THE LAST EXODUS
A rifle shot has just rung out! Its effect is electrify-
ing. Half the mob of refugees surges toward Zion
Gate, trampling those in front. The other half, in a
wild stampede, tries to run the other way, back to
the ghetto whose safety they had just left. . . .
Officers are rushing among their men, shouting
orders. They block the mob from fleeing back to the
ghetto. . . . God, am I going to witness a massacre?
VICTORS and vultures hovered around the periphery of the Jewish Old City, now being battered mercilessly by the Arab Legion. Abdullah el Tel had promised a merciful surrender, but he was savage in bringing it about. There was no way to "peace" except through war because the Jews refused to surrender. The Legion guns were firing point-blank at targets from fifty to two hundred yards away. I got as close as I dared. As each building was battered, and the defenders pushed back, sappers would advance and blow the works. House by house the Jews were being pushed into the heart of their ghetto. This had been going on day and night and was now in its tenth day.
There certainly were enough Arabs--hundreds of Arab Legion soldiers milling around in British khaki and khaffiyas. They were uniformly young and looked like a genuine fighting