There were none. “May God be with you. Move out,” said Motta and the commanders made their way back to their units.
What Motta and his men did not know was that an Egyptian lieutenant had escaped from the Israeli troops at the oasis and fled on a motorcycle to the battalion HQ at Nakhl. He had arrived one hour before Motta and his convoy.
When questioned by the battalion commander as to why he left his post, the lieutenant explained that he felt it was his duty to warn the rest of the battalion of the ferocity of the Jews and the makeup of their forces. To cover his own cowardice, the lieutenant exaggerated the Israeli numbers and their skill. He made it seem as if it were impossible to defeat them and that the Israelis would show no mercy when the Egyptian forces were overrun.
The lieutenant’s description was not lost on the major that commanded the battalion. He knew that the lieutenant was probably making up much of what he was saying to save his own skin. But he also knew there was probably some truth to what he was saying. After all, many veterans of previous encounters with the Israelis had told similar stories of the Israelis’ no mercy mindset. The major had been told he must hold the crossroads at all costs and that surrender was never to be an option for the commander of the garrison at Nakhl. It was a condition on being assigned the command. He was confident in the layout of his defenses. He had had plenty of time to prepare and had been warned of a possible attack just before the communication lines to Cairo had been cut. His artillery and machineguns would lay waste the attacking Israelis, then he would lead his own merciless counterattack and destroy them before they could retreat. This was his opportunity to show his superiors what he was made of and finally receive the promotion he desired. It was a solid plan.
As Motta’s vehicles drove out of the mouth of the mountain pass and lined up across the valley floor, the artillery, mortars and machineguns opened fire. Motta had ordered the troop trucks to line up behind the jeeps and halftracks. The trucks were taller than the other vehicles and, even though they didn’t have any weapons, they gave the impression that the mobile fighting force was much larger than it was in reality.
The Israeli mortars and heavy machine guns were having a murderous effect on the Egyptian lines. The Israelis were well-trained and their aim was accurate. The Egyptians were the opposite. Their commanders did not have much combat experience and preferred not to waste expensive ammunition on training. They would conserve their ammunition for real battle with the Israelis.
To everyone’s surprise, one of the Israeli artillery shells made a direct hit on an Egyptian artillery gun destroying it completely and killing the gun crew. It was a very lucky shot. The effect was amplified as a stack of artillery shells stored too close to the gun exploded in rapid succession creating a huge ball of flame like a mini-Armageddon. The well-placed shot and the resulting devastation struck fear into the Egyptian troops and their commanders.
The Egyptian major looked at the Israeli forces lined up and ready to attack. He informed his next in command, a young captain, that he was in charge of the garrison’s defenses while the major went to inspect the outposts and ensure there was no surprise attack from behind. The Egyptian troops and unit commanders watched as their battalion commander drove away in his jeep. Morale plummeted.
Motta gave the order to advance. The line of Israeli vehicles raced toward the Egyptian positions at full speed. The drivers prayed that there were no mines in the path between their vehicles and the Egyptians. Fortunately for the Israelis, the battalion commander had elected not to place mines in front of his positions so that this troops would not be hindered when they counterattacked. The vehicle-mounted machineguns opened fire, raking the Egyptian lines. The Israeli mortars fired their smoke rounds just as the Egyptian guns opened fire.
The battlefield was shrouded in smoke. The Egyptians knew the Israelis were coming but they could not see them and that made the situation even more frightening. A few decided to follow their commander’s example and left. Troops watched as their comrades ran from their posts. It was contagious. The Egyptian lines rolled up as more and more fled.
When the Israeli vehicles overran the Egyptian positions, they found them silent and empty. The smoke cleared. Only the dead and severely wounded remained. The rest of the Egyptian soldiers and their commanders had fled across the valley and disappeared into the hills. An entire Egyptian battalion had disappeared without a trace.
The vehicle commanders reported back to Motta watching from the hillside. He couldn’t believe it. The Israelis forces had taken the garrison at Nakhl without the loss of one Israeli soldier or even a vehicle. With the taking of the crossroads came the control of the area. All remaining Egyptian forces in the north of the Sinai were cut off from reinforcements and resupply.
The Israelis found six Russian-made armored troop carriers inside the garrison with the keys in the ignitions. They were commandeered and filled with ammunition for their machineguns, spare parts, and Israeli troops.
Within one hour Motta had his convoy on the move again except for a small contingent of paratroopers left to watch over the garrison and the wounded Egyptian soldiers until Sharon and the rest of the brigade arrived. They were behind schedule but now had a clear path to Eitan’s paratroop battalion at the Mitla Pass.
October 30, 1956 – Sinai Desert, Egypt
The sun was setting in the western horizon as Coyle and the two Spaniards walked through a flat desert valley. The ground was solid, the sun having baked the soil to a hard shell. There were few rocks, which Coyle found strange. Why no rocks? he thought. Maybe they were swallowed by the clay whenever it rained. That explanation seemed logical and he decided he must be correct, since there was nobody that spoke English to discuss his hypothesis.
