Naomi's Quest

By Dan Peled

Meir Shalev, an emissary of the Haganah on a covert mission in Nazi Germany to rescue Jews from the closing jaws of the holocaust, is captured while attempting to save the children of two prominent families. He orchestrates a daring escape from captivity, but his troubles are far from over, and the echoes from the fog of war will reverberate far into the future. Years later, a young New York artist feels these echoes as she fights to save her marriage and hold her family together in the face of the revelation of long-buried secrets.

From the smoldering ashes of Europe to the bloody battles of the Six-Day and Yom Kippur wars to the struggles of a fledging nation, Naomis Quest traces the stories of two women and a man as their lives unfold against the turbulent backdrop of the birth of the Israeli nation-state. An epic saga rooted in real historical events, Naomi's Quest weaves together a cast of unforgettable characters and culminates in a shocking, explosive finale.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 27, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450252362

Dan Peled

Peled served in the Israeli army Special Forces. After completing his military service, he immigrated to the U.S. to complete his studies in structural engineering. He worked in the construction industry as a project manager, later becoming a senior vice president of a construction firm in New York. He moved to Southern California and continued his construction career, forming his own construction company. He has written twelve novels covering Espionage, Thrillers, Mystery and Family saga. Peled has two married children & three grandchildren.

Book preview

PART ONE

Adagio

CHAPTER 1

The thick grapevine covered the exterior of the ancient two-story house, its branches spreading like fingers along the wall, the myriad green leaves and dark grapes hiding much of the exterior. The vine had made its way to a second-story window, its lush leaves now poking inside the bedroom.

A young woman sat by the mirror, brushing her unruly curls. She looked out the window, and her eyes followed a ragged squadron of geese skimming the distant treetops. She stopped for a moment, straining to make out the distant noise that was getting louder and beginning to sound like shouting.

She put the hairbrush on an oval dresser and ran to the open window. The sun was setting over tranquil meadows. She spotted a mob of shouting men moving toward the house. They wore brown shirts and red armbands with a black Swasika in it’s center, waving a large red flag with a huge swastika emblem at its center. She quickly closed the window and ran downstairs, where she found her mother preparing dinner in the kitchen.

There’s a mob out in the streets! she shouted to her mother. It looks like they’re coming toward our house. She paused, listening to the loud shouting outside the house. Where’s Papa? she asked anxiously.

Her mother looked elegant in her simple white dress. She wore her blond hair tied back in a black ribbon, and her high cheekbones gave her a noble appearance. She stopped stirring the chicken soup in the pot on the stove. Hilde held her daughter close to her and calmed her down, patting her hair. It’s all right, Ruthy, her mother told her. They don’t mean bad, these Nazis. It’s a fad that will pass soon. Don’t worry, my child. Papa is upstairs finishing his shower. He’ll be coming down soon ...

She stopped and listened as the raucous sounds of the men shouting outside grew louder.

Juden, raus! the mob shouted. Jews, come out!

Now they could see the shouting mob through the kitchen window. Ruth’s mother paled, and she ran to the window.

At the head of the mob stood a young blond youth. He pointed out the house to the mob and said, "This is the Juden house. Do what I told you. Then he clicked his leather boots, raised his right hand, and shouted, Sieg Heil!"

Hilde watched in bewilderment as three of the men began pulling hard on the ancient grapevines. After several attempts, the vine collapsed onto the street with a loud thud.

Ruthy emitted a sound of hurt and anger as the mob began to smash the crimson grapes onto the street’s cobblestones, using their boots and the shovels they were carrying.

Jacob, Ruthy’s father, came running downstairs and into the kitchen. He held Hilde and Ruthy, patting his daughter’s hair. He was a tall man with a full black beard, a prominent straight Roman nose, and large gray eyes. He wore a skullcap and a jacket and tie for dinner.

Close the window, Hilde, and let us have our dinner, he said in a calm voice. Hilde did so, and after looking at the mob, Jacob continued. It’s their leader, Wolfgang, the son of Schultz, the cobbler. I’ve encountered him twice before. The boy is completely out of his wits. I will have to talk to his father after the Sabbath. This is going too far.

Jacob led his family downstairs to the dining room. Hilde brought the soup from the kitchen, removed the white embroidered cloth covering the challah bread, and lit the Sabbath candles.

