The Haj - Leon Uris [124]
By Allah’s grace, the entire family made it to the Clock Tower. Many of the villagers were already milling about in the crowd. I gave them instructions about the time, place, and name of the boat and this was whispered from ear to ear. They then moved out, deftly avoiding the searching eyes of Kaukji’s soldiers.
I had checked out the Great Mosque across the street earlier. Many people from many villages had crushed into it, seeking refuge. As our villagers began to drift off, I ordered my family to go into the mosque, lose themselves in the crowd, and wait for me. The square was still crowded, but as it turned dark many of the soldiers drifted toward the Manshiya district and gunfire between the two cities started up.
It turned late. I was stricken with fear. Just as I was on the verge of quitting my post, I spotted Mr. Bassam. He walked past me and, after waiting for a moment, I followed. He ducked into a narrow alleyway and I went after him. He was in shadows. I could not see him.
‘Ishmael.’
‘Yes.’
‘Is your family safe?’
‘Yes, they are hiding in the mosque.’
‘Good. I have taken your father to St. Peter’s Church, past the lighthouse. Do you know where it is?’
‘I am sure.’
‘Find your family. Go to the back entrance. Brother Henri is a Christian Arab and a good friend. They have agreed to give you sanctuary.’
‘Are you all right?’ I asked.
‘I am not sure. I believe my home and store are being watched. I may try to slip on the boat. I am not sure.’
With that he was gone.
Our entire family had two tiny monk’s cells, but from the windows we could see the port and the sea and up the coast to Tel Aviv. Late in the afternoon, we saw Mr. Harissiadis’s boat, the Kleopatra, chug into the harbor.
I slipped out of the church and worked my way down the hill to the lighthouse near where it was docked. Everyone from Tabah sat about, jammed close to the dock. There must have been a hundred of Kaukji’s men moving through them, shaking them down, roughing people up, searching for Haj Ibrahim. There were deliberate delays by port ‘authorities’ when they could not find my father. Mr. Harissiadis ranted that he must get under way.
Then the word came that all hell had broken out on the front between Tel Aviv and Jaffa. The Iraqis were called away and the villagers flooded aboard the ship, cramming every inch of deck space. There was no way I could risk having the family make a last-minute try to board, so we were stranded in Jaffa. At last the Kleopatra pulled away from dockside. I ran up the hill toward the church as the ship moved below me. It reached the end of the quay and headed into open sea.
I went back to St. Peter’s. From our window, the family could see tracer bullets streaking back and forth between the two lines. The fury of the fighting told us that this was not another night of sniper fire. A full-scale battle was under way.
We were able to make out the Kleopatra until it fell below the horizon with the sun. And then ... they were gone.
16
THE IRGUN, ACTING SOLELY on its own, had launched an all-out attack on the Manshiya district of Jaffa. They had neither permission, cooperation, nor coordination from the Haganah, but sought a spectacular victory to gain equity. A conglomerate of Arab militias were well entrenched and beat back attack after attack. The Irgun fought hard, capturing some houses on the outskirts of the district, but again their lack of formal military training and leadership hindered them. They had neither the plan of execution nor the wherewithal to consolidate their gains and by dawn they had been driven back to Tel Aviv.
In order to stave off an ignoble defeat, the Irgun appealed to the Haganah for help. As battles heightened all over Palestine, the two Jewish forces engaged in more and more irritating little conflicts. A grand showdown about who had the authority in the Yishuv would not be long in coming.
After a quick meeting, the