No Time for Tears (30 page)

Aaron slipped back into Zichron as he had in the past few years. His known absence from the country would have attracted attention and compromised the cause. In fact, he never failed to go to Damascus to see Jamal Pasha.

As he now sat across the desk from Jamal Pasha he noticed the special, almost wild look in his eye. It was now 1918 and the war had escalated. The loss of his men was staggering. Arms being confiscated by the British or retrieved by the Jews was a crushing blow. More and more Turks were being taken prisoners of war by the advancing British, or defecting from the army. And there was the lack of food production.

“
Well
,” he said as he paced the floor, “what is your excuse
this
time, Aaronson? This time you can’t say it’s because I have jailed your men …
why has the production slowed down?
”

Aaron answered without hesitation, “Because you can’t squeeze blood from a turnip … we’re still affected by the locust invasion. It will be at least another year before the crop that has been planted will be ready for harvest. The strain in the country has been devastating, and it shows at the experimental stations too—”

“
Excuses
… I’m sick of them. Now you’re such a damned smart Jew … forgive me, I mean scientist … I want some answers. For example,
how do we feed the army?
”

“There is only one way. By buying from the neutral countries.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Your permission to travel abroad.”

“And with you gone, who is to take over at Athlit for us? That traitor, Absalom Feinberg, went over to the British … that’s why we’re not getting the yield from Hadera … I should have hanged him.”

Aaron would have liked to have ended Jamal Pasha’s ugly life with his bare hands. Very unscientific. He fought not to change his expression, to stay in control…. “Nobody is indispensable. I have a very capable man who replaced him. This situation is a little different than before when I said it took brains to provide yields…. That still holds true, but you can’t fight nature.”

Jamal sank down in his chair, “So we have to buy from foreign markets …” He sighed deeply. “All right, you have my permission, but do it fast.”

Aaron would never tell Jamal Pasha that a shipment was already on its way from Switzerland, that the contacts had been made weeks ago, and that there were men in Greece, Spain and Italy with instructions about at what intervals to deliver the goods.

At Zichron Aaron found that Sarah had cooked the best Roumanian dinner he had eaten since his mother had died. God rest her soul, he could scarcely believe a year had passed since then. But tonight Aaron was at peace for the first time in so long he wanted to remember the joys she had brought to their lives and not to mourn her loss.

As he sat around the table looking at his brothers, Zvi and Shmuel, who had come back into the fold, then at Alex and his father, his heart was filled. And how thoughtful of Sarah to have included Chavala, Dovid and the children. For the moment, his eyes were on Reuven. Where had the years gone? He remembered the day he witnessed the child’s
bris
, and now he was ten … it seemed impossible. “Well, Reuven, you’re almost ready to become a scientist like your father.”

“I just hope I’ll be as good,” Reuven said, looking at his father.

“I’ve no doubt … and you, Chia? What would you like to be?” She was almost thirteen.

“A teacher, I think.”

“Good, that’s what we need … teachers and scientists. Well, now that we’ve taken care of the future, I think we should all go into the living room and listen to a little Chopin. Would you do us the honor, Sarah?”

“If I can still remember how to play.”

“You’ll still remember. And that’s also what we need, the sound of Chopin …”

After the recital Chavala and Sarah walked the children home. It was long past their bedtime. Sarah listened to Chavala say, “Sleep well, my Reuven …” Somehow in Hebrew it sounded so different than in Yiddish. Her mother had always put them to bed with the words, “
Schlaf mit gesund’heit, mein tayere kind
.”

Chia kissed Sarah on the cheek and thanked her for the lovely evening. “I had such a wonderful time … would you teach me to play the piano?”

Such poignant innocence in the little girl’s face. Sarah had to hold back the tears. When would there be time? she wondered … “I would love to, Chia.”

“When can we start?”

“Soon, dear… soon.”

