(CHAPTER XII)
WITH THE ARABS IN JERUSALEM
From the lampposts hang all the RABBIS
But
hang
HERTZOG
highest
of
all
And when you have hung all the Jew-boys
Then blow up their damned WAILING WALL.
AMO [Arab Military Organization]
I STOOD under a tree on the Hill of Evil Counsel on an incomparably beautiful and clear May morning, each Jerusalem
landmark radiantly etched against a cloudless sky. Sheep
grazed in the olive grove below me—guarded by an Arab in
battle dress, rifle on lap, grenades dangling from his belt. In
the heavens, God was in His glory. On earth hate reigned
supreme. The whine of snipers' bullets was constant, like the
drone of a giant mosquito. It was the season for mating, but
shells and the rattle of machine-guns had driven off the birds.
Jerusalem was beginning to fall apart as a city, disintegrating. Mail delivery had stopped. The railroad yard was deserted.
The magistrates had fled: the courts and police stations were
closed. Law and order was in the hands of local committees.
You were condemned, imprisoned, or shot by vigilante gangs.
Thieving was normal and went unpunished. It began with a
deserted home, and continued with the theft of British army
and government property: office furniture, files, furnaces,
doors, windowpanes. Vehicles—trucks, jeeps, armored cars,
even post-office vans—were stolen unless under guard.