In the distance, he saw another low mountain range like the one they had emerged from over an hour earlier. Everything seemed the same. He worried that they might be going in circles. He pulled out his compass on the end of the survival knife and checked their direction. They were still heading north as he had planned. He looked up at the mountains and noticed dark clouds sweeping in over the desert. “Maybe we’ll get some rain,” he said to the navigator.
The navigator looked confused again. He pointed to the dark clouds and motioned rain with his hands. The navigator nodded that he now understood and said, “Lluvia. Bien.”
“Yeah. Lluvia. Bien,” said Coyle.
The cargo assistant lagged behind. He was depressed because of his boss’s death. “Tell your buddy he has to keep up. We have a long way to go,” said Coyle using his hands to motion.
The navigator yelled back in Spanish to the boy. The boy picked up his pace. A flash of lightning from the approaching storm caught Coyle’s attention. There was another flash that followed within a few seconds. The air cracked from the thunder. The wind was kicking up. The dark clouds were moving fast, directly toward them. Coyle looked down at the hair on his forearm. It rose like a balloon had been rubbed against it, creating static electricity.
“Oh, shit,” said Coyle as it dawned on him that they were the tallest and wettest objects on the desert floor. Their bodies would act as conductors to the lighting. Coyle looked around. There was a small grouping of boulders on a rise about a half mile off. It was better than nothing. “Come on,” he said motioning to the others and breaking into a run for the rock formation.
“Vamanos,” said the navigator to the boy. They broke into a run and followed Coyle toward the rocks.
The storm moved toward them like an angry beast with more violent lightning strikes and loud claps of thunder. Coyle hoped it would start raining. Rain would make everything around them wet and they would no longer be the only conductors. A bolt of lightning hit the desert floor and the crash of thunder followed immediately. The storm was almost on them. Coyle was the first to reach the boulders. He turned and waved the others on like a coach cheering them on. “Move your asses,” he said.
The navigator made it to the boulders and turned to chee
r on the boy. More lightning strikes. Coyle and the navigator knelt beside the boulders and watched in horror as two more lightning strikes hit the earth with bright flashes. A third strike hit the boy. His momentum carried him forward and he tumbled to the ground in a mix of dust and smoke. The navigator moved to help him. Coyle pulled him back. “No. You can’t help him,” said Coyle. “He’s gone.”
Coyle was right. The boy had died the moment the lightning entered his head and exited his shoe forming a long-charred tunnel through his body and organs. There was no blood. The wound was instantly cauterized. He laid motionless on the desert floor. Smoke rose from the hole in the top of the boy’s head and out a hole in his shoe.
Coyle and the navigator waited until the storm passed before emerging from behind the boulders. It still hadn’t rained. Coyle used his knife to crack hardened clay and dig a hole in the desert floor. They buried the boy to keep the critters away until they could return and retrieve his body. Coyle and the navigator stood over the grave. “What was his name?” said Coyle.
“Nombre?” said the navigator.
“Yeah. Nombre.”
“Fue Louis,” said the navigator.
Coyle grunted. He thought about asking the navigator’s name but decided against it. He had been told the man’s name when they first met, but he had forgotten it. Instead he said, “You like meatloaf?”
The navigator looked confused. Coyle reached into his rucksack and pulled out the meatloaf sandwich he had retrieved from the cockpit. He tore it in two and gave half to the navigator. “Gracias,” said the navigator.
“You’re welcome,” said Coyle.
They ate staring down at the boy’s grave. For some reason, it seemed appropriate to eat. Like a wake.
October 30, 1956 – Mitla Pass, Egypt
It was night by the time Motta’s column reached the eastern end of the Mitla Pass. Lightning from a distant storm in the north silhouetted the vehicles as they approached. Eitan’s paratroopers were relieved and cheered. They were slightly alarmed when they saw the six Soviet armored troop transports at the head of the column but relaxed when they saw the heads of Israeli drivers popping out of the hatches.
When they pulled to a stop, Motta’s paratroopers hopped out of their vehicles and embraced Eitan’s paratroopers like long lost cousins. Both groups of Israelis were happy to see each other. Tears welled in some of their eyes. Others laughed and made jokes. They had linked up and accomplished their mission. Motta’s troops had been traveling and fighting for two days straight and were on the verge of exhaustion. Before they could sleep they would need to set their vehicles up in defensive positions, set up their weapons and dig foxholes where necessary. Eitan’s paratroopers kept watch on the pass and surrounding terrain.
Sharon and the rest of the brigade were not far behind. Near midnight, they pulled into the defensive perimeter. Like Motta’s men, they dug their foxholes, set up their weapons and parked their vehicles. With Eitan’s paratroopers keeping watch, the rest of brigade ate their first hot meal and slept. The cavalry had saved the day but needed a nap before they would be ready to fight again. Even the bravest of men can only go so long without sleep.
October 30, 1956 – Sinai Desert, Egypt
The night was cold. The desert had given up its heat within the first two hours after sunset. Coyle and the Spaniard were exhausted from walking most of the day and tomorrow didn’t look like it was going to be any easier, especially since they were running low on water.
