SINAI, EGYPT, AND ASHDOT YAACOV, ISRAEL
June 1, 1967
The tank column idled as the gunner of the lead tank attached a metal cable to an armored personnel carrier that had sunk to its axle in the sand. A dozen infantry, their faces swathed in khaki bandannas, caked in sweat and dust, jeered their driver, who gave them the finger. It was the hottest day so far, ninety-six degrees, and they itched and stank. The infantry captain jumped onto the tank to confer with its commander. Both wore helmets and dust goggles, their faces grimy, but their eyes lit up. “Ido!” “Arie!”
The brothers-in-law slapped each other’s shoulders, bumped helmets. “Hurry up and wait, the usual,” Arie complained. “We’ve had two singers, one dance troupe, and half-a-dozen pep talks, all we want is to get it over with. What do you think? We’ll get a chance to screw ’em?”
“Who knows?” Ido said. “Eshkol can’t decide, half the cabinet wants to get rid of him. Maybe Dayan will come in, at least as defense minister. Watch out for that. If he does, it’s a go. But I tell you something, it won’t be easy, at least, not where we were.”
“What do you mean, where you were?”
“Over there,” Ido said, raising his chin toward Egypt. “Five days. Recon.”
“Inside? Where was that?”
“Near Um Cataf. The Germans helped set it up for the Egyptians in the Fifties. Minefields, pillboxes, trenches, barbed wire for miles, thousands of the bastards, They’re waiting for us. We’d do better to go round it.”
“What did you see?”
“Not for your ears, my brother.”
“Where are you heading to now?”
“Back up north. The Golan.”
“Aha. I heard about your ‘up north.’ How is Alice? I wish I was twenty again. You did the deed?”
“Not for your ears, my brother!”
Arie laughed, then looked down sharply, pointing to his earpiece as it came to life. The stuck half-track lurched out of its desert trap onto firmer ground and the gunner ran back with the cable. Arie spoke into his mouthpiece and tapped Ido on the shoulder: “Stay safe, brother.” Ido jumped to the ground. As Arie’s Sherman tank swung forward in a billow of smoke and sand, his heart clenched at the sudden thought of Tamara. It isn’t over, no way. He saluted her little brother, and his tank column rolled south, toward the enemy.
Facing Israel across the border now was a massive force of seven Egyptian army divisions, a hundred and twenty thousand soldiers. Two thousand tanks. Nine thousand antitank guns. Arie’s mission, if war erupted, was a dash south across flat ground, wiping out any opposition, and then a swing east to join a night assault on Abu Agheila, the key junction dominating the main north–south road in Sinai. He who controlled Abu Agheila controlled Sinai.
Israel’s assault force was led by a barrel-chested thirty-eight-year-old brigadier, the youngest in the army, Ariel Sharon. He was a controversial hero of the 1956 war who had dropped his paratroopers behind enemy lines, with heavy casualties. His vastly outnumbered division today would rely on a series of overlapping attacks on four fronts to surprise the Egyptians and crush them. Surveying his own platoon of middle-aged reservists Arie couldn’t help thinking, despite his bravado with Ido: let’s hope it never happens.
* * *
Ido, back in the north now, thinking of Alice and his own affairs, prayed it would. God, let it happen, me and Alice, he muttered as he marched through the kibbutz to Alice’s room. It was two o’clock, siesta time, he had the whole afternoon off, after twenty straight days of operations. He hadn’t seen Alice in almost six weeks—when his reconnaissance unit was launched, they fell off the radar.
He had warned her that he couldn’t be in contact. He hoped she understood.
But when he knocked on her door, there was no answer. He peered inside. Empty. Oh, no. He hadn’t been able to tell her he was back, the only phone on the kibbutz was always busy. A tall blond boy walked by, he must be a foreign volunteer. “Hey,” Ido called. “Have you seen Alice?”
“No, I think she may be in Haifa. Or Zefat. A group went to work in the hospitals. In case there’s war.”
Ido’s heart sank. He had counted on seeing her. Every night he had kept up a silent conversation with her image. Alice’s cheeky grin, her sweet lips, to say nothing of her body’s promise, had sustained him through the desert, hiking through the icy nights, hiding in the sweltering day, peering through binoculars for hours, every passing shepherd boy or camel herder spelling possible disaster. Yet all the time, part of him was smiling, knowing Alice was waiting.