The sounds of the mob, emanating through the dining room window, accompanied the blessing of the Sabbath candles as Hilde stood, covering her face with the palms of her hands and blessed the candles.

Dirty Jews! the mob shouted. Death to the Jews! They began throwing stones at the house.

Jacob stood up and clenched his fist. I’m going out there to chase them away. I will not allow my house to be desecrated by these hoodlums. This is the house of our ancestors. They have no right to do this. He took a crowbar from the storage room located near the kitchen and headed toward the entrance.

No, Jacob. Please don’t go out there, Hilde begged. The mob will hurt you. I didn’t want to tell you, but they killed a Jewish man last week in a nearby town. Please, Jacob, don’t go out there.

I must go, he said. It’s not just the house that I’m worried about. Alfred is late for dinner. He stopped speaking as they heard the mob shout.

Here comes the Jew boy! Let’s get him!

Jacob ran to the front door and opened it. He saw his son, Alfred, running away from the mob , toward a cluster of trees, as the leader, Wolfgang, shouted to his men, Capture the bastard! Let’s lynch the Jew boy.

Stop this madness! Jacob shouted. Don’t hurt my boy. His voice was drowned out by the shouting mob as they gained on Alfred, who was a strong, well-conditioned youth.

Jacob ripped off his jacket and ran toward the mob, holding the crowbar in his right hand. His cries echoed through the cobblestoned streets as neighbors began to look out the windows of the scattered farmhouses.

Leave my son alone! Jacob shouted as he ran to Schultz and held him by his shoulder with his free left hand. He ripped the red armband with the black swastika off Schultz’s shirt. The youth turned in disbelief, facing Jacob.

With a swift move, Jacob slapped his face hard, and then he ran hard toward his son, who was now encircled by the mob. Jacob stood in front of Alfred, his crowbar at the ready.

Wolfgang Schultz, Jacob shouted, you should be ashamed of yourself! I have known you since you were a little baby. I helped your mother deliver you, and I was at your christening. I knew your grandfather, and my grandfather knew your great-grandfather.

Jacob tried to tone his voice down, but it came out even stronger, and he shouted, What went wrong, Schultz? Why are you leading these men to do all this? Who is paying you for this?

Schultz stood there in disbelief, as if Jacob had stolen the thunder from him. Then he straightened his shirtsleeve and clicked his heels together, shouting, Sieg Heil! and raising his right arm in the Nazi salute.

Schultz turned to Jacob with hateful eyes, and then he shouted to the mob, Let the boy and his father go! We will finish them off later.

The mob parted as Jacob led Alfred away. As they walked toward the house, Schultz shouted, Jacob Strauss, I will never forget what you’ve done to me. Your days here are numbered. We will be back.

As he looked back, Jacob saw Schultz and two of his mob friends squashing some of the grapes into a crimson pulp, the juice soaking into the cobblestones. All went blank as he fell into Alfred’s arms.

A stone had hit his temple, and blood began dripping onto his snow-white shirt. Alfred carried him into the house and locked the door behind him.

CHAPTER 2

Jacob sat at the kitchen table at the cobbler’s house, studying his friend.

I must tell you, Jacob, Manfred Schultz said, the boy is mad. He is totally involved with those Nazis. The other day, we had a visitor from Berlin, a high-ranking Nazi. He was trying to recruit more of our young people. The cobbler looked at Jacob with a forlorn expression in his eyes. Then, after a while, he continued.

I don’t know where this is going to lead us, Jacob, but I smell trouble, big trouble. Adolf Hitler, their leader, is bent on gaining power. They say he aims to become chancellor.

The cobbler paused and looked at Dr. Jacob Strauss, his friend for so many years. Jacob sat in a high-backed chair, his head wrapped in a thick white bandage. His face was pale. He still had not recovered from the attack by the Nazi mob. He spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

Manfred, you and I must stop this madness, or it will consume all of us. You know my family history. You knew my grandfather Solomon. Our family has endured so much. Our family tree goes back to the days of the Spanish Inquisition. After generations of suffering, we escaped from that hell to come to Germany. We thought that here in Germany, we would be safe. He paused and then sighed as he noticed that Manfred’s eyes were devoid of any emotion.

This mad lunatic, Adolf Hitler, is feeding on the panic caused by inflation and unemployment, and he appeals both to the mobs and the general public.

