No Time for Tears

by Cynthia Freeman

  “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 …”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  AS 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.

  When the experimental station was thoroughly demolished it was suspected that he’d run off to the hills with many other men from NILI. He was not found.

  As a last resort Jamal Pasha dispatched soldiers to Chavala and Dovid’s house, this time with instructions to intimidate but not molest her. Eventually, he was sure, her husband would try to reach her. After hours of intense, exhausting interrogation she stuck to her denials … “I’ve told you over and over again, I don’t know where my husband is, but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You can torture me, kill me, but I will tell you nothing.”

  They would wait, as instructed. They still needed her alive as a lure to draw her husband…

  Certain that it was only a matter of time before he was caught, Dovid prayed to be free long enough to accomplish this one last mission … At midnight he worked feverishly in the underground vaults with Nachman Shamir and Moses Bartov, taking sacks of gold through the tunnel that connected Athlit to the Crusaders’ Castle. When they were finished, Dovid wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, th
en looked at the two men dressed in stolen Turkish uniforms.

  “Well,” he said, “it seems a long time since we first met at Athlit. You, Nachman, wanted to know that night if you were supposed to twiddle your thumbs.”

  Nachman managed a smile. “I remember, Dovid. You said we wouldn’t have time for that, and you were right.”

  Dovid nodded. “And you, Moses Bartov, the Shomer from Galilee … you have been a real friend. Now, get the gold loaded into the wagon, you have your instructions which kibbutzim they’re to be hidden in. Shalom.”

  After the men had gone Dovid thought back to that first meeting, marveling that any of them had survived. Well, that was what Jews did best…

  He crawled back through the tunnel, waited in the vault and listened for any sounds above. He had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but when he felt, hoped it was safe, he cautiously slid back the trapdoor and peered out. Even through that tiny slit he could tell the Turks had been here, could see their ugly trail of devastation. Quickly he lifted himself up and secured the trapdoor.

  There was no time for fear. Tonight he had to rendezvous with the Menagem. He crawled through the high grass, then along the seawall until he reached the appointed place. He took the small flashlight from his back pocket, lay down on his stomach and signaled the code … S-A-L-A-N-E-H I-S A S-I-L-L-Y W-O-M-A-N S-H-E L-A-U-G-H-S. Then he lay very still, waiting for the message to be decoded.

  Chaim, his face collapsed in grief, handed Lieutenant Ian Smith the translation. Salaneh was NILI… Silly meant exposed … Woman was captured … She Laughs was gold is safe. There was a hush aboard, but this was not the time for mourning.

  Quickly the motor started and the Menagem made a run for it…

  Dovid took a deep breath when he heard the sound of the ship going off in the distance, then he waited and listened for still another sound. He’d been through this act so many times he could almost predict when the Turkish patrol would come and go. He heard them pass. He got up and ran from rock to rock until he was almost within arm’s reach of the Crusaders’ Castle, where, as expected, he was captured by four Turkish soldiers …

  First he was beaten with the butt of a gun, then kicked when he fell to the ground. To hell with the pain, he willed himself to stand up. His right eye was swollen shut, he felt the blood running down the side of his face. But at least he walked as he was taken off to prison.

  The two-by-four cell was barely large enough to accommodate his body. He sat against the wall, not even able to stretch his legs. Each time he shifted, the pain in his head became excruciating and his bruised body ached almost beyond endurance. As he sat in the dark, there was little else to do except contemplate what would happen to him. Finally, the heavy metal door swung open.

  “Stand up.”

  He did, with great effort, and was led by a guard down the narrow passages, past the death row cells, until they reached an iron gate. Another guard unlocked it. The clang of the ancient metal bolt sounded to Dovid like giant cymbals being clashed together. He wanted to put his hands over his ears, but he was prodded by the butt of a gun down another corridor, to be shoved into an interrogation room.

  Hamed Bey motioned to the guard, and Dovid was pushed into a chair.

  “What were you doing at the Crusaders’ Castle early this morning?”

  “I was out for a stroll—”

  “Don’t try your stupid heroics on me … I know you’re terrified … what were you doing? … I will give you one minute to answer.”

  “I’m a Jew, why would you believe me?”

  “Jews are cowards. Little as it’s worth, you value your life, and I understand you have a wife and child … now, your minute’s running out.”

  “The truth is, I was a little restless tonight I enjoy watching the water, it calms me down—”

  “Enough nonsense. I know you’re the head of NILI. Guard, take him out.”

  Dovid was beaten and thrown back into the windowless cell. Again he sat in the dark. He remembered the day he dedicated himself to the survival of his people. He heard the echoes of his own voice come back to him, from that night in Aaron’s laboratory when he’d said, “Every man has his breaking point …” So far, thank God, he hadn’t come to his, nor had, so far as he knew, the other seven who had sworn on the Bible that night. He was proud to have been a part of that group, proud of the recruits who were no less dedicated, just less prepared. He did not blame the young man, recently sworn into NILI, who had gone back on his oath to save his father. How could he?