Now what?
“Do you know when Alice will be back?” the volunteer called to an English girl.
“Soon. She’s at the first aid class.”
“Oh, she’s back then?”
“Yes, they came back from Haifa yesterday, they were in Rambam Hospital.”
Ido’s heart leapt: there is a God. “Thank you,” he said, searching the lawn for shade where he could wait. The sun was high, the air in the Jordan valley was leaden. Flowers must be wilting; he certainly was.
“I’ll wait inside,” he said aloud, “it’s too hot.”
The only comfortable place in Alice’s room was the bed, so Ido stashed his Uzi beneath it, unlaced his brown combat boots, took off his shirt, and lay in his combat trousers and white T-shirt, head cradled in his hands, looking at the ceiling. His metal dog tag hung from his neck. He sighed happily. The sleepless nights in the desert, the long drives, the muggy heat, soon did their work. He loosened his pants, his eyes closed, and in minutes Ido was fast asleep.
That’s how Alice found him. She opened the door and there he was at last, the boy, the man, who had made the passing of time so painful. Finally he had come. How sweet he looked, such long eyelashes, his face so relaxed, his gentle breaths, black hair from his brown chest poking over his white vest. How far she had come, she thought, so quickly. From tenth- grade football games in Taos, New Mexico, to Israel’s Jordan valley on the brink of war, with a beautiful man in her room, and a submachine gun under her bed. Thank God Mom’s not here.
Her pink-walled bedroom with her crocheted throw and collection of stuffed rabbits sitting against the pillows, her life-sized poster of Elvis bent double stamping his foot and strumming his guitar, it all seemed from another lifetime. She had argued with her mother on the phone, tried to explain how happy she was in Israel, denied the danger, refused to return home. She hadn’t said it, but it was because of Ido, and now here he was, all hers. She backed out of the room and quietly closed the door, not wanting to wake him. She looked around the lawn, wondering where she could wait. She could lie in the shade of that tree. Or drink a soda in the dining room. Or visit one of the girls. Or go over her notes from the first aid class. Or … or … do what she really wanted to do.
She gently pushed the door open, closed it quietly behind her, locked it, and stood by the bed, gazing with love at her sleeping soldier. A yearning as old as time came over her, the fear of losing her man in war before she fully knew him. She had a gift for him, and he for her. All this she felt, barely knowing it. Hesitating only a moment, Alice slipped off her shoes, and her shirt, stopping with her hands inside her waistband. Should she take off her pants? She didn’t dare. She lay beside Ido on the bed. Half of her was hanging over the side, so she snuggled against him.
She was unsure what to do with her arm and finally laid it on his. In the hot muggy room, sleep overtook her too, until she felt a stirring at her side. Ido was turning, discovering her, his eyes opened in delight, until he closed them again, as if asleep, now facing her. Each lying on their side, their faces close, they both pretended to sleep. Their breath mingled, Alice hoped she didn’t smell of milk. Ido sighed, his hand moved and found Alice’s hip, and rested there. Alice responded, edging closer. A moment passed until Ido, sleeping of course, moved his hand to rest gently on Alice’s breast. The tenderness of the moment swept over her.
Eyes still closed, she raised her lips to his and found them. Rested, aroused, Ido pulled her to him, in an instant their bodies wove around each other like twine, his legs through hers, her arms around him, their mouths as one. During all the classes on how to treat wounded soldiers, Alice had prayed Ido would never be one of them, but swore if he was she would always care for him. She felt an overwhelming urge to keep him safe, to never let go. He rose to an elbow, pulled off his T-shirt, he was so muscled, his skin sleek, his body hard. He pulled off her bra, his hands were at her waist, pulling off her pants, she helped him unbutton his own, his underpants came off, and hers. She was naked now, and so was he. She raked him with her fingers, felt him hard against her belly, he was heavy upon her, stroking her everywhere, kissing her wildly, touching her, pushing into her. “Gently,” she whispered, “please, slowly, it hurts. Inside, it hurts.”
Ido rose to his elbows, brushed her hair from her face, kissed her eyes and her nose and her mouth. “Have you done this before?” he whispered.
“No,” she whispered back. “But I want to. Now, with you. I love you. But, please, slowly, don’t hurt me.” Alice held his hard buttocks, pulling him in while holding him off.