Jacob shifted in his chair.

Hitler’s rhetoric is poison. But it looks like he is succeeding. What am I to do, Manfred? We’ve lived in this village for so many years. Did you see what your son and his mob did to my house? It’s madness. How can we stop them? He wiped the beads of perspiration soaking into his bloodstained bandage as they dripped onto his forehead.

Manfred sat quietly smoking his pipe, and gray rings of smoke rose toward the ceiling. His large red hands were folded on his chest, and he stared at Jacob for a long time before speaking in a soft voice.

I had a talk with Wolfgang. He brought a high-ranking Nazi to our house yesterday. They told me they have plans to get rid of all the Jews in Germany. They want to spread their hatred throughout the country, and they are succeeding. They have begun to attack Jewish people and institutions in Berlin and elsewhere, I am told.

How did Wolfgang respond to that rubbish? Jacob asked. It’s too late for Wolfgang. He is now totally involved with these Nazis. Jacob waited anxiously as Manfred continued.

Hitler is using the Jews as scapegoats, blaming them for the economic debacle as well as for other failures in Germany. I’m afraid that you may be running out of time in this country. Maybe you should think of moving your family elsewhere in Europe, perhaps to England … or even to Palestine. I hear they’re doing wonderful work there. I read an article in a magazine a few years ago. They have pioneers who turn swampland into lush farms. Maybe you should look into this, eh?" Manfred concluded without remorse, his eyes steely and watery.

Manfred puffed on his pipe as his wife, Giselle, brought in an apple strudel and a steaming pot of tea, placing them on the table. She glanced at Jacob’s bloodstained bandaged head and shook her head. I am sorry, Dr. Strauss, she said. I wish I could talk some sense into Wolfgang, but I have a feeling that it’s too late for him. He is too far gone with those Nazis. She shrugged her shoulders and left the men alone.

They ate the homemade apple strudel and drank their tea in tense silence. After a while, Jacob stood up and thanked his host.

I appreciate your advice, Manfred. I will think about it, but I don’t believe I can leave this village. This is my home, my birthplace. How can I uproot my family? I have my practice here and have many patients who need my care. How can I leave them? Some of them are sick. They need me.

So does your family, Jacob. They also need you now, and you must protect them. Do you understand me?

I do, Manfred, I do.

As he was walking out of the house, he heard Manfred calling his name, and he turned back to him.

Please understand, Jacob. I appreciate that you come to our house to check on the health of my mother. She also appreciates this. He hesitated for a moment as he turned his eyes down. But from now on, I cannot see you anymore, he finally told Jacob. It’s very hard for me to tell you this. We grew up together, and we’ve known each other’s families for so many years.

Jacob stared at him in disbelief.

Times are changing. You have no idea how strong the Nazis are. My own son has threatened to do me harm, Jacob. He and the Nazi official told me, ‘Do not deal with the Jews anymore … or you’ll be looking for trouble.’ So, my friend, we must part ways. Please do not come anymore. I’m sorry. He turned his head and stared at the floor.

Finally, Jacob understood. He turned around slowly and walked away from the house that he had known so well—and perhaps from his past—forever.

CHAPTER 3

Ruth Strauss was a shy girl with a will of iron. At the age of seventeen, she had blossomed into womanhood with firm, youthful breasts, a narrow waistline, and a tall, erect figure that lent her an air of nobility. From her father, she had inherited her straight Roman nose, and from her mother, her lithe figure, her green eyes with arching eyebrows, and her curly blond hair.

On this late Thursday afternoon, Ruthy sat among her friends in a barn belonging to the father of one of her friends, talking heatedly about their future. All eyes turned to her when she spoke to the group, her shyness forgotten and her voice rising with excitement.

We have no choice, my friends, she said. She pointed her finger in anger at a young man sitting opposite her. How can you say this to us, Hans? Do you really believe that these Nazis will stop doing what they are doing and disappear?

Hans, Ruth’s childhood friend, looked at her apprehensively as she continued. As I was saying, we have no choice. Yesterday I met with a wonderful man from British mandate Palestine. His name is Meir Shalev. He’s a member of a self-defense group called the Haganah, and he is here on a mission to save Jews from a terrible disaster that awaits us here if we do not leave. She sighed at the assemblage before her.