  Once again the heavy iron door opened, and once again he was all but dragged down the stone passageway, but this time to a waiting room. Pushed into a chair, he looked at the man behind the desk. Jamal Pasha, no less.

  Pasha ignored Dovid for what seemed like an eternity.

  “Well, we meet again, Landau, and under unfortunate circumstances. For you. The last time you were in my office I was most hospitable. You smoked my cigarettes and drank my coffee. You also were given an opportunity to look at some very important plans. Now, after all that, I think it only fair that you oblige me with Aaronson’s whereabouts.”

  “I’ve no more idea than you do.”

  Jamal Pasha recalled too well the way he’d been tricked into letting this Jew go, how he’d underestimated him. “That’s strange, Landau, since I know you’re always in contact with him. Well, as you know, I’m a patient man, but there is a limit. Now, once again, I ask you, where is Aaronson?”

  “I repeat, I do not know.”

  Jamal Pasha poured a large glass of water from a pitcher, took a sip, then let it stand on the desk.

  Dovid had had nothing to drink or to eat for two days. He said nothing.

  “Where is Aaronson?”

  Dovid only shrugged.

  Jamal Pasha got up from his desk and slapped Dovid across the face so hard that the chair in which he sat almost toppled over. Then: “Guards, take him out of my sight. I assure you, Landau, that when we are through, you’ll beg us to kill you.”

  He was almost right…

  By now all of Zichron was put in a quarantine, and every man, woman and child received punishment. Rations were a cup of water per person a day. No one was to leave his house under penalty of death …

  Chavala was singled out, taken off to jail and tortured when she refused to tell about Dovid’s involvement in NILI. When she sufficiently recovered she was asked again and again, “What was your husband’s position? What did he do? What were his plans … ?”

  There were times she almost faltered, but somehow her mind ruled her body as she kept repeating to herself, They can only kill me once … only once … only once …

  Abruptly she was sent home. Jamal Pasha had decided she was still too valuable as a tool to break down her husband’s resistance. He would not kill her. Not yet

  Lieb Schachamwas finally to be executed. He had still not talked. When he stood on the scaffold with the rope around his neck, he called out “NILI! Netzah Yisroel Lo Ishkahem! Israel’s perpetuity shall never forget thee!”

  Nachman Shamir and Eliave Yitzchak were escorted to the main square in Damascus, where the gallows had been set up. Nachman told the crowd, “You are near your end, we will liberate our country. We will not betray our true homeland. We are liberating Palestine. Very soon the Turks will be driven out of our land. We, NILI’s men, have dug a grave for you. While you are busy hanging our people, the British have entered our Holy City of Jerusalem, your army is running without a battle. On the day of my death, I send you a curse from the bottom of my heart. Be damned forever …”

  When the Turkish guards came to take Sarah’s father and brothers, she received them calmly.

  They forced her to watch as old Ephraim and her brothers were beaten on the bare soles of their feet. When she could stand it no longer she told them, “It was me, I started NILI … I am its real head … I started it and I will end it. Please … if you have any decency, in the name of your Allah, let my father go �
�”

  The old man was “released” from the room, to be taken off to his death when he was out of Sarah’s sight.

  Sarah had sealed her death warrant. First she was beaten, her fingernails were pulled out, hot rocks were put under her armpits. For three days and nights she screamed out her pain in the black, windowless cell.

  When the cell door was finally opened she was ready. At her sentencing she said, “It’s customary in civilized countries that the prisoner be granted a last wish. You are civilized people.”

  “What is your request?”

  “To be allowed to go home for a change of clothes. I do not wish to meet my God as I look now.”

  The inquisitor grimaced. Only a stupid Jewess would think of such a thing, but, as she said, they were a civilized people. “Granted.”

  Sarah was taken in chains through the streets of Zichron. When they arrived she was, after pleading, permitted to go to her room alone.

  She locked herself in her bedroom, opened the dresser drawer and took out the small pearl-handled revolver she had carried with her when she left Constantinople.

  Strange she thought, I took this for protection … Well, that’s what it will be used for. Without hesitation, Sarah put it into her mouth and pulled the trigger.

  A soldier rushed up the stairs and broke down the door, where he found Sarah unconscious. Beside her lay the small pistol. Her pulse still beat weakly when the soldier felt it. He looked at the blood oozing from her mouth. Knowing how angry Jamal Pasha would be at being deprived of her hanging, the soldier immediately sent for a doctor.

  After an injection she regained consciousness. “For God’s sake, kill me, I can’t stand any more …” She continued to beg for a lethal potion, cursed the Turkish commander, the governor, and especially the police officer, Osman Bey, who had tortured her. For two days she lay paralyzed but semiconscious.

  Finally, blessed death came to release her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DOVID LAY ON THE stone floor. Chavala had been brought to see him, in the hope that her pleading would break his spirit When they were left briefly alone she said, “Dovid, please, what will you accomplish now by not revealing where Aaron is? He’s beyond reach in Alexandria, so how can you hurt him? Please, Dovid. Save yourself …”