October 30, 1956 – Cairo, Egypt
Standing by the radiofax machine, Nasser read the ultimatum letter that had been forwarded to him by his embassy in London. At first, he thought it must be some sort of mistake. After giving it further thought, he realized it was deadly serious. This is insane, he thought. They know I cannot possibly accept this. Why would they risk angering Jordan, Iraq and the Saudis by siding with the Israelis? He considered for a few moments more, then came to that conclusion that they must be bluffing. They have no intention of going to war. It was the only thing that made sense.
SEVEN
October 30, 1956 – Mitla Pass, Egypt
It was just past noon when Major Eitan received a radio call informing him that a French reconnaissance plane had spotted an Egyptian armored column heading for the Mitla Pass. There was little they could do except reposition their two cannons to face the pass. Even that wouldn’t really matter. The Egyptian tanks would run right over the Israeli positions once they arrived. It was far too early to expect Sharon and his tanks to arrive in time. The Israeli paratroopers would fight furiously because that is what they did best, but if there was ever a lost cause, this was it. He informed his men and they made their last-minute preparations.
October 30, 1956 – Mitla Pass, Egypt
The Egyptian armored column approached the eastern mouth of the Mitla Pass. The Egyptians were looking forward to giving the paratroopers a good whopping. They remembered the Arab-Israeli war when the Israeli armor and air force destroyed many of their tanks. Now, it was their turn. The Israeli paratroopers were lightly armed and would be no match for the Egyptian armor. They would make them bleed.
They were less than a mile from the road leading into the mountains. The tank commanders riding in their open hatches could hear nothing above the sound of their tanks’ engines. Each kept an eye out for any approaching enemy vehicles or aircraft. It was the commander in the lead tank that first saw the strange sight on the horizon. It was difficult to tell what it was.
At first, he thought it was a camel caravan because of how it stretched across the desert horizon. As the sight drew closer he realized it wasn’t camels at all. It was a squadron of twenty propeller-driven P-51 Mustang fighters flying just fifteen feet off the ground and heading straight for the armored column.
The commander radioed the other vehicles in the column and they turned to face the oncoming threat. He requested air support which he knew would arrive too late if it arrived at all.
The Mustangs stayed low, making it difficult for the columns mobile anti-aircraft guns to get a good angle. The Mustangs were offering their front profile as a target. There wasn’t much to hit. The Egyptians unleashed their anti-aircraft guns and the machine guns on their tanks and armored cars. For a few seconds, it looked like the Israeli pilots were planning on ramming the tanks at high speed. At the last moment, the Mustangs pulled up and released the five-hundred pound bombs that each carried under its belly. The pilots focused their attacks on the tanks and several achieved direct hits. The bombs obliterated the tanks, sending several of their turrets tumbling through the air. The Mustangs swung around and unloaded with a mix of Hispano 20-mm cannons and 50-cal machine guns strafing the Egyptian column. Once the Israeli pilots had fired all but a few rounds in their guns, they headed for home back the way they came.
The Egyptian armored column was a shamble with a dozen vehicles burning. Dead and wounded Egyptian soldiers lay scattered on the ground. Their commander no longer considered his brigade fit to fight. He collected the wounded and dead, then turned his surviving vehicles away from the mountain pass and headed back across the Suez where it was safe. The Israeli paratroopers on the other side of the pass had been saved and they didn’t even know it.
October 30, 1956 – Cairo, Egypt
Britain’s Ambassador to Egypt, Sir Humphrey Trevelyan, was shown into the office of the President and was greeted by Nasser. They sat. Trevelyan was fidgety. “Are you okay, Sir Humphrey?” said Nasser.
“Yes. Yes, of course. It’s just all this canal business,” said Trevelyan. “I don’t sleep well.”
“Would you care for some tea?”
“No, thank you. I am quite alright. How may I help you Mr. President?”
“Are you aware of the letter your government sent to our embassy in London concerning the current Israeli invasion of our sovereign state?”
“Yes, of course. I want to assure you, I have nothing to do with it.”
“Of course not, Sir Humphrey. I recognize it as the work of Prime Minister Eden. And you may inform your Prime Minister that we respectfully decline.”
“Decline?”
“Yes. Decline.”
“That is a grave mistake, Mr. President. Prime Minister Eden is not a man to be trifled with.”
“And I do not care to trifle with him. But Egypt cannot accept a cessation of hostilities until the Israelis depart from our land. It is not possible.”
“I see. And you understand the consequences of such an action?”
“I am not taking any action. I am simply refusing to comply with Britain and France’s request.”
“Request?”
“Yes. I find it incredible that Britain or France would demand anything from Egypt after the way we have been treated. Therefore, it must be a request. One which I respectfully decline.”
“I see. Is there anything else you wish for me to convey to my government?”
“Beyond my warmest regards… no. You may leave.”
Trevelyan rose and left Nasser’s office, dumbfounded.