You must listen to me, all of you. We’ve known each other for many years. We know each others’ families. Our parents don’t want to understand what is going on in Germany. It’s the land of their ancestors, they claim. I respect this. But we are of the new generation, and we must persuade them to leave with us. The hour is getting late. I want to know who will go to British mandate Palestine with me. She looked at the youths around her with defiance, as if challenging them.

I’ve made up my mind, she continued. I am going, with or without my parents. They wouldn’t listen to me. My father’s practice is too important to him, he says, and our house cannot be abandoned. She stood up, her face flushed with excitement.

I told him that the house can be abandoned for the sake of saving our lives. We can start a new life in Palestine. We’ll get help from the Haganah. They’re here to help us. We must do it, all of us. Please listen to me …

A knock on the door interrupted her, and a tall, dark-haired man wearing khaki pants and a white shirt entered the room, nodding to the assembled youths.

This is Meir Shalev, Ruthy introduced him. He is the man from Palestine. I invited him to speak to us.

Shalom, Meir said, flashing his white teeth as he smiled, his face and hands were tan from the desert sun. He had the appearance of a farmer and the charm of a man who had grown up with confidence and was certain of his course of action.

Meir stood next to Ruthy, facing her young friends. "As Ruthy told you, I’m the man from Palestine. In fact, I like that name. It sounds like Man of La Mancha." They all laughed.

But unlike Don Quixote, who was fighting imaginary evil, we are dealing here with real windmills, real evil, even if there may be a parallel. I must tell you, my friends, that the hour is getting late. He surveyed the young group in front of him. All eyes were curiously watching him, awaiting more of this wonderful talk.

Our people, the men and women on a mission to save lives here in Germany, are encountering difficulties with the German authorities. He looked at the group with serious eyes.

We have a plan to try to get as many Jews as possible out of the Frankfurt region. A ship will leave Hamburg in a week. I know Ruthy is planning to be aboard it, along with other youths from other parts of Germany. He nodded at Ruthy.

It may be your only chance to get out. You must make up your minds and convince your families. And if they don’t want to leave, save yourselves. We have hard information that Hitler and the Nazis are about to seize power, he warned them.

He wiped his forehead with his large hands. He glanced at Ruthy, who stood next to him, watching the group.

We must vote now, she told the group. I have the list of names on my pad. She called the first name. Lisa Traub.

Yes.

Hans Lieberman.

No.

Trudy Lenz.

Yes.

Ruthy raised her voice. Please … I need all of you. We must go together to Hamburg, all of our group.

She continued to tally who would be joining her. Finally, she looked up at Meir, and he smiled at her. His black eyes met her shining green eyes. Aside from Hans, all those who’d attended signed up to leave with Ruthy.

CHAPTER 4

You’re not serious, are you, Ruthy? Jacob sat in his large armchair smoking a cigar, the smoke curling up toward the ceiling. He pointed the cigar at his daughter, his voice rising in anger. What has gotten into you, Ruthy? You cannot leave your family behind. You need protection. You need your family near you. Why are you doing this to us?

Her mother wiped the tears from her red-rimmed eyes. Her fifteen-year-old brother, Alfred, sat near his father in silence. But she knew that he wanted to leave with her. He was part of her group and had accompanied her to their grandfather’s farm on many occasions, where the group had met in the seclusion of the barn.

Ruthy, Alfred, and their group of friends had the freedom of the farm’s vast forested lands to ride their horses and to conduct agricultural experiments. They planted wheat and barley and raised chicken on the farm. But all that had been before the Nazis had begun to hunt down and haunt the Jews.

She turned her loving eyes on her brother and smiled at him. Alfred was an athlete and good-looking, but he had no willpower. He was, as she kept calling him, a mama’s boy, and he would not dare defy his father.

Ruthy, are you listening to what I just asked you? Jacob asked. He pointed his finger at her as his face flushed with anger.

Yes, Papa, I heard you, but my mind is made up. I’m going—with or without you. You don’t understand the danger that you are in. It’s getting late. We all must leave on the ship sailing from Hamburg in three days. I can arrange passports and tickets for all of us. I met a wonderful man. He is a Haganah representative from Palestine, and he’s named Meir. He has many connections here.

Her father watched her sternly as she pleaded with her family.

