Exodus - Leon Uris [257]
“It does to me too, Kitty. Everything I’ve ever learned in my life in the service tells me that the Jews cannot win. Yet when you see what they have done with this land you are not a realist if you do not believe in miracles.”
“Oh, Bruce ... if I only could believe that way.”
“What an army these Jews have! Boys and girls without guns, without rank and uniform, and without pay. The Palmach commander is all of thirty years of age and his three brigade commanders are all under twenty-five. But there are things no military man counts that the Arabs must reckon with. The Jews are willing to lose every man, woman, and child to hold what they have. How much blood are Arabs willing to pay?”
“Can they win? Do you really believe it?”
“Call it divine intervention, if you will, or maybe ... let us say that the Jews have too many Ari Ben Canaans.”
Kitty returned to Gan Dafna the next day. She was surprised to find Jordana Ben Canaan awaiting her in her office. The redheaded sabra girl was ill at ease.
“What do you want, Jordana?” Kitty asked coolly. “I’m going to be very busy.”
“We learned what you did for Ari,” Jordana mumbled awkwardly, “and I want to tell you how grateful I am.”
“It seems that your intelligence system is getting information through again. I am sorry I had to delay my departure.”
Jordana blinked but did not answer.
“Don’t take this personally,” Kitty said; “I would have done the same for a wounded dog.”
Kitty made plans to leave. Then Dr. Lieberman induced her to remain an extra few weeks. Extra personnel had been brought in and needed training to handle a hundred more children who had been smuggled into the country by Aliyah Bet. Housing was being put up as quickly as possible. Many of the new children were in bad shape, having been in DP camps for more than two years.
Once more she made her travel plans. Soon there were but two days left before she and Karen were to depart from Gan Dafna and Palestine.
At the end of August in the year 1947 the UNSCOP announced its majority and minority plans from Geneva. Each of the plans called for partition into separate Arab and Jewish entities with Jerusalem to be an international territory. There was no doubt as to the moral issue, for the United Nations Special Committee on Palestine called for the immediate immigration of six thousand Jews a month from the DP camps in Europe and the resumption of land sales to Jews.
The Jews had begged that the Negev Desert be added to their state. The Arabs had millions of square miles of undeveloped wastelands. The Jews wanted this small piece of a few thousand square miles in the hope that they could redeem it. The United Nations committee agreed.
Weary from a half century of heartbreak and sellout, the Yishuv Central and World Zionists announced acceptance of the compromise. The partitioned area, even with the Negev Desert, was an abortion of a state. It was, in fact, three strips of territory linked together by narrow corridors, resembling a chain of sausages. The Arabs had three strips of territory, larger in area, also linked by corridors. The Jews lost their eternal city, Jerusalem. They kept the Sharon and the parts of the Galilee they had pulled out of swamplands. The Negev was wasteland. What was the use of fighting it further? It was a monstrosity but they accepted.
The Jews answered.
So did the Arabs. The partition would mean war, they said.
Despite the Arab threats, the UNSCOP resolved to present the partition plan to the General Assembly of the United Nations in New York in mid-September.
Every last detail had been taken care of. Again it was the eve of departure for Kitty and for Karen. At dawn Bruce Sutherland would drive them to the Lydda airport, and in the evening they would fly out to Rome. The heavy trunks had already been shipped ahead by boat. The cottage was ready to be vacated.
Kitty sat at her desk in her office with the final folders to be put away into