(CHAPTER XI)
RETURN TO JERUSALEM
". . . the most stupid, the most cowardly, the most
inefficient soldiers I have ever seen. The Germans
and I gave the Arabs many good ideas to destroy
the Jewish villages. They are afraid of anything
new. They say it will cost them too much money.
They are waiting for Allah to help them!"
Nazar Chalawitch
Holy Warrior from Yugoslavia
OUR truck, with a dozen assorted Arabs on board, raced toward Gaza.
"Duck your head. You'll be shot."
"I'm not afraid of the Jews, Moustafa."
"Don't be crazy. They have already put a bullet in my foot!"
I ducked, joining the terror-stricken Holy Warriors who
cowered between the crates of merchandise like corraled
sheep. I raised my head for a good look at the terror. A mile
off the road were the ruins of a kibbutz, with only two buildings left partially standing. Desert surrounded the wreckage.
The settlement showed as much life as a neglected cemetery.
Actually, this was heroic Kibbutz Kfar Darom, one of the
southernmost of the Jewish settlements. A shipwreck in the
desert sea, it served as an invaluable observation post for
troops and supply movements, and sprang to life only when
attacked.