Exodus - Leon Uris [105]
Hunger Strike/ Hour #40
Ari Ben Canaan stared at his lieutenants. He looked into the somber faces of Joab, David, Zev, and Hank Schlosberg.
Zev, the Galilee farmer, spoke up first. “I am a soldier. I cannot stand by and watch children starve to death.”
“In Palestine,” Ari snapped, “youngsters this same age are already fighters in Gadna.”
“It is one thing to fight and it is another to starve to death.”
“This is only another way of fighting,” Ari said.
Joab Yarkoni had worked with Ari for many years and had served with him in World War II. “I have never gone against you, Ari. The minute one of these children dies this whole thing is liable to boomerang on us.”
Ari looked over to Hank Schlosberg, the American captain. Hank shrugged. “You’re the boss, Ari, but the crew is getting jittery. They didn’t bargain for this.”
“In other words,” Ari said, “you want to surrender.”
Their silence confirmed it.
“David, what about you? I haven’t heard from you.”
David, a scholar, was steeped in the Torah and in the holy books. He had a closeness to God that none of the rest of them had and they respected it.
“Six million Jews died in gas chambers not knowing why they died,” he said. “If three hundred of us on the Exodus die we will certainly know why. The world will know too. When we were a nation two thousand years ago and when we rebelled against Roman and Greek rule we Jews established the tradition of fighting to the last man. We did this at Arbela and Jerusalem. We did this at Beitar and Herodium and Machaerus. At Masada we held out against the Romans for four years and when they entered the fort they found us all dead. No people, anywhere, have fought for their freedom as have our people. We drove the Romans and the Greeks from our land until we were dispersed to the four corners of the world. We have not had much opportunity to fight as a nation for two thousand years. When we had that opportunity at the Warsaw ghetto we did honor to our tradition. I say if we leave this boat and willingly return to barbed-wire prisons then we will have broken faith with God.”
“Are there any further questions?” Ari said.
Hunger Strike/ Hour #42
In the United States, South Africa, and England mass prayer meetings were being held in synagogues, and in many churches there were prayers for the safety of the children on the Exodus.
Hunger Strike/ Hour #45
The Jews in Argentina began to fast in sympathy with the children aboard the Exodus.
Hunger Strike/ Hour #47
It was getting dark as Kitty boarded the Exodus. The stench was overpowering. All over the deck, in the lifeboats, on the superstructure she saw the crush of humanity. Everyone was lying down and absolutely motionless to conserve energy.
“I want to see those children who have passed out,” she said.
David led her to the bow of the ship where there were three rows of unconscious children, sixty in number. David knelt and held his lantern close to the bodies as Kitty moved from one to the other, feeling their pulses and looking into the pupils of their eyes. Half a dozen times she thought she would faint as her heart pounded and she rolled over a child who looked like Karen.
David led her around the packed deck, stepping over the prostrate bodies. The children stared listlessly at her with dazed eyes. Their hair was matted and dirt caked their faces.
David led her down the steep ladder onto the hold. She nearly vomited as the stink enveloped her. In the half light she saw the ghastly sight of the children packed in shelves one atop the other.
On the deck of the hold they lay piled against each other. She found Karen in a corner, enmeshed in a tangle of arms and legs. Dov was asleep next to her. They lay on a pile of rags and the deck was slimy beneath them.
“Karen,” she whispered. “Karen, it’s me, Kitty.”
Karen’s eyes fluttered open. There were huge black circles beneath them and her lips were caked dry. She was too weak to sit up.
“Kitty?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
Karen held her arms open and Kitty held her tightly