by Noah Beck
Jacob’s parents were natives of Mumbai, India. Both were successful and well-educated professionals who had never experienced any anti-Semitism in India, either from the majority Hindus or other minorities. The Muslim and Jewish communities in Mumbai historically enjoyed strong ties, drawn together as minorities in a predominantly Hindu land with certain similarities like their non-vegetarian diets of kosher and halal foods. But despite their relatively comfortable life, Jacob’s parents had always dreamed of living in Israel, to enjoy a spiritual life that would be far richer and more diverse than anything their tiny Mumbai community of 5,000 Jews could offer.
So in 1995 Jacob’s parents joined the tens of thousands of Indians who had already made Israel their new home. At the time his family moved, Jacob was just four years old and his father was a 26-year old physician. Four years after immigrating to Israel, Jacob’s father managed to join the emergency medicine department of Rambam Hospital. Zvi’s father was the head of that department and 23 years his senior, so he served as something of a mentor to Jacob’s father. Pleased at how well their young sons Zvi and Jacob got along, the two doctors would end up spending considerable off-duty time together and becoming good friends. The two families often invited each other over for dinners and major celebrations. Most importantly, after a horrific event killed Zvi’s father and crippled his mother, Jacob’s family was there to provide all the support they could to Zvi and his family.
When it came time to enlist and Jacob wanted to gain entry into the submarine force, he encouraged Zvi to try out with him, despite Zvi’s lingering but minor speech problem that he had almost eliminated until the tragedy that devastated his family. When the best friends turned 16 and had just started driving, Jacob saw that Zvi had exceptional motor skills. He was extraordinarily good at multi-tasking in all of the ways that should be illegal: driving around a tight curve on an undulating hill with his left hand on the steering wheel holding a cigarette and his right hand on the stick shift holding a cell phone while texting with his thumb. Jacob knew that Zvi also had outstanding eye-hand coordination and was extremely good at video games. So he had a hunch that his best friend had special abilities and just needed to be pushed a bit.
“M…Me? In…In the submarine force?” Zvi asked incredulously. “It…It’s impossible to get in.”
“I think you’re actually more likely to be admitted than I am.”
“Aa…Are you crazy? You…You have to have one of the highest profiles for IQ and emo…emotional stability, so as soon as they learn the…the details about my family – ”
“Just try out with me…Trust me on this…Imagine how cool it would be if we both made it and got to serve on the same submarine!” And so Jacob convinced Zvi to apply with him.
Zvi correctly assumed that the effects of his horrible family loss would make the Israeli Navy hesitate to consider him for a submariner role. But when they tested his eye-hand coordination in response to a variety of computerized simulations, and his ability to keep his arm steady or moving in the required direction with lack of sleep and under a variety of other pressures, he scored better than anyone else did in the history of the Israeli Navy. The officers on the selection committee concluded that Zvi could very well become the best helmsman ever to steer an Israeli naval ship. As if that weren’t enough, his best friend Jacob had outstanding results as well and was considered one of their top picks for the submarine force. Hence, when Jacob told the selection committee that he wouldn’t sign up without Zvi, the decision to accept both recruits became that much easier.
As Jacob stood there in the battery room of the submarine on which he and his best friend chose to serve, it was almost as if their choices were made together for precisely this kind of moment, when Zvi urgently needed Jacob’s reassuring presence, and Jacob could be there for him like nobody else. Jacob looked protectively into Zvi’s lost, dark eyes, as he held him.
“It’s going to be fine, Zvi. Come on, let’s get some sleep.”
Zvi forced a smile and the two walked out of the battery room and back up to the sleeping quarters.
As they crawled into their bunks, Jacob tried to lighten the mood by reminding Zvi of the more entertaining moments of the picnic. He whispered to him: “I still can’t believe my brother became Bob Marley in a matter of months. It’s so funny.”
“Y…Yeah…And…And I miss your dad…Traveling healer and good soul…He…He’s such an amazing person.”
