Exodus - Leon Uris [207]
The intercom buzzer went off on Bradshaw’s desk.
“General Tevor-Browne has arrived.”
Bradshaw and Tevor-Browne mumbled cold greetings. Tevor-Browne was one of the few pro-Jews in official circles. It was he who had predicted the end of the mandate in this very office at the onset of the Exodus incident and had pleaded that the Exodus be allowed to sail before the hunger strike. Tevor-Browne had always felt that the Jews and not the Arabs deserved British support for the reason that the Jews were faithful allies and could be depended upon and the Arabs could not. He had been for the building of a Jewish Commonwealth nation out of Palestine.
General Tevor-Browne’s thinking could not sway Bradshaw and the Chatham House crowd or the Colonial Office. Even at this hour they did not have the courage to reverse their drastic mistake but were standing ready to sink with it. The fear of Arab blackmail over the oil fields and the Suez Canal prevailed.
“I have been reading the summaries,” Bradshaw said.
Tevor-Browne lit a cigar. “Yes, very interesting. The Jews certainly aren’t obliging us by marching backwards into the sea.”
Bradshaw tapped his pudgy fingers on the desk top, resenting the general’s “I told you so,” attitude. “I must give a recommendation in a few weeks.”
“I don’t want your needling implications, Sir Clarence. I wanted to speak over the advisability of retaining Haven-Hurst. I think the time has come to get tougher with the Jews.”
“Haven-Hurst is fine for what you want—unless you wish to obtain the services of some SS generals in the war crimes prisons. We still maintain a civil government in Palestine, you know ... we do have a high commissioner.”
Bradshaw turned crimson under the insults. He managed to hold his temper, a temper which was growing shorter and more violent each day. “I think the time has come to place greater authority with Haven-Hurst.” He handed a sheet of paper over the desk to Tevor-Browne.
It was a letter addressed to the British commander in Palestine, General Sir Arnold Haven-Hurst, KBE, CB, DSO, MC. “The situation has degenerated to such a state that unless means can be recommended for immediate stabilization by you I will be compelled to suggest the matter be turned over to the United Nations.”
“Well said, Bradshaw,” Tevor-Browne said. “I am certain Haven-Hurst will have some rather interesting suggestions if you are a devotee of horror stories.”
SAFED, PALESTINE
The retirement order came through for Brigadier Bruce Sutherland quickly and quietly after the Exodus affair. He moved to Palestine and settled down on Mount Canaan near Safed, the ancient city at the entrance to the Huleh Valley in northern Galilee.
At long last Bruce Sutherland seemed to find a bit of peace and some respite from the years of torment since the death of his mother. For the first time he was able to sleep at night without fear. Sutherland purchased a magnificent small villa on Mount Canaan three miles from Safed proper. The air was the purest in Palestine and a constant fresh breeze kept summer’s heat from fully penetrating the area. His home was of white plaster with red tiled roof and granite floor. It was open and breezy and tastefully furnished in Mediterranean décor. Beyond his rear patio there was a terraced hillside of four full dunams of land which he converted into a lush garden crowned with four hundred Galilee rosebushes.
The rear garden afforded a breath-taking view of Safed across the valley. From here the city appeared to be a perfect cone in shape. At the wide base of Safed’s hill were the beginnings of winding roads which fought up the peak to the acropolis on top, some three thousand feet in the air. Like so many of the hilltops in Palestine, the acropolis of Safed had once been a citadel in