Sitting in the front room, Sarah looked about. “It’s such a lovely little house, what you’ve done with it… But the children … Chavala, you’re so blessed … if only I had a child,” she said, more to herself than Chavala. At least she could speak as a woman to another woman … “I still mourn for Absalom. I think about him constantly … if only I had his son, the pain would not be so great…” Once she’d started she couldn’t stop. This was the first time she had spoken openly about him. “But I have my memories. Lord, the things we did. We would ride like the wind, up into the hills of Zichron, and the love between us … I still hear the sound of his voice when he read his own poetry to me … He was a fine poet, you know. A wonderful man…”

Chavala could scarcely answer. “Yes, I know …”

Sarah sat there, not speaking, her thoughts on some unknown shallow grave in the Sinai. Getting up slowly, she said, “I am so happy you’ve come back to Zichron, Chavala.”

And Chavala thought to herself, I never wanted to leave, but she answered, “So am I Sarah, so am I…”

Back home, Sarah looked into the living room, saw the men gathered and said a quick goodnight. She wanted to be alone with only one man this night…

“
Abba
,” Aaron continued after Sarah had gone off to bed, “I felt the time had come for you to know about NILI. I only hope you understand why I did not tell you more earlier.”

The old man still sat in disbelief. “During all the years of this war I ignored the existence of espionage, and the suspicions of the Germans that there were spies among the Jews. I thought it was a despicable, anti-Semitic accusation, but how could I not have known when I worked in the fields of Athlit that my own sons were involved?”

“Because none of them know … only the key men.”

“I still find it incredible that such a secret should have been so closely kept.”

“It was for the good of the Yishuv.”

“But if, God forbid, any of you are caught the Yishuv will suffer—”

“No,
abba
, we members of NILI took it on ourselves to do this and we alone will assume the blame, should the time ever come for it.”

Ephraim Aaronson was almost mumbling. “I still can’t believe that I lived here in Zichron and knew nothing. Why
did
you wait until now to tell me?”

“Because when I leave this time I won’t come back until the war is over. You must know … you may be questioned …”

Ephraim nodded. “How could I have been so stupid, or am I merely growing senile … Absalom would never have left Sarah to become a pilot—”

“Yes,
abba
, but that is something only we know. There have been suspicions, though the letters we’ve arranged for Sarah to receive help make the story plausible.”

“I see… well, how can I help?”

“Your help is in working with the special committee in allocating money. We have our problems there too. Some of the Zionist organizations aren’t too enthusiastic about funds being transferred to the Yishuv by NILI. They want the transfer of funds to go through a special committee of their own in Cairo.”

“You mean you’re taking the risks, doing the work and they’re fighting you? Why?”

“Because,
abba
,” Alex told him, “some of them are afraid Aaron will become too powerful—”

Ephraim was furious. “This isn’t politics. Its only purpose is to get information to the British. How dare they accuse Aaron or any of you of such ambitions? Well, enough for tonight. Go to bed. Aaron, I think you need your rest … You have a long journey ahead of you. I suppose we all do
…
”

A
S THE WAR ESCALATED
, it was important that information be gotten at a more rapid pace to British Intelligence in Alexandria.

Although only some three hundred and twenty-five nautical miles separated Port Said from Athlit, they presented the same problems NILI had had since the beginning of the espionage work … Only on moonless nights could the ship operate. Good weather and a quiet sea were still necessary. So some other means of communication now had to be found.

A radio link was suggested by Zalman Kishon, but that was considered too risky since the Germans were so sophisticated in breaking codes. Dovid argued that the maritime link be replaced by an air link. But that too was ruled out since the only possible landing site was closely patrolled by the Turks. Sarah, half-seriously, suggested the link between Alexandria and Athlit be not by airplane but homing pigeons.

Aaron consulted a Major Malcolb, an expert on homing pigeons, who said the birds could fly at about one hundred miles an hour, which meant that the distance between Athlit and Port Said could be covered in a little under four hours. Malcolb took over the training of the pigeons. Slowly they were acquainted with their duty, at the same time increasing the distance they could stay away from their dovecote and return to it.