“He really is.”
And with that remark alone, Zvi effectively transported Jacob into a reminiscent experience of the picnic, where his father’s work as a doctor was discussed. He suddenly felt himself sent back to that gathering, where he vividly watched certain scenes as if they were a film being projected onto the tiny wall space next to his submarine bunk.
****
At the picnic, Zvi’s older brother brought their blind mother a plate of food. “Here, Mom.” He put the plate into her lap and put a fork into her hand. “There’s a little from each of the dishes you like.” She pressed his hand to thank him. Zvi’s brother then turned to Jacob’s father. “How have you been, David? It’s been a few weeks since we spoke.”
“Things are good, thank you. Just happy that we can all share this moment together. It’s been a really wonderful week actually – with this gathering and the visitor I had a few days ago.”
“Who was your visitor?” Zvi’s mother asked between bites.
“The mayor of Kurihara, a city about six hours north of Tokyo.”
“Oh, this has to do with the IDF medical team that responded to the Fukushima disaster?”
“Exactly,” Jacob’s mother replied. “That area was hit hard by the tsunami, and David personally tended to the mayor’s injuries.”
“Wow, so he came to visit you here?” Zvi’s brother asked.
“Yes. He had never been to Israel before, and figured that coming here to thank me in person was a good excuse to make the trip finally.”
“How did he like it?”
“He had a great experience. And he asked me to introduce him to some Israeli biotech and pharma companies that might be able to set up partnerships in his city to help with their economic recovery. I put him in touch with a few people, so we’ll see.”
“You're the only kind of IDF the world likes,” the doctor’s backpacker son said. “Too bad I’m not going to be a doctor. It’d be nice to do your kind of reserve duty with the IDF Medical Corps.”
“Believe me, the glory is pretty short-lived. Like the world media’s memory or, should I say, thanks to it.”
“What do you mean?” Jacob’s brother asked.
“Remember how important their role was in the Haiti rescue efforts?” his mother reminded her younger son.
“When was that again?”
“Are you saying that on purpose to prove your father’s point about short memories?”
“Mom, I’ve been trekking around Latin America for half a year. I’m a little disconnected from things at the moment.”
“David, he doesn’t remember these details,” she said in frustration to her husband. “Remind him. He should hear it again.”
“In January of 2010, a magnitude seven earthquake in Haiti killed about 300,000 people, and left another 300,000 injured. The IDF Medical Corp was one of the first aid teams to arrive in Haiti,” Jacob’s father recounted; he had clearly told this story before. “We treated over 1,000 patients, conducted over 300 successful surgeries, delivered over a dozen babies, and saved many from the ruins.”
The traveling hippie looked as if he was still trying to recall the events in question.
“You don’t remember that?!” Jacob exclaimed, looking disappointed at his brother.
“Anyway, within a month or two the whole Haiti story was forgotten, and five months later in the nonstop media coverage of the Marvi Marmara incident, the IDF was already being portrayed as some excessively violent, heartless force.”
“Th…That was the worst,”
Zvi interjected.
Jacob became even more worked up about the point because he had a navy friend who had been seriously injured in the incident. “Yeah, nobody cared that this Turkish ship had ignored multiple warnings to respect the naval blockade on Gaza or that it had armed thugs who made the whole thing get violent.”
“But wasn’t that ship carrying aid or something?” Jacob’s younger brother asked.
“Yes, and they could have peacefully docked at Ashdod port like all of the other ships that sailed with them did. They could have unloaded all their aid materials for transfer to Gaza after clearing security checks. But they were looking for a confrontation.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because they used guns, knives, and pipes to attack the Israeli soldiers as soon as they boarded the ship.”
“And…And the fact that people died because…because the IDF had to use self…self-defense against violent passengers…didn’t…didn’t interest anyone,” Zvi added.