Time is running short for Meir, too. The authorities have gotten wind of his activities. She looked at Hilde. Please, Muttie, you too … and Alfred. Please, let us all leave. I know it’s not going to be easy for us, but at least let us try before it’s too late. She gave her father a loving look and then nodded to Alfred.

Papa, you have a brother in Switzerland. Why don’t you contact him? Alfred chimed in. If not to Palestine, perhaps we can all go to Switzerland, and from there, one day we can continue to the land of our ancestors. Please, Papa."

Ruthy sat erect in her chair as her mother twisted a towel in her hands and her father smoked his cigar in silence.

There was a chill in the air. Ruthy gazed out the window in the living room. It was early fall, and the leaves had begun to turn red and yellow. Before long, the trees would be bare.

Ruthy was thinking of Meir and his whereabouts. She had not seen him for four days, but he had promised her that before sailing time, he would meet her at the dock in Hamburg,

We’re not leaving Germany, Jacob finally said in an authoritative tone. We cannot just pick up and go. It’s too complicated. What about our house … Grandpa’s farm … my practice? How can we even move all our household goods in three days? It is impossible, Ruthy. You must understand this. You are still a minor. I beg you not to make a foolish move. Don’t go. In reality, I can order you not to go, but that’s against all my beliefs. I won’t do that. I am simply asking you to stay. If you leave, you will break your mother’s heart and mine.

Ruthy looked straight into Jacob’s eyes without flinching.

I am sorry, Papa. I made up my mind. I’m going. I want you to know that I love all of you so very much. You’re all I have, really. But my will to live is much stronger than all of your materialistic wealth. She looked at her father with loving eyes.

It’s only a feeling I have inside me, but I’ve had it ever since that fateful, horrible day when Wolfgang came with his mob and tore down my beloved grapevine, crushing its beautiful grapes on the cobblestones. They tried to hurt Alfred and almost killed you with that stone. She saw tears welling in her father’s eyes.

Right then and there, I made up my mind that I don’t want to stay in this country any longer. They don’t want us here, Papa, don’t you understand? It’s true that they tolerated us for many generations. She shot a glance at Alfred, who looked down to avoid making eye contact with her.

She turned to her father again, pointing a finger at him, her voice rising as she said, Don’t you know the story of our ancestors who fled the Inquisition in Spain? Don’t you remember the stories you told me about what the crusaders did to our people right here, in Germany? We’re almost at the twelfth hour.

She turned to her mother and hugged her. I’m sorry, Muttie. Maybe you can persuade Papa to leave. They both cried.

I talked to your father, her mother said amid her sobs, but to no avail. He’s made up his mind. I cannot leave him and Alfred behind, Ruthy. They are my family. But I do understand you. I love you so much. It’s funny, but I just thought of something silly. What’s going to happen to your piano and your music lessons? Who’s going to play beautiful music for us now? Oh, Ruthy, what has happened to us? What’s going to happen to us?

She cried incessantly, and Ruthy stroked her hair. Studying each member of her family, she began to cry as well.

CHAPTER 5

Meir was pacing along the dock at the port of Hamburg. The big ship towered over him like a giant. People were hurrying on and around the liner. Passengers were arriving; sailors in white uniforms were saying good-bye. Seagulls rose screaming from the water and circled the ship in search of prey.

Meir peered at his watch, casting a worried eye toward the dock. Ruthy was late for their rendezvous. He looked over his shoulder at the German officials sitting at a table near the foot of the gangplank. They were checking passports carefully. One official was talking to four youths wearing brown shirts with swastika armbands.

Finally, he saw Ruthy. She was walking fast and carrying a single small suitcase. She moved toward him, her hair stirring in the light sea breeze. When she came close, she dropped the suitcase and ran to him, falling into his waiting arms.

When she lifted her head to him, tears clouded her eyes. It felt so wonderful to be in his arms. She didn’t know if it was the beginning of love or merely relief at finally arriving dockside after the terrible ordeal of leaving her family behind and heading into an uncertain future.

Oh, Meir, I am so glad you waited for me. I’m sorry that I’m late. It was so difficult to leave the house. My mother couldn’t take it any longer, and in the end, she broke down. My father was crying, something I had never seen before, and my brother, Alfred, looked so forlorn, not knowing whether to cry, to join me, or just to stand there helplessly. She paused as she collected her breath, staring at the passenger ship.

