you many things, as we have not talked for many eons, but suddenly I feel some kind of opposition and do not write.  During my silence, which has lasted over a year and a half, we have experienced and undergone all kinds of happy events and also, or primarily, unhappy ones. But there is nothing that can be done, it seems this is the way of the world, not everything can happen together, and the suffering always overpowers the joyous occasions. I wish to begin, and I do not know what to call the beginning, so I will begin with the first which is most beloved. Regarding our dear Avshalom, I want to begin by telling you in detail what happened to him, because according to what I know from Rifka’s letter, you do not know any details about our deceased beloved one, and it is also so hard to talk about it because my heart is ripped to shreds, and because the sorrow is so extremely great and terrible. 

My dear ones, you knew our Avshalom very well, and you knew how much the young man wanted to make contact with the English over the question of our Jews and Jewish matters, and you know that he arrived, and when he returned to the Land of Israel hoping for good and for success, the connection was suddenly cut off, no one knows why that happened. Perhaps it is due to lack of trustworthiness of the people who go down to the beach and many other reasons, but when communication ceased, the beloved one suffered greatly, and began to look for ways to travel by land, if not by sea. And you are aware of his fate. His journey to the desert was solely a search for a way to meet up and to get close, he also went to Constantinople, and he was never able to rest and he chose the most dangerous ways, and even if people dared comment, it was of no use. And one day he decided together with Aron, that Aron would travel to Constantinople and attempt to continue from there to London and reach their destination. And that is what happened, and as you see, Aron finally arrived in Egypt, but it took a long time, the whole matter took six to eight months, and our beloved one lost patience and began once again to search for dangerous ways. Even though we pleaded with him, it was to no avail, as much as I begged him and showed him how dangerous the way is, and I saw in advance that he will lose his head in this manner, and it was impossible to deter him from his idea.

My dear ones, our tragedy is too great to bear, and it is extremely intense and deep. And our dear one went out into the desert with another friend who was prepared to endanger himself… and they set out, and on the way they encountered a patrol of Bedouins who shot at them and pursued them, and the dear one fell dead, the other was only injured in three places, and after much effort he reached the English station, and they transferred him to Egypt, where he met up with Aron, lay in hospital and recovered, and after he recovered Aron sent him here to work and continue our holy mission, as Avshalom had spilled his blood and gave up his young life for an idea which was incredibly holy to him. The sacrifice is too great, and even if we were to be successful in our work, and the salvation of Israel should come through such a sacrifice, believe me my dear ones that I would not desire our dear sacrifice. But this seems to be the fate of those who have aspirations for their nation and their land, and in addition, the beloved one went of his own volition, wholeheartedly, and he knew just how dangerous it was, no matter how much we talk and how many tears we shed, it will be insufficient to calm the heart, or satiate it, the suffering is very, very great, and why should I come and pour salt on both our wounds.

My dear child Rifka, you must be more miserable and suffering much more than all of us, but I feel you and am here together with you suffering and crying about your sad fate. My sister, you have no idea how much your beloved one and I connected during the time we were together, I was the only one with whom he could share what was in his heart, his thoughts and hopes, and I helped him a lot, I encouraged and strengthened him, and I am suffering very greatly from the tragedy. But can we come and complain before anyone? This is what our fate decreed for us, that we will not have the merit of seeing greatness and action from our dear one who aspired and suffered throughout his young life. But our constantly ongoing work will always serve as a reminder, and will be named after the beloved instigator, Avshalom. It will soon be six months since his death. 

He passed away on the 20th of the month of January. Believe me my dear ones that I am talking and writing about his death, yet it is still unclear to me and it is impossible to become accustomed to his passing. His family still know nothing, we do not want to tell them until after the war, as why should they suffer at a time when it is impossible to change or do anything.

I have a large role in the work here, and if we have to endanger ourselves, my dear ones, I don’t think of it. The work is dear and precious to me, you must understand. If our dear one would have been able to hear the good news, that we were promised the Land of Israel, what would he not do in sheer joy? And we have merited to see it due to his idea and his life which he risked. You are certainly aware of the situation of the deportation of our Jews from Jaffa, their poverty and suffering are inconceivable. Hundreds of people were simply destroyed to their very core, and people who did not know what aid was and who lived like princes, now need help. The poverty in the cities of Jerusalem, Tiberius and Safed is also horrendous. It is impossible to comprehend what has happened in our land. The produce this year was also very poor. The winter crop was completely unsuccessful, and there are those who claim that the hunger will be terrible this year. 

