The Jerusalem Inception - By Avraham Azrieli Page 0,85

information, to be added to the existing files. He estimated that the next few days would double his already vast database of potential religious agitators who were hostile to secular Zionism.

Many of the black hats mentioned Rabbi Abraham Gerster’s proclamation, which had been printed and plastered on walls all over West Jerusalem: The duty to guard Jerusalem supersedes the duty to study Talmud until the evil forces of the Muhammadians have been repelled from our sacred city. Such words from the leader of Neturay Karta—the most virulent anti-Zionist sect in Jerusalem—left all the other rabbis no choice but to permit their followers to volunteer for the trench-digging effort.

The reservists at the makeshift desk took down the information, handed out the shovels, and sent the volunteers to dig trenches near their homes, not only for their convenience, but to create a closer association between the physical work, which they were unaccustomed to, and their own families’ safety.

Shortly before noon, Elie noticed Tanya Galinski arrive at the building. She wore a light-blue dress, and her hair was gathered under a khaki cap. Elie followed her inside.

The office of Brigadier General Tappuzi was filled with officers, who congregated around a map of the city. Elie poured himself lukewarm coffee in a paper cup and stood in the back, listening.

“I have some bad news,” Tanya said. “General Bull has allowed the Jordanians to run cables from their anti-aircraft batteries to the UN radar station. There was some talk about safe passage for UN personnel to the airport in Amman, where General Bull’s private plane is kept.”

“There you have it,” Tappuzi said. “If we don’t disable that radar, Jerusalem is lost!”

“Not if the front remains quiet,” Tanya said. “We’re still hoping to avoid war or at least keep Jordan out of it.”

While they argued, Elie elbowed his way between the uniformed men and looked closely at the map. He found Government House on a ridge south of the city, controlling both parts of Jerusalem while guarding the roads to the southern half of the West Bank and east to Jericho and the Jordan River.

Tappuzi fingered the point on the map. “I’d like to get over there and blow up the radar, but there’s the Armistice Line, the Jordanian bunkers and patrols, the UN observers, the fences and landmines around Government House—”

“Getting caught by the UN,” Tanya said, “will make Israel look like the aggressor and destroy any chance of obtaining American and French support..”

“And in the hands of the Jordanians?” Tappuzi passed a finger under his throat. “Immediate execution!”

One of the officers said, “How about destroying the radar with artillery shells in the first moments of the war? We could later claim it was a mistake, a misfire, or something.”

A major in olive drabs and a large mustache said, “I don’t have precision artillery for something like this. The radar operates on Antenna Hill in the rear of the compound, protected by sandbags and concrete. It would take a lengthy barrage to do real damage, and I’ll probably hit the main building multiple times, kill a couple of hundred UN observers, and so on.”

“Forget it,” Brigadier General Tappuzi said. “The only option would be an attack from the air, which can’t be done until the radar is disabled, It’s the chicken and egg thing.”

“Same with the Jordanian anti-aircraft batteries,” the artillery major said. “Their bunkers are vulnerable only to surprise attack from the air, but our planes would be detected by the radar and shot down.”

Elie had heard enough to outline an operation in his mind that would save Jerusalem from Jordanian bombing and allow him to pluck Abraham’s son from the paratroopers’ corps. But a room full of loudmouthed sabra officers wasn’t the right forum. He would approach Tappuzi in private.

Lemmy reached the final destination in the early morning, finding Captain Zigelnick and a driver roasting potatoes by a campfire. He showed Zigelnick the codes he had jotted down at each of his destination points, which the captain compared to a list. They were correct.

Sanani showed up almost an hour later and cursed at the sight of Lemmy chewing on a piece of potato skin. His dark face shone with sweat as he dropped to the ground, panting. “I’m going to beat you next time, Gerster!”

“Good luck,” Lemmy said.

The rest of the soldiers trickled in, handed in their lists of scribbled codes, and unloaded their gear while sharing experiences with the others. Meanwhile, the surrounding yellow dunes began to heat up under the morning

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