It was so hard. It was like somebody was ripping a part of me out of myself, like that day the mob ripped the old grapevine off the wall of our house. Oh, Meir, I have a terrible feeling that I’m never going to see my family again.

Don’t worry, Ruthy. Your family will follow you, Meir said, trying to calm her down. He held her to him, patting her hair. He liked Ruthy. He felt that he was falling in love with her. She was hugging him so close to her, and he felt her young breasts against his chest.

Ruthy put her head on his shoulder and stayed there for a few moments, silently savoring this wonderful feeling of shelter, of a strong man who suddenly took the place of her father.

Did any of my friends arrive yet? Ruthy asked.

Yes, a few are already aboard. It was good planning for you not to travel in a group. The authorities would certainly have suspected that something was afoot.

He again looked worriedly toward the gangplank where the German officials sat. Come, Ruthy, I want to see you aboard ship. I’m waiting for two more boys to arrive from the Munich area. And, of course, we’re waiting for the rest of your friends.

She straightened her dress and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She gazed at Meir, and a warm feeling of belonging swept her heart. She felt as though she had known him for a long time—he gave her security and a sense of warmth and trust. She also liked the strength of his body when he held her to him. He was so different from the other boys she had known, all of them fair-skinned and inexperienced.

Meir was a veteran of the struggles in Palestine, a young man with so much experience. She remembered now the stories he had told her about Palestine, about his pioneer parents who had migrated there at the turn of the century from Russia. They were young and inexperienced, fighting off malaria contracted while working in the swamps, and drying those swamps to create fertile fields of wheat and barley. They also fought marauding Arab gangs that attacked Jewish settlements. Meir’s father was a member of Hashomer, the Jewish guardsmen riding on horseback and defending the settlers of Galilee.

He also had told her of his years growing up in a village in Galilee, how he had joined the Haganah and trained in the desert and mountains until he had been ordered to Germany to try to rescue Jews who were willing to leave. Meir was different … and intriguing.

He had an overwhelming love for classical music. When she’d told him that she played the piano, he had asked if he could visit her home and listen to her play.

Suddenly, she remembered a Friday evening at her home when she was playing the piano. She saw Meir’s eyes follow her every movement as she caressed the piano keys and that wonderful Beethoven music filled the room. Her mother’s face glowed with happiness as she listened to her daughter’s magical fingers do their work.

But there was no time now. There seldom was. She’d imagined that Meir was so busy with his rescue work that she would hardly ever see him after that Friday night gathering.

But now they were together, even if only for a few precious moments, which were all that could be spared. Their meeting gave her all she wanted for now: a sense of security and closeness to Meir. She had flirted with some of the boys at school, and there was a forbidden kiss now and then. But now she was practically a grown-up woman with her dreams of her own.

I guess it’s time to go. Why don’t you come aboard too, Meir, once the rest of the group has arrived? You’ve done your work here; isn’t it time you returned home? Haven’t you done enough?

No, I have to stay, Ruthy, he said. I haven’t finished my work here. There is still much to be done. We have to try to rescue as many of our people as we can. If we can save even one more, it’s a mitzvah. To save a soul is a mitzvah, a good deed.

She smiled at him. I understand. You must stay. Take care of yourself. It’s becoming a dangerous game, smuggling our people out. I am going to miss you.

He held her to him, loving the feeling of her body so close to his. I’ll miss you too, Ruthy. Do you feel what I feel? I’m falling in love with you. It is so tremendous inside me, like an erupting volcano, like good wine, like a crescendo of music. Here we are, on a lonely dock in Hamburg, Germany, amidst all the danger and haste.

She blushed, and for the first time since leaving home, she felt she had a new family: her friends aboard the ship and this wonderful man who was telling her that he was falling in love with her … that he cared for her.

Ruthy saw a family of four boarding the ship: mother, father, brother, and sister. Brother and sister were laughing with the two Nazi youths standing at the gangplank.

Suddenly, Ruthy remembered her mother’s last words before she left: Ruthy, I’ll try to persuade Papa to send Alfred to you. We’re too old to leave, but maybe we can save Alfred. I know you will take care of him. Please write to us. Don’t forget us, Ruthy. I love you so much. Her mother had collapsed in her arms, crying.