And now, my dear ones, regarding the Station. We have not received a penny from the American donors for over two years, at a time when other institutions received money from outside the country, and we did not receive a penny, it therefore seems that they simply decided not to believe in the Station… the only thing is for you to take action with publicity in order to send us money, money, because in such a time money is crucial.

Farewell to you and warm kisses, and greetings to all the American friends with a request to work more and more for the Station, paint the situation to be as bleak as possible, it will not be worse than the truth. And you my siblings, and especially Rifkale, keep strong, because your friend and beloved fell like one of the heroes, in his hope to save his nation and his land, we can be proud of such a friend, and we must bear the tragedy silently. 

Warm kisses and try to be happy my dear ones,
Farewell, your Sara.’

And it is indeed a farewell. The tragedy to come, like in any Greek drama cannot be halted by any gods.    

**** 

Sara takes Refuge in Work

But do not think for a minute that Sara’s sorrow renders her unable to work. Despite what she calls her black mood, she has never worked harder. Requests for detailed military information come in quick and fast and Sara answers them with dedication and alacrity. As ever, work is what saves her. At night when the Station is quiet, she turns to Aron’s systematic and diligent material of the last two decades, in the files of his big desk and on the shelves of his office. For the Engineers on the Front, she finds pictures and diagrams of geological formations to help them find that, all essential water, she locates records of air pressure  for the Air Force and Aron’s researches into malaria, provide the data which is relayed to the bacteriological laboratory behind the Front lines.

All of this proves indispensable. Allenby himself is shown some charts of seasonal malaria which help him plan his campaign. Something he never forgets is that a laboratory scientist tells him: ‘I think that is the reason why Richard the Lionheart never got to Jerusalem. His army was nearly destroyed by fever and he himself came down on the coast in September, when malignant malaria was at its height.’

****

All this is conveyed via Aron’s office in British Headquarters, Cairo, where the master spy sits at his desk with Sara’s reports while his very efficient Scottish secretary takes shorthand notes as he dictates.

We hear Sara’s voice over: “The Turks plan a surprise attack at Gaza - this week or very soon after - the Germans are warning them that there are spies in their midst - ”

 ****

The Refugee Committee demands that Sara hand over the British gold to them for distribution and HaShomer has plans of its own to threaten Sara and her fellow agents, fearing that the Turks will discover the spies and wreak vengeance on the entire Jewish community. Shochat and some of his men, ride to Atlit. They are all armed with the usual assortment of elderly guns, old-fashioned, ex Turkish army rifles and plenty of vituperative rhetoric.

Sara Makes Tea

Inside the Station, they find Sara making tea - real English tea - accompanied by a tartan box of Scottish shortbread, and Joe, who greets them with a brand new, very shiny, British rifle, aimed directly at the newcomers. This does nothing to placate an enraged Shochat and a confrontation is quick to break out.

    “You must stop all operations immediately!” says the angry HaShomer head, picking up the incriminating tea canister with its tell-tale, red and blue Union Jack.

    “We must await my brother’s orders before we do that,” Sara says, finishing her tea making, before offering some of that soothing beverage to the assembled rivals.

Her hospitality and calmness only enrage Shochat, all the more.
    
    “And you must hand over your gold coins to the Committee, wherever you’ve hidden them!”

He waves his arms around, as if expecting to find that handsome stash in the kitchen.

Joe, cocky and defiant as ever: “Now why should we do that, gentlemen?” he grins, dipping a delicious finger of shortbread into that English brew and munching it with much relish.

 **** 

A Posse of Vengeful Cowboys

The Watchman Settlement at Tel Adas. Shochat and his men, ride back into the settlement, through the stockaded entrance, like a posse of vengeful cowboys who have returned empty handed from a raid.
    
    “We must get rid of this little ‘mamzer’ ” - which translates as ‘bastard’ - “ before his actions bring us into the firing line,” says that sworn enemy of the Aronsons and of Nili. His determination to eliminate Joe, can wait no longer.

As it happens, when the Turks do eventually capture Joe, he gets his revenge - admittedly under torture - implicating twelve members of HaShomer in his ‘confession’.

Joe's last laugh, we might call it.

****