Mitla Pass - Leon Uris [2]
Both the Soviet Union and America were bogged down in their own problems. An American presidential election was to take place in a few days, and traditionally it was a good time to catch Washington off guard.
Revolts against the Russians were brewing in Poland and Hungary. The students in Budapest had rioted and the unrest was growing. Israeli intelligence estimated a Russian tank force would enter Budapest in a matter of days.
Herzog reckoned these events could give Israel a slight advantage. Russia and America might be slow to react to the Israeli attack on Egypt. If Israel could stall diplomatically for three days, her forces might reach the Canal and Israel’s part of the war would be over.
But America was certain to be outraged that her two closest allies, England and France, would initiate military action without advising them. As for the Soviets, they had to put on a barking show for their Egyptian clients.
“Is there anything at all we haven’t covered, Yakov? Anything ... anything ...”
Herzog pointed to the document setting Operation Kadesh into motion.
“Your signature,” he said.
Ben-Gurion would not quit, gleaning for the stray, minute detail that might have been overlooked. It all boiled down to the same thing. Gamal Abdel Nasser, the Egyptian president, was on a heady binge. He had seized the Suez Canal and evicted the British and French. He had closed the Strait of Tiran, at the tip of the Sinai Peninsula, to Israeli shipping. He had turned the Gaza Strip into one enormous terrorist base which violated the Israeli border hourly. He had massed a huge army in the Sinai armed with a larder filled with Russian weapons. The bottom line was that Israel had no choice other than military action—with or without the British and French.
He scribbled his name on the paper. His nation was at war!
“Anything else?” he asked.
Herzog put before him a memo requiring initialing.
“What is this?”
“A small piece of business. Permission for Gideon Zadok to go into the Sinai with a forward unit. He has had a standing request that if there was ever to be a major action, to be allowed to join it as an observer. Research for his book.”
“Am I mistaken, or didn’t he go on the Kalkilia raid?”
“He did,” Herzog answered. “Both Zechariah and Ben Asher told me he conducted himself very well under fire.”
“How is his intelligence clearance?” B.G. asked.
“Early during his trip here, we realized he was in a position to gain very valuable information to pass to the Americans. Both Beham and Pearlman fed him false intelligence on the Ramon Rocket and the atomic project at the Haifa North Plant. The kind of data we gave him would be easy to trace if he had turned it over to the Americans. Our boys have no qualms about him as a security risk and I personally give him my vote, but I believe Natasha is in the best position to judge.”
“Natasha?”
“Gideon Zadok is family,” she said. “He’s been on five or six border and desert patrols with units of the Lion’s Battalion. They swear by him, as well.”
“So, why not,” Ben-Gurion said. “He’s a good boy. I like him. He has funny ideas about not settling in Israel. I’ll change his mind about that. But ... who knows, he might write us an important book.” The Old Man scribbled his initials on the memo. “Who are you assigning him to?”
“I believe,” Natasha said, “if Gideon knew about the plans, he’d choose to be dropped with the Lions at Mitla Pass.”
“That’s one part of this I don’t like,” Herzog interjected. “He is an American, after all. If we sent him back to Eisenhower in a wooden box it could create an ugly incident.”
B.G. pondered. “We are entitled to a poor man’s Hemingway. Send him with the Lions. He’s a writer. He should be in the action. God knows he doesn’t write like Hemingway, but I hear he drinks as well.”
“I can vouch for that,” Natasha said.
“Don’t get yourself broken up with this boy,” the Old Man said.
“I already have,” she answered.
GIDEON
HERZLIA, ISRAEL