“Certainly nobody cared that the IDF had ever been involved in humanitarian missions,” Jacob’s father explained to his dreadlocked son. “As Zvi and Jacob were getting at, much of the world media just portrayed the IDF as some evil aggressor attacking passengers on a Turkish aid ship.”
“The bottom line is that the IDF can’t count on its good deeds being remembered when it finds itself in violent conflict,” Jacob concluded.
“Yes, but humanitarian work is an expression of our Jewish values,” his father said. “So we do it because it’s the right thing to do and not because we’ll ever get credit for it.”
“OK, enough politics,” Zvi’s mother protested. “It gets depressing!” she said with a half-teasing lightness.
****
Jacob’s mind then moved to the most exciting moment of the entire picnic: When he said goodbye to his girlfriend, Clarice. She was a beautiful, Parisian-born student at the University of Haifa, where she was studying marine biology. Clarice wasn’t going to let Jacob return to the submarine until she closed the deal with him. And her lovely, French-accented Hebrew was enough to keep him standing there all day.
****
“The only studio I can imagine sharing is in Brooklyn,” Jacob admitted fancifully. When he was off-duty, he became something of a lighthearted daydreamer.
“Why Brooklyn?”
“I’ve just always wanted to try living there for a while…I have this weird fascination with the place…Maybe one day, when I’m done with my military service, we can share a studio there, and try it out together.”
“I’m not waiting years until we move in together! And I’m certainly not moving to Brooklyn with you before we’ve tried living together here in Israel. Besides, I have to finish my degree first.”
“Yeah, I know…I was just fantasizing about the whole Brooklyn thing,” Jacob said with a smile.
“No, you were trying to change the topic. Look, I know it’s a small studio, but you’re used to living in small quarters with other people!”
“Yes, but that’s exactly why it’s nice to come home to my own space,” he replied with some irony in his tone.
“Well, if you expect me to wait around for you while you’re gone for weeks at a time, then I expect you to move in with me, so that we have more time together when you’re home.” She saw from Jacob’s expression that he was finally getting closer to succumbing. “Just think of it like you’re coming home to a submarine with no one but you and me on it.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” he grinned.
“I knew that would work…It’s all about how you frame it!” They shared a laugh and drew closer into a tight hug before indulging in a long, passionate goodbye kiss that would have lasted much longer if Jacob didn’t feel like his family might be watching nearby.
****
And with that thought, Jacob drifted into a sweet slumber. But Zvi would remain awake for a few hours, afraid to find out what dream was waiting for him.
Chapter 20: Encounter in the Arabian Sea
Zvi eventually slept soundly that night and, to his substantial relief, on the nights that followed. It looked as if his oneiric worries weren’t going to materialize, despite the ever more disturbing developments that seemed to accompany the Dolphin’s mission.
Indeed, days 14 to 24 of the submarine’s seafaring involved an ever-increasing cadence of tension, as the new strategic landscape of the Middle East continued to crystallize. On day 14, after reaching the area off the coast of Mukalla, Yemen, the crew – along with the rest of the world – would learn of a dramatic announcement: the United States and Iran had been in secret talks culminating in an “understanding that will promote regional stability,” as the press release stated. According to the understanding, “the United States has agreed to negotiate the removal of its troops from Saudi Arabia and Bahrain by 2016.” In response to Iran’s unprecedented, nuclear-backed assertiveness, world oil prices had further increased to a high of 57% over the previous two weeks, reaching $188 per barrel.
On day 15, Saudi Arabia announced plans to develop an independent nuclear weapons capability, in addition to the ready-to-use atomic bombs that it had already purchased. On day 16, Turkey publicized its own plans to start developing a nuclear program. The update on day 16 also included a perturbing piece of news from home that a day later would be known to the rest of the world: the Israeli Prime Minister had been in a coma since the time he was hospitalized, 24 days ago. Naval command indicated that they were arranging for the Acting Prime Minister to participate in a nuclear launch drill, to ensure that he was versed in the procedure and so that he and the captain could become familiar with each other’s voices.