“I won’t, I won’t, I love you too,” his voice rising in ecstasy. She shifted beneath him, her legs wider than they’d ever been, she strained against him, trying to make it easier, but it hurt. Her eyes were squeezed so tight her face contorted, she felt herself being opened, being filled, it stung, it hurt, oh it hurt, but his kisses sweetened her, and her lips clamped onto his so that he shouted out and she relaxed, her mouth relaxed, she kissed him gently, her body relaxed. She moved with him, welcoming him, her legs felt free and wrapped around him, and they moved together as Ido kissed Alice’s throat, taking her, until she felt his whole body shudder again and again, he groaned and groaned, collapsed on her, and rolled over onto his back, glistening. She lay by him, in shock and joy.
“God,” Ido gasped, while Alice lay with her eyes closed, in a trance, her heart leaping, bounding like a doe in a field of flowers. Every nerve tingled, every sense was piqued. She brushed her nipples, they were hard as diamonds. Ido lay his head on her chest and suckled at her breast. She cried, and he held her, both sighing with satisfaction. She felt warmth on the inside of her thigh and knew it was blood, and was glad.
They made love again, and this time it was slow and tender, at first. Alice was confused when Ido slid down the bed and kissed her toes and brushed his tongue along the inside of her leg to the velvety top and stayed there, exploring, probing, but she allowed herself to be transported, clinging to his head with one hand, clinging with the other to the bed frame, her body arching higher and higher until she exploded, jerking and shaking, and finally collapsed, laughing hysterically.
Later she walked him to the kibbutz gate, where he would hitchhike back to base. She held his hand with both of hers, and chatted gaily. But the closer they came to the road the more subdued she became. “Can you come back tomorrow?” she asked.
“I’d come back tonight if I could, but I can’t. Yes, I’ll come tomorrow but…” He sighed. “Who knows what will happen tomorrow? We’re all just waiting for the order.”
“Do you know where you’ll go?”
He squeezed her hand. “It’ll be up there somewhere,” he said, looking toward the looming Golan Heights. Shade crept up the escarpment as the sun sank in the west, behind the mountain of Gilboa, where King Saul fell in battle with the Philistines. “The Syrians can see half of Israel from the Golan. We must take the Heights, and it won’t be easy. Uphill all the way.” As if in confirmation, they heard distant booms. “Very steep. They’re well dug in, it’ll be bloody. But we’ll do it.”
Alice pulled Ido against a tree and rested her head on his chest. He leaned into her, his thigh between her legs, his rifle over his shoulder. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” Alice murmured, and pulled back so that she could look him in the eyes. “But I want to say something to you.” He smiled and raised his eyebrows. “I want to say,” she went on, hesitating, “it’s sort of a confession, I told you that you are the only person I ever made love to. I want to say that I didn’t lose something, my virginity, I found something, you. And I am glad that if you do go to war, that you will have me to think of, and you will know that I will always be here, waiting for you, however long it takes. Because I love you, Ido, and I always will. And I ask only one thing in return.”
“Of course, my darling, anything. What?”
She smiled and kissed him. “Don’t tell my mother.”
He burst out laughing. “I promise.” How funny she was, yet so sincere, how beautiful, how American. No Israeli girl would have said what she just did. All he wanted right now was to take her back to her room and do it all over again. He felt he should say something in return, but what? She looks like she’ll cry. “Don’t be sad,” he said, “I’ll be back, I promise. It’ll all be over in a few days, we’ll kick their ass.”
“Kill them all, and come home to me.”
Ido shook his head slowly, his eyes distant. “No. It isn’t like that. We train and go on missions, but when it comes to it, all we really want is to go home. I’ll do everything I have to do, and more, but if I’m really, really lucky I won’t have to kill anyone. Who, after all? They’re not so different from us, they’re just people. I bet right now some poor Ahmed up there is kissing his girl, just like I am, hoping he’ll get back in one piece too. No, I’m not looking forward to this. We’re all just doing what we’re told to do, isn’t that the story of every soldier in every war? I just want to get it over with. If there’s no more war, I guess it’s worthwhile. Me? All I want is to stop them from shooting at us. At you.”
Alice knew she loved him, now she knew he was worth loving. She clung to him until he whispered he’d better go, and she clung to him all the way to the road. There, too quickly, a pickup truck stopped. Ido climbed into the back and saluted Alice, who looked after him and kept waving until the truck faded into the long dark road.