50
Palestine 1947
Jake and I and four tank men plus four armed escorts piled into two waiting Land Rovers. The drive north should take about six hours. The drop was scheduled for two a.m., and we ought to make the airfield by midnight at the latest. Nine of us on the mission. I drove the lead vehicle while Irit’s younger brother, Danny, piloted the second. I’d studied the map carefully, so I knew the route well. The tank jockeys piled in and promptly fell asleep in the back, men about my age and war veterans. Never seen any of them before. Dressed in generic khakis without any insignia visible and clearly used to sleeping on the go. I guessed driving a tank wasn’t like driving a lorry and you needed your beauty rest to stay alert. We carried enough petrol with us for the tanks to travel
