33
Palestine 1947
The lorries rumbled down the coastal road navigating by running lights only, moving in tight formation on a starless night cloaked in dense cloud cover. Spooky. Jake’s head hit his chest and I hoped he wouldn’t start snoring. Irit watched the road intensely. I’d taken one of the Brens and a few sticks of ammo and loaded it up. Just in case. Made sense to use what you had if the need arose. I prayed it didn’t.
I lit a fag and handed it over to Irit who took it gratefully.
“Why is it”, she asked, “that I believe your father is used to working late at night?”
“It’s how he makes his living.”
“And how is that?”
“Bootlegging mostly. Running illegal liquor and tobacco or anything worth stealing, then selling it on. He’s been known to h****k a few lorries here and there, r
