|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||
| IDF pioneers lived history | |
|
One in a series of articles on how prominent Jewish people spent Rosh Hashanah 50 years ago. From The CJN's Rosh Hashanah greetings supplement.
 he first Rosh Hashanah in the State of Israel was indeed a new beginning - not just of a new year, but of a new chapter in the life of our people. As we ushered in the year 5709, we marked so many firsts - for the state, for its government, for its army and for its people.
For my husband, Chaim Herzog, and me, that first year was interwoven with the ups and downs of our new state's military fortunes. I worked in the scientific warfare unit of the fledgling IDF, where my boss the renowned scientist Aharon Katzir, concentrated on developing fighting tools from primitive supplies. Pharmacies across Jerusalem were called upon to provide the raw materials for what would become Molotov cocktails, a staple in our arsenal during the war.
Chaim would soon be appointed the first head of military intelligence. His challenge would be the development of a professional intelligence capacity to aid the army in its battle efforts. The War of Independence raged, with two truces - between June 11 and July 9, and between July 18 and Oct. 15. Our personal lives as newlyweds were subsumed in the historical drama unfolding before our eyes, in which we participated. To quote from the title of Chaim's biography, we were, indeed, "living history."
Several recollections stand out for me as I think back to those tumultuous days.
On May 14, 1948 itself, as the state was declared by Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion, I was at the office of the scientific warfare unit. Having just recovered from injuries and shock suffered in the bombing of the Jewish Agency a few months earlier, I was worried about my husband in the front line. We turned on the radio and listened with bated breath. Nobody knew what the name of the state would be, and we were thrilled that its name was Israel. There we were in embattled Jerusalem, with the Arab armies' siege closing in around us. Nevertheless, we were elated. Our excitement and joy were indescribable.
During the first truce, Chaim came to take me out of Jerusalem. At the time, the city was besieged, with hardly any food or water. In his uniform, Chaim hid a precious supply of cigarettes for his father, Chief Rabbi Isaac Herzog. Later, my father-in-law would make them last by cutting them into little butts, which he smoked.
We left Jerusalem via the new Burma Road, which Chaim had helped create in the hills leading to Jerusalem, as an alternative, safe route. Along the way, we encountered men unloading stacks of supplies, and literally
| carrying them into Jerusalem on their backs because the road had not yet been linked.
We returned to Jerusalem during the second truce, and celebrated Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot there. Jerusalem and Tel Aviv were worlds apart. The first, most striking difference was the freedom with which water was consumed in Tel Aviv. In Jerusalem, the besieged city, water, the most precious commodity, was rationed accordingly. Our daily ration was one meager cup of water per individual. Food was in short supply, and during the siege, people literally cooked weeds for meals. But there was no panic. Jerusalemites were stoic and determined.
They took London during the blitz of a few years earlier as their example and inspiration. The agenda in Jerusalem was simply survival. In contrast, Tel Aviv throbbed with the pulse of the national effort. The government and army were headquartered there throughout the first year, and for the sake of national morale, Tel Aviv tried to function normally.
When I first came to Tel Aviv from besieged Jerusalem, the culture shock disturbed me. Sitting at a dinner party as if life was normal was jarring for someone who had just left the bleak, harsh reality of Jerusalem.
Another vivid recollection is the luncheon I held for my brother-in-law Abba Eban, then our newly appointed ambassador to the UN and Washington. Eban, who was on a brief visit to Israel, wanted to meet Yigal Allon, the army's brilliant senior commander in the Negev region, so as to get a first-hand briefing on the military situation. There was no food to be had. Chaim was at the central military base in Hulda, and it was there that I was able to obtain a live chicken for the meal. I had never even held one, and I wondered how I could arrange for it to be kosher-slaughtered, plucked and prepared for cooking. In all my many ensuing decades of entertaining, including 10 years in the presidency, this was the most difficult assignment.
An unforgettable memory is of my first encounter with a battlefield, just a few hours after the fighting stopped. In late October, Operation Hiram for the liberation of the Galilee, led by (Canadian) Ben Dunkelman and the Seventh Brigade, had just ended. Chaim was called back from his leave, and I spontaneously joined him. Not much of a romantic trip, with both of us in uniformÉThere, for the first time, I saw the horrors of battle, as we surveyed the charred remains of people and animals in the fields around Sasa.
Israel in that first year was at its best. This epic struggle was "to be or not to be." The dream of 2,000 years was at stake. To fulfil the promise, people were prepared to sacrifice everything and do anything.
Looking back, I realize how many of our worries and crises over the last 50 years pale in comparison to the challenge before us then. There was enormous spirit. Our wish to win and to prevail was extraordinary. We weren't going to be beaten.
|
 
|