The Haj - Leon Uris [262]
The first night was long and sleepless as we gleaned the airwaves for any kind of news. Everyone was exhausted but euphoric on that second morning. Then, a faint taste of ashes, a first bewilderment. Cairo began to modify its victory announcements. The French and British were bombing hospitals and schools. Those advances into Israel claimed on the first day were now being reported as ‘fierce’ battles in which Egypt was ‘defending’ positions it had previously reported as having captured.
The craziness around us screeched to a halt. Where was Syria ? Where was Jordan? Why had they not joined the battle?
By the end of the third day the truth could no longer be contained. Minute by minute, hour by hour, stories and rumors flooded in.
Israel had routed the Egyptian Army!
The Jews had swept over the Sinai and in less than ninety hours crushed Nasser’s legions and sat on the eastern bank of the Canal.
Nasser screamed foul!
On the fourth night of the war all illusions were shattered. I had returned to the dig at Mount Nebo and was awakened by a radio call from Dr. Mudhil.
‘Ishmael, you must return to Jericho at once. A panic is starting to sweep through the camps. Ibrahim cannot be found. Find him and bring him to my office. It is urgent!’
It was no small task to pick up the desert track in the darkness and link up with the main highway. Although distances were short, it took me several hours to return. The Allenby Bridge was alive with Legion soldiers. Fortunately, my documents were from a high minister and my comings and goings to and from Mount Nebo were known by the guard, and I crossed over with only minimal problems. Yet it was past midnight when I reached Aqbat Jabar.
Rumors that the Jews were on the way to conduct a massacre wailed from mouth to mouth. A state of near-hysteria had seized the camp. People were running about confused while others were packing. Oh Lord, it was the recurrence of a nightmare!
There was a place on Mount Temptation where I knew that Ibrahim meditated. I had shared it with him on many occasions. I ran through the camp and fought my way up into the hills with my flashlight darting off the stone walls.
‘Father!’ I called frantically.
The only response was my own echo.
‘Father! Father! Father!’ I screamed.
My light hit him. He sat stilled, obviously numbed by events. Oh, his eyes were beyond weary. For the first time I realized that his beard had gone almost completely white. He stared up at me, but not seeing. Tears fell down his cheeks.
‘Father ...’ I panted.
‘Is it over?’
‘Yes.’
‘Allah!’ he moaned. ‘This is the most horrible moment of them all. I let myself be taken in. I listened like any other poor dumb fellah. I allowed my brain to be twisted. Ibrahim! You are the worst of fools! Nasser!’ he cried and spat on the ground.
‘Please, Father, you have no time to berate yourself now. The people are overcome with fear. They are running around in circles screaming that the Jews are coming to slaughter them. Families are packing up to flee. Dr. Mudhil received messages. You must come with me at once to his office.’
‘Run! Why? There are three thousand fedayeen here to protect them.’
‘The fedayeen have fled.’
By the time we arrived at Dr. Mudhil’s office, Ibrahim had gained control of himself. It was past four in the morning. Clans were already forming up in Jericho to bolt at daybreak. We entered through the workroom. A small light beckoned us from his office. Nuri Mudhil’s twisted body was at the window. He stared down at the growing fright in the streets. On the other side of the room a man leaned against a bookcase.
‘Colonel Zyyad!’
‘Yes, it is I, Haj Ibrahim.’
Oh, how Father wanted to kill him! With anxiety, I watched his hands open and close. I stepped between them.
‘Your boy is clever,’ Zyyad said. ‘All right, here it is. The Egyptian Army is defeated. King Husain wisely declined to get involved in Nasser