Page 122 - big friday
P. 122
The final telegraph message from Gush Etzion:
“Tonight we shall no longer be here”
must certainly know: we will return, and he will go back to tending to his gardens.
At 9:30am there is a signal from Ein Tzurim: the Red Cross has just arrived there and
in Revadim. This is encouraging: they will complete the surrender over there, and then
come to us. We wait until noon, and – nothing. Suddenly, a muted explosion causes the
air to tremble. Once again an Arab has trodden upon a landmine. Immediately, the air
is once again full of gunshots from every sort of weapon – only this time the Arabs are
shooting with joy, in honor of their victory. Thousands of bullets are wasted; it is hard to
understand: from where did they obtain so much ammunition?
In the afternoon I help Dr. Windesberg to remove four large pieces of shrapnel from the
arm of Aryeh K., a member of Kibbutz Kfar Etzion; afterwards I go out onto the balcony
and see a large, black pillar of smoke billowing from the direction of Revadim. There is
no doubt: the Arabs have invaded the empty kibbutz and commenced their pillaging and
destruction. I am still watching this dismal scene with sadness when Moshe, the regional
commander, invites me to join him. I go with him, a red Magen David Adom ribbon on
the sleeve of my coat, first-aid kit and water-bottle over my shoulder, while Moshe explains
what is going on: I have to go out of the kibbutz, call over one of the Arab commanders,
and find out where the Red Cross personnel are. We approach the gate. The barrier is still
standing in place, and the boys at the adjacent position are at attention. At a distance of a
hundred meters from the gate sits a group of Arabs, waiting for the moment they can enter
120 The Friday That Changed Destiny
“Tonight we shall no longer be here”
must certainly know: we will return, and he will go back to tending to his gardens.
At 9:30am there is a signal from Ein Tzurim: the Red Cross has just arrived there and
in Revadim. This is encouraging: they will complete the surrender over there, and then
come to us. We wait until noon, and – nothing. Suddenly, a muted explosion causes the
air to tremble. Once again an Arab has trodden upon a landmine. Immediately, the air
is once again full of gunshots from every sort of weapon – only this time the Arabs are
shooting with joy, in honor of their victory. Thousands of bullets are wasted; it is hard to
understand: from where did they obtain so much ammunition?
In the afternoon I help Dr. Windesberg to remove four large pieces of shrapnel from the
arm of Aryeh K., a member of Kibbutz Kfar Etzion; afterwards I go out onto the balcony
and see a large, black pillar of smoke billowing from the direction of Revadim. There is
no doubt: the Arabs have invaded the empty kibbutz and commenced their pillaging and
destruction. I am still watching this dismal scene with sadness when Moshe, the regional
commander, invites me to join him. I go with him, a red Magen David Adom ribbon on
the sleeve of my coat, first-aid kit and water-bottle over my shoulder, while Moshe explains
what is going on: I have to go out of the kibbutz, call over one of the Arab commanders,
and find out where the Red Cross personnel are. We approach the gate. The barrier is still
standing in place, and the boys at the adjacent position are at attention. At a distance of a
hundred meters from the gate sits a group of Arabs, waiting for the moment they can enter
120 The Friday That Changed Destiny
