Leon Uris (26 page)

The white-coated waiter hovered over Bill’s table. “Is something wrong with the chowder, sir?”

“Huh? Oh, hell no ... it’s fine,” he mumbled, and shoved a spoonful into his mouth.

Had the purchase of the obsolete bay liner been a mistake? At this moment it was being fitted in Newport News, Virginia, to hold 6850 refugees.

Bill sighed. There was the other side of the picture. Suppose he could get seven thousand refugees out of Europe at one crack! It would just about explode the British policy!

Bill shoved the bowl of chowder away and asked for the check. He picked up the dead cigar butt from the ash tray and relit it and once again read the telegram from Newport News: THE JACKSON IS READY.

At Newport News the next day Bill assembled his crew of Palestinian Palmach and Aliyah Bet, American Jews, sympathetic Spanish Loyalists, Italians, and French. He inspected the ship and ran a short shakedown cruise around the lower bay, then revved up her engines and made for the Atlantic Ocean.

Within three hours the
Jackson
developed engine trouble and had to return to Newport News.

During the next two weeks Bill made three more attempts. The moment the old ship got far from her natural habitat, she rebelled and had to be taken back to port.

Bill told the Aliyah Bet people he had made a mistake. The
Jackson
simply could not make it. They urged him to check her over in dock for another week and make one last try.

On the fifth attempt the entire crew held its collective breath as the obsolete steamer chugged past Cape Henry into deep waters of the Atlantic—and continued to chug.

Twenty-two days later the
Stonewall Jackson
wheezed up the Gulf of Lions to the French harbor of Toulon, which stood forty miles from Marseilles and only twenty miles from the big refugee camp of La Ciotat.

There had been a teamster strike in France, and the British CID who were watching La Ciotat relaxed for a moment, assuming that there would be no movement without trucks. Furthermore, there had been no reports of illegal ships coming from any European ports since the
Gates of Zion
, Dov’s ship, had landed at Port-de-Bouc several weeks earlier.

The British were caught napping.

They had no advance notice of the
Jackson
because she had been purchased and fitted in the United States and to date no Aliyah Bet ship had been large enough to navigate the Atlantic. When the
Jackson
was due to arrive at Toulon the Aliyah Bet went to the head of the French Teamsters’ Union and explained the situation. The Teamsters’ head secretly rounded up drivers and trucks and during the middle of their strike they rushed in and out of La Ciotat transporting sixty-five hundred refugees to Toulon—among them Dov Landau.

British CID discovered the secret at the last moment and descended upon Toulon. They passed out enormous bribes to port officials to delay the departure of the
Jackson
long enough for them to contact London for instructions.

Mossad Aliyah Bet men made counterbribes to the officials to get the ship on the seas, and the
Jackson
, now renamed the
Promised Land
, ran the blue and white Star of David to her mast top in open challenge.

Hasty meetings took place at the Admiralty, Chatham House, and Whitehall. The implications of the situation for British policy were clear, and it was obvious that the
Promised Land
had to be stopped at all costs. The British issued angry threats to the French. British warships waited outside Toulon. The French answered by granting permission to the
Promised Land
to sail.

The
Promised Land
set out from Toulon mid the cheers of the refugees aboard her. The instant she passed the three-mile zone she was escorted by two waiting British cruisers, the
Apex
and
Dunston Hill
.

For the next three and a half days Bill Fry steered the
Promised Land
straight for Palestine. Her long thin smokestack puffed and her engines groaned and her decks bulged, and her watchdog cruisers watched.

The
Apex
and
Dunston Hill
kept in constant radio contact with the Admiralty in London. As the
Promised Land
edged to within fifty miles of the Palestine coast, the British broke the rules of illegal blockade. The
Apex
came close to the steamer and sent a salvo over her ancient bows. The cruiser’s bull horns blasted and her loud-speaker sent a voice over the water: “Illegal ship! Stand by to be boarded!”

Bill Fry bit his cigar. He grabbed a megaphone and stepped onto the bridge. “We are on the high seas,” he shouted. “If you board us here it will be piracy!”