October 30, 1956 – London, England
Eden stood in his office and dictated a letter to Eisenhower. His secretary struggled to keep up. “Egypt has brought this upon herself by endangering an international waterway, by colluding with other Arab nations to attack Israel and by continually defying the U.N.’s mandates,” said Eden. “Britain wanted to bring the letter of ultimatum up to a vote in the United Nations until we realized that the U.N. could not act quickly enough to protect the canal. Britain and France had to act to protect our vital military and commercial interests. We pray you understand that we truly had no choice in the matter.”
“Do you believe Eisenhower will accept your explanation?” said the secretary.
“Don’t be dense. Of course he will accept it. What choice does he have? He’s not going to go to war over Egypt, especially not against his two most important allies in Europe… not if he wants NATO to survive,” said Eden. “Eisenhower is focused on Soviet aggression. He needs Britain and France to remain strong so they can help him defend Europe against the communists. He will stomp up and down and make a lot of noise to impress the other national leaders with his concern, but in the end the Americans will play ball and do nothing. It’s somewhat ironic… Eisenhower hates war. That’s really his biggest weakness. He’s afraid to use the big stick.”
October 30, 1956 – Washington D.C., USA
Eisenhower sat in the oval office, Eden’s letter on the desk next to him as he wrote a response. He needed to be careful. He was only six days from an election and the American public was watching with great interest. If Eisenhower helped Egypt he would lose the Jewish vote in New York, New Jersey and Florida, resulting in the loss of the presidency. He had already made the decision to sacrifice his second term as president if it meant peace. Eisenhower had decided long ago to navigate his life on a moral course no matter the consequences.
Eden was right about Eisenhower needing Britain and France as a check against Soviet aggression. But Britain and France had far more to lose than America if a Soviet invasion did occur. Eden was right about one other thing… Eisenhower hated war. He had seen enough death and destruction for a lifetime. He would do anything to avoid it… almost. He had led the allies to victory against the axis forces in World War II. He knew how to use the big stick better than most.
The letter he wrote to Eden in response was diplomatic and not overreactive. Yes, he was
mad. Really mad. But he was also the leader of a Superpower. He knew it and he knew Eden knew it. He needed to be the adult in the room. The letter started by reminding Eden of Britain’s obligation under a Tripartite Agreement to defend Egypt against any aggressor. By crossing into the Sinai, Israel was clearly the aggressor in the current conflict. Britain was therefore obligated to defend Egypt against Israel. Eisenhower knew there was little chance of Britain accepting its obligation, especially given Eden’s personal hatred of Nasser. Eisenhower was simply pointing out that Britain was on shaky ground legally. He also assuring Eden that America would keep its word and support the agreement as promised.
Eisenhower went on to point out that it was the United Nations, of which both Britain and France were member countries, that was tasked with the responsibility of settling disputes, not the individual member countries. Britain and France should both support the U.N. ceasefire declaration when it was finalized and abandon their own.
He went on to explain that his biggest concern was that the Soviets would use this conflict to drive a wedge between Western and Middle Eastern nations. The Soviets were patiently waiting in the wings to offer the Arabs assistance when they were willing to accept it. Britain and France were playing into the Soviet’s strategy and the Soviets were only too willing to exploit current events to their advantage. He was concerned that Britain and France’s actions could bring about World War III if the Soviet’s entered the fight. He appealed to Eden to recognize the higher cause and keep the peace.
Eisenhower knew that the letter would fall on deaf ears. Britain and France were committed to see this through and he was determined to stop them. He just didn’t know how at this point. Britain and France had both shot themselves in their respective feet but failed to recognize it. Britain and France were dependent on Middle Eastern oil to drive their economies and their militaries. Any interruption in the shipping lanes through the Suez Canal could have a disastrous effect on both countries. They were playing with fire.
Experience had taught Eisenhower that it was better to wait for a workable solution then to act half-heartedly. He would let events unfold and look for an opportunity that he hoped would materialize before it was too late and the world spiraled out of control. He was a man struggling to keep his balance on a very thin wire.
October 30, 1956 – Sinai Highway 50, Egypt
Coyle sat in the cockpit of his C-119 along with his Spanish flight crew. His new copilot spoke some English which Coyle saw as an improvement over his French crew. He could see the two Meteor jet escorts out his side window flying beside his larger aircraft like guardian angels. The Israeli Air Force had sent their jets to the Egyptian border as a precaution. Coyle wondered if he wouldn’t be safer without them. His plane was not considered hostile to the Egyptians since the French Air Force symbols had been painted over with company decals on the wings and a Spanish flag on the fuselage.
The navigator checked his calculations and spoke to the co-pilot in Spanish. “He says we should be approaching the drop location,” said the copilot to Coyle.
“Good. Find me a nice flat place to set her down,” said Coyle.
“Why? Our instructions were to parachute the jeeps and supplies.”
“If we parachute them they are likely to get damaged in the landing. From what I hear, this convoy has enough problems. Two more broken jeeps aren’t gonna help much.”
“You are the pilot,” said the copilot with a shrug.
“Yes. I am,” said Coyle with a smile.
The C-119 and the two Israeli jets flew over Sharon’s convoy twisting its way through a mountain pass. “That would be our supply drop,” said Sharon looking up.