On day 17, Iran’s Supreme Leader declared that his country no longer recognized the sovereignty of Bahrain, and the Iranian parliament submitted a bill like the one passed by it in 1957, declaring that Bahrain was the 14th province of Iran. On day 18, the Iranian president proudly predicted that some time in the next six months Iran would have mastered “the full spectrum of nuclear technologies,” and would officially be an independent nuclear power. He also repeated his warning to the West not to try to stop Iran’s progress with a reminder of his country’s readiness to use the nuclear missiles already in its possession.
On day 19, the leader of Iran-backed Hezbollah in Lebanon boldly predicted that “The liberation of Palestine will soon come from the heavens.” Shortly after learning of the Hezbollah announcement, the Dolphin reached a point about 220 kilometers southwest of Salalah, Oman. Jacob was on sonar duty when he noticed two lines on the low-frequency sonar screen that gave him pause. A few minutes later, he heard air-bubble sounds that surface vessels don’t produce, strengthening his suspicion that these two lines represented two submarines.
“Sir, there are possibly two submarines appearing on the sonar.”
“Do you have an ID on them?”
“Listening for propeller signature, Sir.” Jacob listened carefully for the unique acoustic sound produced by the approaching vessels.
Daniel turned on the intercom and warned the entire crew, “Possibly two submarines approaching. Rig for silent running.” The seamen turned off the pumps, ventilation, and other noisy systems, and minimized their movements, talking only when necessary and in whispers.
For about 30 minutes, the crewmembers tried to be as inaudible as possible. Finally, Jacob reported that the submarines had passed. Daniel spoke into the intercom again: “Secure from silent running.” He turned to Jacob. “Did you ID the propellers?”
“They were Kilo class submarines. Probably Indian, Sir.”
Identifying a submarine by its propeller sound was an inexact science, so Daniel worried that the submarines might have been from another country possessing Kilo class submarines in their arsenal. Algeria had at least two, China had 12, India had ten, Poland had one, Iran had three, Romania had one, Vietnam had at least six, and Russia had at least 17 in active service.
The biggest and most lik
ely concern was that those two submarines belonged to Iran, and this possibility had to be communicated to headquarters so that they could be on the lookout for two Iranian submarines. Thus, on its 20th day at sea, at 0400 hours, the Dolphin rose to periscope depth to transmit a message back to naval command that 15 hours earlier, it had detected two Kilo submarines, believed to be of Indian provenance, moving at eight knots towards the Gulf of Aden. This intelligence was ultimately of limited value, even if it were known for a fact that these boats were actually two Iranian Kilo class submarines. There was no way to know, within a usefully narrow time range, when they would reach a threatening proximity to Israel without knowing more details regarding their exact course and speed. There was also the possibility that – to avoid the surfacing that is required by a Suez crossing – the submarines could opt to sail stealthily up the Gulf of Aqaba to Taba, which would still put the southern half of Israel (from Eilat up to Tel Aviv) within the 300-kilometer range of its Russian Klub-S (3M54) missiles.
The Israeli stealth ship reached the area off the shore of Salalah, Oman. With about a week left before the Dolphin arrived at the Strait of Hormuz, each day brought the submarine into increasingly hostile waters. In addition to this ever-mounting location risk, the perilously evolving geopolitical situation led Daniel to order much more frequent weapons drills. His goal with these exercises was to shorten the duration of the launch sequence as much as possible. He also wanted to improve the crew’s ability to fire weapons or anti-torpedo decoys while maneuvering, in case they encountered multiple threats in the area and needed to rise, dive, or turn while engaging in offensive or defensive measures.
The Dolphin is equipped with six 21-inch torpedo tubes and four 25.5-inch torpedo tubes. All of the tubes are installed in the forward dome and are used for firing mines, torpedoes, and missiles. Loading and firing of the weapons is managed from the tube control and launch systems. Spare torpedoes are stored behind the tube in racks.