“Sorry, chaps, just following orders. Are you going to accept a boarding party peacefully?”

Bill turned to his Palmach chief who was standing behind him. “Let’s give these bastards a reception.”

The
Promised Land
turned on full steam in an attempt to sprint away from the cruisers. The
Apex
moved alongside her, then cut in sharply and her steel bow rammed the ancient steamer amidships. The blow splintered deep into the steamer’s hull over the water line and she shuddered under the impact. The
Apex
sent out machine-gun fire to drive the refugees off the deck and make it clear for a landing party.

British marines, wearing gas masks and carrying small arms, poured over the bow of the
Promised Land
and moved back to the superstructure. Palmachniks unrolled accordions of barbed wire in the path of the British and then loosed a barrage of rocks on them, followed by streams of water from pressure hoses.

The British were swept back to the bow by the attack. They fought off the Palmach with small arms and called for reinforcements. More marines boarded, this time with wire cutters. Another attack mounted toward the superstructure. Again the water hoses pushed them back and again the British returned, under cover of machine-gun fire from the
Apex.
They reached the barbed wire and cut it in time to receive scalding steam jets from the Palmach. Now the Palmachniks jumped to the attack and drove the British back. They overpowered the marines and threw them into the sea, one by one.

The
Apex
stopped the attack to fish their men out of the water, and the
Promised Land
, a huge hole in her side, chugged off once again. The
Dunston Hill
chased her down and pondered the advisability of another ram. The steamer might well go down with one more blow. It was too dangerous to risk. Instead, the
Dunston Hill
poured on heavy-caliber machine-gun fire that raked the decks clean of refugees and Palmach. The
Dunston Hill
’s boarding party came up amidships on ladders. A wild hand-to-hand brawl followed. With flailing clubs and an occasional pistol shot, the British pressed the attack toward the ladder leading up to the captain’s bridge.

Meanwhile, the
Apex
recovered and raced to the scene again. The two cruisers boxed the steamship in. The
Apex
party boarded again behind a tear-gas barrage, and with the
Dunston Hill
marines pressing from the other direction the Palmach was driven back.

Dov Landau was in the fight. He and other refugees were guarding the top of the ladder near the captain’s bridge. They pushed the British down the ladder half a dozen times until the tear gas and, finally, small arms drove them off.

The British had control of the deck now. They reinforced their position and held the refugees and Palmach off at gunpoint while another party stormed into the wheelhouse to gain command of the ship.

Bill Fry and five of his crew greeted the first three men who entered the wheelhouse with pistols and angry fists. Although he was completely cut off, Bill continued fighting until British marines dragged him from the wheelhouse and beat him unconscious with clubs.

After four hours of fighting, with eight of their men dead and a score wounded, the British gained control of the
Promised Land
. Fifteen Jews were killed, among them the American captain, Bill Fry.

A general order for secrecy was issued at Haifa harbor in Palestine as the
Dunston Hill
towed the
Promised Land
in. The old steamship was listing badly. The entire Haifa dock area was flooded with British troops. The Sixth Airborne Division was there and they were armed to the teeth. But in their attempt at maintaining the secrecy, the British did not know that the Jews had broadcast a full account of the boarding of the
Promised Land
over their radio.

As the ships approached Haifa Bay, the Jews in Palestine called a general strike. Troops and tanks were required in the dock area to form a barrier between the refugees and Palestine’s angry Jews.

Four British prison ships,
Empire Monitor, Empire Renown, Empire Guardian
, and the
Magna Charta
waited to effect an immediate transfer of the refugees from the
Promised Land
. But the very instant the Chesapeake Bay liner was towed into port, the harbor area and the entire city of Haifa shook under the impact of a mighty blast! The
Empire Monitor
was blown to pieces! This act was accomplished by Palmach frogmen who swam in and attached a magnetic mine to the ship’s sides.