In mid-June the pigeons were put in dovecotes in Athlit and Zichron Yaakov. Three weeks later six pigeons were sent for the first time from Athlit, only one of which reached its destination, this time without any message. Then, two months later, Sarah sent five with a coded message in which she requested the dispatch of the ship
Menagem
on September 10. The next day she sent another five carrying the same message. Four reached their destination, but one was caught on September 3 in the backyard of Ahmad Bey, the governor of Caesarea.

As he was feeding his own pigeons he noticed one didn’t belong. He also noticed a feather tied to its foot He released the feather, and found a message in it. Even though he did not know the message was coded, he was excited by the discovery. He assumed it was the act of spies and immediately contacted the governor of Haifa. The news soon spread to Athlit and the pigeons were quickly killed.

The next day Turkish officials brought the discovered pigeon to Zichron Yaakov and displayed her in a cage in the Graf Hotel. Their hope was that seeing it might encourage some villager to open his mouth. None did.

NILI now had even a graver problem than the damning pigeon. Lieb Schacham was arrested. He had been scouting Turkish military installations, and also had learned that a new Turkish counterattack on Gaza was going to take place between the tenth and fifteenth of the month. He’d tried to hurry back to Athlit, this time traveling southward from Petach Tikvah in order to avoid crossing military guards. So he hadn’t followed the seashore but had gone through desert land. Thirst had gotten the better of him, forced him to the ground, where he had promptly been attacked by Arabs, beaten up, his clothes taken away and robbed of all his possessions—including the vital papers and coded messages.

When he was later found by a Turkish soldier he was jailed in Beersheba.

At the first inquiry Lieb denied all connection with any espionage.

General Kers Von Kerstein, hearing that a Jewish spy had been caught, ordered him to be hanged immediately. The Turks, however, wanted to investigate him further and hoped that through torture he would reveal the names of his accomplices. When he still refused to speak the Turks sentenced him to death by hanging.

On September 16 the Turkish authorities announced that on the following morning a Jewish spy would be hanged in the city square and that the public was cordially invited to witness the execution. The hanging did not take place … the threat was made in hopes that Lieb would finally give up his secrets—which he
still
refused to do. Once again he was tortured and thrown into the dungeon at Beersheba.

That night Zichron swarmed with a battalion of soldiers. Guards watched every exit of the village. The governor of Haifa, Hamed Bey, gathered together the elders and told them that a network of spies had been found in Zichron, and unless the names of the ringleaders were promptly revealed the Turks would execute one hundred people. A twenty-four-hour ultimatum was given. If they persisted in their stubbornness, not a house or a Jew would be left standing in Zichron.

Terrified by the order, the elders of Zichron debated what to do. The truth, of course, was that until the discovery of the pigeons they knew of no such network of spies.

The spokesman swore on his mother’s grave that he had no such knowledge. Governor Hamed Bey called him “a liar, a deceitful scum Jew…. You will tell me the truth when we are through with you.” The guard was called. “Take him and beat him until he begs us to listen to him condemn his people to death.”

His son, who had recently joined NILI, knew that this was only the beginning of his father’s torture. All he could think of at this moment was not his safety but his father’s life. He went to the authorities and turned himself in. After a punishment that took him beyond the silence he’d pledged himself to, he told the names he knew. His reward was a bullet through the head.

Now, with the information in hand, a systematic roundup began. The prisoners were taken to Nazareth. Fifteen elders were forced to accompany the prisoners of NILI as hostages unless the whereabouts of Aaron Aaronson and Dovid Landau were revealed.

So far, the prisoners taken had either not confessed in spite of the tortures or their innocence had to be assumed, even by the Turks … no human being could keep silent under the terrible punishment they’d undergone.

Now Dovid Landau had become the most wanted leader of NILI, both because of who he was and because it was assumed he would know the whereabouts of Aaron Aaronson.

The village was searched. Dovid was nowhere to be found … he was hiding in the subterranean vaults at Athlit, almost under the noses of the Turks, listening to soldiers breaking down doors, smashing cabinets, demolishing furniture, and then the crash of glass.