They found shelter in a rock outcropping. The Spaniard had gathered kindling from dried up bushes and a tree that had long since died. Coyle warned him that the fire needed to be kept small so it would not be spotted. They did not want to be taken prisoner by the Egyptians. They ate two packages of stale crackers from the survival kit. They would save the one can of spam until the morning when they needed the added energy it would give them.
They were lucky. They both still had their flight jackets that provided welcome warmth. Coyle thought about trading off guard duty while the other slept, but he realized that they were both so exhausted either of them could easily fall asleep during their watch. He abandoned the idea. They would risk it. They both slept. Coyle dreamed of snakes and scorpions.
October 31, 1956 - Mediterranean Sea
It was three in the morning when the Ibrahim swung out in an arc and approached the port of Haifa from the west. Once in range, Tamsyn ordered his main guns to open fire. The bombardment rained down two hundred shells in just a few minutes.
On shore, the two security guards watching over the Israelis’ precious oil supply ran for cover. They both served in the Israeli navy as reservists and knew the power of a destroyer’s guns. A shell scored a direct hit on one of the oil bunkers and ignited the petroleum fumes at the top of the tank. The explosion lit up the night sky and the nearby port.
On board the Ibrahim the crew cheered on seeing the explosion. As the light from the explosion faded, one of the lookouts on board the Ibrahim spotted the outline of a large vessel docked in the port. He informed the gunnery commander, suggesting that it might be one of the Israelis’ destroyers. The gunnery commander ordered the gun crews to change their target to the port in hopes of hitting the ship while it was boxed in in the harbor and an easy target. Unbeknownst to the gun commander the ship tied to the dock was not Israeli. It was French.
The French captain and his officers were reviewing the status of the Egyptian fleet with Israeli intelligence officers and going over last-minute details of the planned assault on Port Said when the first explosions occurred. They instinctively ran for their ship.
The attack of the Egyptian destroyer on Haifa presented a difficult political problem for the French. They were not technically at war with the Egyptians until 4:30 a.m. which was still several hours away. If the French were found to be colluding with the Israelis hours before their invasion it could cause an international crisis.
The French captain had strict orders not to engage the Egyptian ships until the ultimatum expired. He was however allowed to defend his ship should it come under fire from any aggressor. The first shell landed in the harbor as the French officers reached the gangplank of the Kersaint – a cold-war era destroyer with three twin five-inch gun turrets controlled by the world’s latest gunnery radar system.
Boarding his vessel, the French captain was in no mood for niceties, and ordered his gun crews to return fire. The Kersaint’s guns swung around and fired in unison.
On board the Ibrahim, Captain Tamsyn knew he was outgunned when six five-inch sells landed around his ship. Fortunately for the Egyptian crew, the French missed with their first volley. Tamsyn was not going to wait around for a second volley. He ordered his helmsman to take the destroyer out to sea at full speed. Tamsyn knew that the Ibrahim stood a much better chance of surviving a gun battle with a modern warship in open sea. Even with modern radar-guided weapons, hitting a moving target while taking into account currents and the rocking motion of the waves was not an easy task for any gunnery commander. Most of the time it was doggedness or sheer luck that allowed either side to hit the other. The Ibrahim was lightly armored for a destroyer and it would not take much to sink her if the enemy gunners found their mark.
Tamsyn ordered his guns to continue to fire on the destroyer in hopes they would cast off their lines and become more inaccurate in their firing as their ship moved. It worked and the Kersaint gave chase.
The Ibrahim had a substantial lead by the time the Kersaint was up to speed, but the French vessel was faster by almost three knots. Tamsyn ordered a change of course and steered toward Lebanon. The Ibrahim’s best hope was to reach Syrian waters and the safety of the Syrian shore batteries. The Israelis were not yet at war with Syria, but the Syrians were unpredictable and might fire on an Israeli warship chasing an Egyptian destroyer.
Tamsyn and his crew were pleasantly surprised when the Kersaint broke off her pursuit. The Egyptian crew cheered. Tamsyn was more pensive about the unexpect
ed move. Why did they break off their attack? he thought.
The answer came in the form of two Israeli destroyers and a frigate, an Israeli task force commanded by Captain Shmuel Yanai.
The French captain on the Kersaint knew that his argument for defending his ship was weak at best once the Egyptian destroyer headed out to sea. He did not want to tip France’s hand in the upcoming war. He radioed the Israeli navy to inform them of the Ibrahim’s course and returned to the fleet sailing near Port Said.
The Israelis sent a Douglas Skytrain C-47 transport plane to search for the Ibrahim. The Israelis often used their aircraft for different types of missions. They had to make do with what they had on hand and not worry about the plane’s intended use. It didn’t take long before the C-47, nicknamed Dakota, spotted and identified the Egyptian destroyer. The pilot radioed the ship’s position to the Israeli task force sailing along the southern coast.
The Egyptian crew spotted the slow-moving transport plane shadowing them. The Dakota’s pilot was cautious and kept out of range of the Ibrahim’s anti-aircraft guns. Tamsyn radioed the Egyptian Air Force and requested aircraft reinforcements in case the Israelis sent their jets. His request was denied. The Egyptian Air Force commanders did not want to send any of their planes that far into Israeli territory when they were needed to protect the homeland.
Sèvres Protocol Page 15