180
CAIRO TO DAMASCUS
ing my fingertips first to my heart, then to my lips, my forehead. He did the same in token of his respect toward me.
"I shall remember you in my prayers to Allah," he said.
UNHOLY CITY
LATE in the afternoon I met Moustafa in Deir Aboutor. He
was glum.
"What's the matter?"
"Castel. The Jews got Castel back early this morning,"
Moustafa said.
Overnight the fortunes of war had changed. With the capture of Castel the Jews had opened the road to Tel Aviv, and
hundreds of convoys poured into Jerusalem with sorely needed
food, medical supplies, and arms. The Arabs later recaptured
Castel, but that brief respite helped Jerusalem immensely in
this period.
"What are we going to do now, Moustafa?"
"Faris and T are going back to Cairo to buy heavy guns. We
need them badly."
I thought quickly. I would prefer to remain in Jerusalem
and wait for Moustafa and Faris to return. But the idea of
running guns from Egypt to Palestine excited and challenged
me. Where were the Arabs getting their guns? Who was supplying them? How would they smuggle them into Palestine?
And what role was the Mufti—in Cairo—playing? I wanted
desperately to meet him. . . . I spoke up:
"I'll come along. Remember our pledge: wherever you go,
I follow."
It took several days for Faris to borrow capital to pay for the
guns he expected to buy, and to make other arrangements. In
the meantime Captain Zaki and the other Green Shirts we
had left in Beersheba had managed to hitch-hike to Deir