Brigitte recognized the twin-tailed aircraft that roared over her head and said to herself, “Coyle?”
Coyle spotted a level valley a few miles ahead of the vehicles. He did a quick pass to ensure there were no large rocks or hidden gullies. Except for the road carved through the middle of the valley, the ground was featureless and smooth. “Flat as a pancake,” said Coyle.
He banked the aircraft and brought it in line with the longest part of the valley. “Why don’t we use the road?” said the copilot.
“Potholes,” said Coyle. “We’re safer landing off-road. The soil looks like clay. It’s probably hard and level. Just be ready to throttle up if we see something nasty and have to abort.”
“Si, Señor,” said the copilot.
The wheels of the C-119 touched down on the hard-packed valley floor. The propellers pitch reversed, slowing the aircraft down and kicking up a dust storm. At the end of the valley the plane turned around and headed for the road that ran through the center of the valley floor. It pulled to a stop as the first of the convoy’s vehicles exited the mouth of the mountain pass.
The two Israeli jet escorts were ordered to return to their airbases in Israel. The pilots had other priorities and could not wait for the C-119 to unload, reload and takeoff. Their mission was to see that the vehicles and supplies were delivered to the 202nd. They had accomplished their objective and were anxious to get back into the fight. They peeled off and headed northeast. The C-119 would return alone. It was not an Israeli plane with Israeli markings. There was little risk the Egyptians would attack it. In addition, the Israelis were quickly gaining air superiority over the northeast Sinai which they had already overrun. The Egyptians were more focused on defending their ground forces from the advancing Israeli task forces than destroying cargo aircraft.
With a rucksack over his shoulder, Coyle stepped out of the side door in the aircraft’s fuselage along with the rest of the flight crew. “Let’s get her unloaded as fast as possible,” he said to the crew.
The flight crew went to work, opening the back doors on the cargo hold and lowering the steel ramps. The first jeep pulled up and Brigitte jumped out with a big smile on her face. “Hello, Darling,” said Coyle.
“Tom, what are you doing here?” said Brigitte wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing his face a dozen times.
“The French… I mean the Spanish sent me on an errand,” he said.
Sharon approached. He didn’t look happy. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you took a big risk landing here,” said Sharon.
“I’m the guy that just brought you two working jeeps and a cargo hold full of spare parts. You can just say thank you,” said Coyle.
“You gave away our position.”
“That could be, but I figured it would be worth it not to damage your jeeps in a drop.”
“That is true. We need the jeeps and the parts,” said Sharon, swallowing his pride. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Can you take our wounded back with you?” said Sharon.
“Of course. My flight crew could use some help unloading. I’d like to take off as soon as possible.”
“I will see to it,” said Sharon moving off and barking out orders in Hebrew to his men.
Coyle turned back to Brigitte and unslung the rucksack. “Are you staying?” said Brigitte.
“No. Just thought you could use a few things.”
“You brought me presents?”
“I did. I’m a really thoughtful boyfriend.”
“Yes. You are,” said Brigitte grabbing the rucksack from his hands, setting it on the ground and opening it. Inside was two bottles of her favorite wine, a large block of hard cheese, two boxes of crackers, three large baguettes, two dried salamis, three cans of sardines, and a bar of soap. “A bar of soap, really?” she said holding it up.
“I figured you could use it.”
“I can if I can ever find enough water to take a quick bath,” she sniffed herself. “Do I smell bad? I can’t tell anymore.”
“Darling, you smell like fine roses to me,” he said giving her a big hug and a kiss.
“You Americans. You are such romantics.”
“Damn right.”
Brigitte tore a piece of bread from one of the baguettes and opened a c
an of sardines. “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” she said.
“So, what are you doing with the Israelis? I thought France was angry with them,” said Coyle.
“Things are not always as they seem,” she said. “I suppose I do owe you an explanation.”
“It’d be nice. Seeing how I came all this way.”
“I wanted to report this war from the beginning.”
“How did you even know there was going to be a war?”
“I have my contacts.”
“In the Israeli army?”
“Yes. Well… I’ve met a lot of people over the years.”
“I’m gonna have to call bullshit.”
“Don’t. Just trust me. If I could tell you, I would.”
“Alright. Any idea when you’ll be home?”
“Not really. When it’s over I suppose.”
“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”
“I know you will. That’s why I love you,” said Brigitte taking another bite of bread. “Do you want some of this?”
“No. I’ve got a sandwich in the cockpit.”
“A sandwich? What kind of sandwich?”
“Meatloaf and ketchup. The kind you don’t like.”
“Ah. Very smart.”
“No. Just crafty.”
They laughed and enjoyed their few minutes together as the Israelis unpacked the last of the supplies from the aircraft and rolled out the two jeeps. The Israelis loaded up their wounded soldiers, twenty-two in all. It was time for Coyle to go. “We’ll, darling. I’d better let you get back to your war,” said Coyle. “I’d try and talk you into coming with me, but that wouldn’t be right. You are who you are and that’s why I love you.”
Sèvres Protocol Page 12