The Haj - Leon Uris [141]
It was the first time my father had confided in me in such an open and honest manner and I would never forget it. ‘I am already working on a plan,’ I said.
He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘I have come to depend on you. We spend far too much time conspiring and far too little time planning.’
‘I will not fail,’ I said. ‘Where are we going?’
The final part of our escape requires the help of our fictitious friend, Colonel Hakkar. You must write an order on Iraqi stationery to pass us through all lines and roadblocks. With your brothers dressed as Iraqi soldiers, we can succeed.’
‘I begin to see.’
‘When I was a boy about your age, we had a terrible plague in Tabah. I was sent to live with the Wahhabis. It was at the same time that Farouk, may Allah strike him blind, was taken in by Christians and taught to read. Our clan always moved from the Beersheba area in the summer and traveled along the Dead Sea. There is an ancient Jewish fort midway down the sea called the Masada. North of the Masada to where the sea ends near Jericho is an area filled with hundreds, perhaps thousands of caves—great caves, little caves, hidden caves, caves halfway up the cliffs. These caves have been a haven for smugglers, for great religious men, for defeated armies since time began. They are cool in the summer. Some are as large as a house. Most of them are only a mile or so inland from the sea.’
‘Can we drive a truck close to them?’
‘Only part of the way. We will carry everything on the rest of the way. We will need much rope to make slings and pulleys and to tie supplies to our backs. After we have emptied the truck, Kamal will drive me to East Jerusalem. It will not be difficult to get rid of a surplus army vehicle.’
‘What about fresh water?’ I asked, knowing the Dead Sea was very salty.
‘You are thinking,’ my father said. ‘There is a magnificent oasis and spring called En Gedi where our great King David hid from Saul. However, there is a kibbutz nearby and I am not certain if it is in Arab or Jewish hands.’
‘But don’t others know of these caves?’
‘Perhaps. However, no one goes back into that place without supplies and who else can do it? It is the Bedouin I am worried about. They will smell our first meal from a hundred miles away. That is why we must have arms.’
‘Father, I beg of you ... so long as we will be living for many months in a cave ... that ... I be allowed to bring some books.’
‘Books! Will you never change? Well, the villa we are so kindly living in is the home of a learned man who fled. Help yourself, so long as there is room in the truck. And don’t trick me by changing numbers. We need food more than books.’
‘I promise I will not trick you,’ I lied. ‘When do we tell Kamal, Omar, and Jamil of the plan?’
‘Two minutes before we put it into motion,’ he answered.
Figuring the supplies was a head-breaking task. I slept in little snatches day and night. The beautiful part was that I got to work with my father all the time. My brothers were suspicious of our long, isolated talks.
When I had compiled what we needed, I located everything in either the Iraqi quartermaster warehouse or the Red Crescent warehouse. I drew a map with the location of food, fuel, ropes—everything on the list. When the time would come to leave, we would not be delayed by having to search the warehouses blindly.
I brought my father several dozen cartons of cigarettes and in a single day he found not only a machine gun but two rifles, two hand-held submachine guns, ammunition, grenades, and dynamite.
I kept the plan simple. The day we were to execute it, it would be necessary to get Captain Umrum