288
CAIRO TO DAMASCUS
"Where were the snipers?"
"On the Old City wall," the sentry said. "How could they
miss seeing you in your bright shirt? You had better come
with us. . . ."
I had no difficulty in clearing myself with the Jewish authorities. But I could not answer their query: "Why did you
do it? Don't you know that the field was mined, that Arab
snipers are everywhere? Why did you do it?"
"I don't know," I kept saying. "But I feel better now . . .
calmer . . . relaxed!"
"Last night one of you Americans tried to walk to the Arab
lines. Today it's you. Who will it be tomorrow? Must we have
special MP's to watch over you Americans?"
". . . CONTINUE TO STAND FAST"
JERUSALEM was a no-man's land, a city detached from the
rest of the world, suspended amid the Judean hills and left to
shift for itself. Literally nothing went out: nothing came in
save what was brought in a tiny Piper Cub plane that sneaked
in nightly from Tel Aviv—probably carrying confidential papers
and the most urgently needed supplies—and landed on an emergency airstrip in the New City outskirts. Thousands of letters
with the bright new Israeli stamps lay in bundles in the post
office. Morale-boosting posters with Biblical verses appeared
on the billboards: "For I will defend this city to save it." Another: "In that day it shall be said to Jerusalem, Fear thou
not: and to Zion, let not thine hands be slack. ... for I will
make you a name and a praise among all the people of the
earth, when I turn back your captivity. . . ." From Tel Aviv
Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion exhorted: "It is absolutely
essential that Jewish Jerusalem shall continue to stand fast.
Be
strong
and
of
good
cheer."
How much longer could the Jerusalemites take it? Would