A Week of Agony: A Consul Is Murdered
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liked it so much that he had said: "If I can aid you in any
way, let me know." I could only reach him by telephoning an
unlisted number and asking for "Walter." I had no idea who
he was, actually, for most Jewish officials still maintained great
secrecy about themselves.
Despite the siege the intra-Jerusalem phone system functioned smoothly. Over the telephone Walter told me to meet
him in the Jewish Agency Building.
"I've had enough," I said bluntly, when I saw him. "I want
your help in arranging with the Haganah to let me cross to
the Arab side at night."
Walter laughed out loud. "Why not ask for an introduction
to the Mufti?"
"That's just whom I'm going to try to see," I explained. "I
want to see how the Arabs are taking the beating you've been
giving them. I want to see if they're still so confident of victory. I want to see if I can learn just how much the British
are backing them. And I ought to study the other Arab countries before I leave the Middle East. Besides," I pleaded—for
without Walter's help I'd continue to be stuck here—"the
Old City Jews can't hold out. I want to be on the Arab side
to cover the surrender."
"You may never get there alive. There are snipers—"
"Snipers can't shoot at night."
"But mines blow up at night, and sentries can shoot without asking."
"I must get going or go crazy!"
"Phone me in a few days," Walter said. "I'll sec."
I phoned him three times, and on the fourth try he asked
me to meet an armored truck at a street corner. Soldiers of the
Haganah would pick me up.
"After that you're on your own. Have you made arrangements for your property in case you're , . . delayed?" Walter
asked cheerfully.
I met the truck as planned and was driven to Haganah headquarters on Deir Aboutor. The dwellings hadn't suffered: it