They’re here, Ruthy, Meir said, awakening her from her daydream.

She looked back and saw Lisa and Hans walking toward the gangplank. He came after all, she thought. At least I was able to save one more soul.

She hugged Meir one more time and picked up her luggage. Then she turned and saw Hans and Lisa walk toward the ship, where the officials carefully examined their passports before they boarded.

When she finally approached the ship, one of the officials, a heavyset middle-aged man, gave her a hard look. His eyes were gray like a pair of steel shutters. He took his time checking her papers, and then he pointed toward the gangplank. When she turned, Meir was gone. The two Nazi youths watched her as she went up the gangplank, not looking back.

CHAPTER 6

The thick fog was slowly lifting in the Bay of Alexandria, Egypt, as the ship moved slowly toward the dock, two tugs pushing her on each side. Ruthy stood by the rail, watching the city of Alexandria awaken as the hot sun rose over the vast desert that stretched interminably behind it.

Ruthy’s group was about to start the last leg of the journey. During the long voyage, Hans had been doing his best to keep his mood light. Lisa spent most of the voyage quiet and withdrawn.

In Alexandria, the group was to board a Turkish fishing trawler heading for the Palestine coast and the port of Jaffa. She hoped the vessel would be there when they arrived. She was also hoping that several Haganah people would meet them in Alexandria and guide them to the Turkish fishing vessel, as Meir had promised her at the dock in Hamburg.

Now, as the ship docked, Ruthy saw throngs moving about the dusty streets, and she heard shouting as a multitude of vendors pushed the officials, jockeying for good places from which to sell their wares to the arriving passengers.

Ruthy addressed the group. She was responsible for their safe arrival in Palestine since she had been the one who finally persuaded them to leave Germany. They were now assembled before her—Hans, Lisa, Trudy, Gabriel, and the others—awaiting her directions.

Let’s try to stick together, she said. We are arriving in the Middle East, and all of us are inexperienced in its ways. I’m sure these vendors would try to rob us of our last penny if they could. She warily perused the busy docks and the merchants. The officials wearing those funny fez hats don’t look too honest to me either. Let’s be careful.

She looked toward the waterfront and then turned to address her friends again. Remember, we are tourists. That’s what we’re going to tell the officials at the dock. Any questions before we debark the ship? Ruthy asked.

Hans was staring curiously at the Egyptian officials wearing the fez hats. I wonder why they’re wearing those funny hats, he said.

To protect their heads from the harsh sun, Lisa chimed in.

Everybody laughed, and Ruthy began to feel more at ease. Just keep a watchful eye when we reach the street of Alexandria, she told her friends.

They began to make their way down the gangplank, toward the waiting officials. Their passports were all in order, but Ruthy felt a surge of nervousness go through her because one of the officials they were heading toward was heavily eying her. His fat face and bulging eyes were savoring her lithe body, which was clad in khaki pants and a khaki blouse.

Where are you heading, young lady? he asked her in broken English. Although she had understood English since taking a high school course in it, she pretended total ignorance.

Is anything wrong here?

A young Egyptian officer, smartly dressed in a khaki uniform with a few ribbons over his shirt pocket and wearing a military cap, was speaking to the fat customs official.

The man shook his head and answered him in Arabic. No, only routine. I asked this young lady where she was going.

Are you a tourist, madam? the officer asked Ruthy. He too was savoring her body as he addressed her.

Ruthy answered the officer in broken English. Yes, I am tourist.

The group in line watched with intense curiosity, awaiting their turn. Lisa was fidgeting with her sleeve, while Hans stood calmly, watching the scene.

The two Egyptian officials haggled back and forth in Arabic. Finally, the officer spoke to Ruthy in German.

Be careful, young lady. This is not a good place for a young woman to be by herself. May I offer to escort you to the city?

Ruthy looked at him in amazement and then back at her group, still awaiting their turn to be questioned by the Egyptian customs officials.

I really want to thank you, Officer, for your kind offer, but I believe we’ll survive. My friends and I are here to tour the city, and we’re to meet our tour guide outside the port gates. Thank you again for your hospitality.

You are very welcome, madam. My name is Hassan Nasser. If you have any trouble at all, please contact me at the far end of this dock. I am the official in charge here. Have a good day.