Philadelphia Is in Jordan
367
that the king was at his desk even before that hour and received callers as early as six o'clock in the morning.
After retiring in the company of my four strange roommates, I was awakened suddenly by the racket of anti-aircraft
guns and the muffled thud of falling bombs. It was past four
a.m. My companions were already up, chattering excitedly.
Jumping into my trousers, I ran out. The grounds were filled
with men and women gaping at the skies—witnesses to the
first air raid in history upon this ancient city. We heard the
drone of Israeli planes circling overhead, dropping bombs,
which must have been small because they caused no extraordinary noise, certainly nothing compared to what the Arab
Legion had rained upon the New City. The Israeli bombs
were landing somewhere on the rim of the canyon wall around
Amman. Sleepy, I went back to bed.
FACING ARAB MUSIC
THE Israeli raid had caught napping not only the Arab Legion, but also the huge British Royal Air Force base maintained a few miles away for just such emergencies. The effect
of the raid was electrifying; it struck terror into the hearts of
the people of Jordan. Here was undeniable evidence that the
Jew was not only fighting back against the Legion, but, by
bombing Glubb Pasha's headquarters, now dared to defy the
combined might of the British and the Arabs. The bombing
was an overwhelming psychological victory for Israel.
Shortly after noon I left my room and passed a long, fully
equipped caravan of Iraqi soldiers on their way to fight Israel. Then I ran into Jim and Bob.
''Haven't the police looked you up?" Jim asked.
"Not yet."
"They will. They've told us to get out today. We're leaving."