The
Promised Land
docked and the transfer operation began at once. Most of the refugees had had the fight knocked out of them. They went quietly to delousing sheds where they were stripped, sprayed, searched for weapons, and moved quickly on to the three remaining prison ships. It was a tragic procession.

Dov Landau and twenty-five others locked themselves into a hold, armed themselves with pipes, and defied the British to the very end. The hold was pumped full of tear gas; and Dov was carried from the
Promised Land
by four soldiers, still struggling, cursing, and fighting. He was thrown into a barred cell on the
Magna Charta
.

The prison ships were packed even more tightly than the
Promised Land
had been, and that same night they sailed from Haifa with the two cruisers,
Dunston Hill
and
Apex
, as escort.

If the refugees were sent on to Cyprus to the already crowded camps there, then the Jews would have won their point. Sixty-five hundred more Jews would have been taken out of Europe and added to the ever-growing numbers waiting on Cyprus to go to Palestine.

“The refugees from the so-called
Promised Land
on the
Empire Guardian
, the
Empire Renown
, and the
Magna Charta
are to be returned to their port of embarkation, Toulon, France. Henceforth any other illegal blockade-runners that are caught will also be returned to their ports of origin.”

The Palmachniks and Mossad Aliyah Bet people who were with the refugees on the three ships knew what they had to do. If they debarked and returned to Toulon and if the British rode out the storm, then there would be no more illegal immigration.

The order for secrecy went out in Toulon as the prison ships steamed into the Gulf of Lions and dropped anchor offshore.

Simultaneously the Palmach chiefs on each of the prison ships handed the British captains a message; each one was to the effect that “We will be taken ashore only by force.”

The commander of the prison ships radioed to the Admiralty in London for instructions. Whitehall immediately turned on the toughest diplomatic pressure they could, short of breaking the Anglo-French alliance. They warned the French not to attempt to take sides with the Jews and to allow the British to carry out the debarkation by force. For four days messages and instructions flew between London and the prison ships and between Paris and London. Then the French government handed the British its dramatic decision.

“The government of France will not allow or be a party to the forcible removal of the refugees. If the refugees desire to return to France of their own free will, they are most welcome.”

The French had taken a stand with the Jews, even at the risk of rupturing relations with the British. The refugees were exhilarated by the news. To a man, they renewed their vow to stay aboard the ships. The British, recovering from the shock, informed the refugees that they would either debark at Toulon or sit in the Gulf of Lions until they rotted.

Aboard the
Empire Guardian, Empire Renown
, and
Magna Charta
, the Jews dug in. The Palmachniks organized schools, taught Hebrew, compiled news, started a theater, and generally tried to keep things going. The French government kept up a daily stream of barges between the ships and Toulon to supply the refugees with good food and medical care. A dozen babies were born. At the end of a week, the refugees were holding fast.

On shore newsmen were getting curious about the three ships and were irate over the curtain of silence. One night an Aliyah Bet man swam ashore from the
Empire Guardian
and gave out the full story to the French press.

The story swept through France, Italy, Holland, and Denmark. Editorial insults were hurled at the British, in all four countries.

London braced itself against the onslaught of public resentment from the continent. They had expected it. They had, in fact, prepared for everything except the doggedness of the refugees. Conditions on the prison ships were of the worst. The atmosphere was sweltering and there was a good deal of sickness. Nevertheless, the refugees refused to come ashore. The British crews, who did not dare venture into the caged sections of the ship, were beginning to get uneasy. At the end of the second week the Jews were still holding fast and the clamor in the press was reaching a crescendo.

Three weeks passed. Four weeks passed.

At last the story began to lose its impetus. Then, the first Jew came ashore without being forced. He was dead. The whole issue was reignited. The captains of the three ships reported that the refugees seemed more determined than ever and the pressure on Whitehall mounted hourly. If more corpses were brought ashore it would be very bad.

The policy makers decided to take another tack. They asked that the refugees send in delegations to talk it all over. Their plan was to try to find a compromise that might let them out of the whole affair without losing face. From all three ships they received the same answer from the Palmach chiefs: