Gaza was only seventy kilometres away, but many Jewish settlements populated areas around Jaffa. Most dangerous was Naiter. It was a few kilometres east of Jaffa, and by virtue of its strategic position close to the main road, it posed grave threat to the traffic coming to and leaving the city. It had demonstrated its capacity to inflict causalities a number of times before, when it attacked reinforcements coming to Jaffa's rescue. The escort commanders had to be aware of the danger since British army units had had to intervene to stop such attacks in the past.
When the convoy approached Naiter, it slowed down, and then it suddenly stopped when the lead armoured vehicle came within close proximity of the settlement. Khalil became nervous and asked everyone to be quiet. Ibrahim said it was just a precaution. Sharif thought the vehicle commander was probably negotiating safe passage with the settlers. Dunya and Mona, who up to that point had been having a serious conversation about the future and what life might be like in Egypt, stopped talking and paid attention.
"Will they let us pass?" Mona asked.
"They may not like the sight of so many cars leaving the city. They don't know who's in them, and they may be tempted to..." Khalil said.
"What, shoot? No! But the British are with us."
"That didn't stop them before," argued Sharif.
Mona and Dunya, who had been reclining on the mattresses Khalil had provided, sat up straight now. They held hands and started praying, fearing the worst. Mousa and Omar, sensing danger, walked on their knees to their mothers' sides and clung to them.
After a considerable delay, the convoy began to move again.
"They must've got the go-ahead," said Khalil.
"They must," Ibrahim concurred.
A kilometre or so past Naiter, the lead armoured vehicle left the road, and from his perch atop his vehicle, the captain motioned to the drivers behind him to keep moving.
"We're in the clear. We can all relax a littlenow," said Khalil, restarting his van. "I don't know where everybody else isgoing, but in an hour or so we should be in Gaza."
YOU ARE READING
FLEEING JAFFA
Historical FictionIn late April 1948, the ancient port of Jaffa, Palestine, was under attack and was about to fall to Jewish forces. Sharif, a veteran police officer and his family-his wife Mona, a paediatric nurse, and his ten-year-old son, Omar-were desperately try...
