26
Palestine 1947
The next morning, I found Irit at breakfast, head down, cradling a mug of coffee, hair masking her face.
“Sleep well?” I sat down on the bench beside her, a stupid grin on my face.
She lifted her head up partially. “Not very amusing, Lieutenant. I shall remember not to drink schnapps in future, especially when I haven’t eaten.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“You don’t have to look so pleased.”
“Do I? Look pleased?”
“My eyes can still focus. So yes, I’d say so. You look like you are enjoying yourself.”
“It’s the company, Major. Strictly the company.”
I glanced at the enlisted personnel’s table. Some of the women recruits had been watching and giggling among themselves. And yes, even in Palestine, ranks remained segregated, people’s army or not.
The mess served buff
