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another pogrom against the Jews that was not answered in kind. It was the only way.
He squinted against the glare of the sun, breaking with some difficulty through the gauze of his headdress.
The air was dry dusty and stale. There was no doubt about the single jeep droning along the road from
Abid to Tel-Aviv. It was British. He gestured down to his friend David. David, too, was masked. David,
too, had a Lee Enfield rifle. He handed up the field-glasses to Karl. Karl took them, adjusted them, saw
that there were two soldiers in the jeep -a sergeant and a corporal. They would do.
Further along the road, in the shade of a clump of stunted palms, waited the rest of the section. Karl
signaled to them. He swept the surrounding hills with his glasses to check that there was no one about.
Even a goatherd could prove an embarrassment, particularly if he were an Arab. The parched hills were
deserted.
You could hear the jeep quite clearly now, its engine whining as it changed gear and took an incline.
Karl unclipped a grenade from his belt.
The others left the shade of the palms and got into the ditch behind the bank, lying flat, their rifles ready.
Karl looked at David. The boy's dark eyes were troubled. Karl signaled for David to join him. He pulled
the pin from the grenade. David imitated him, unclipping a grenade, pulling out the pin, holding down the
safety.
Karl felt his legs begin to tremble. He felt ill. The heat was getting to him. The jeep was almost level. He
sprang up, steadied himself on the top of the bank, and threw the grenade in a gentle, graceful curve. It
was a beautiful throw. It went straight into the back seat of the jeep. The soldiers looked astonished.
They glanced back. They glanced at Karl. The jeep's pace didn't slacken. It blew up.
There was really no need for the second grenade which David threw and which landed in the road
behind the remains of the jeep.
The two soldiers had been thrown out of the wreckage. They were both alive, though broken and
bleeding. One of them was trying to draw his side-arm. Karl walked slowly towards him, his .303
cocked. With a casual movement of his foot he kicked the pistol from the sergeant's hand as the man
tried to get the hammer back. The sergeant's face was covered in blood. Out of the mess stared two blue
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eyes. The ruined lips moved, but there were no words. Nearby, the corporal sat up.
The rest of the group joined Karl.
"I'm glad you weren't killed," Karl said in his guttural English.
"Aaah!" said the corporal. "You dirty Arab bastards." He hugged his broken right arm.
"We are Jews," said David, ripping his mask down.
"I don't believe it," said the corporal.
"We are going to hang you," said Karl, pointing at the palms, visible beyond the bank.
David went to look at the jeep. The whole back section was buckled and one of the wheels was off.
Some piece of machinery still gasped under the bonnet. David reached into the jeep and turned the
engine off. There was a smell of leaking petrol. "It's not much use to us," said David.
"What do you bloody mean?' said the corporal in horror. "What the fuck do you bloody mean? "
"It's a message," said Karl, "from us to you."
- I've made up my mind, says Karl's friend as he busily massages Karl's buttocks. - I'm going to take
you with me when I go home. You'll like it. It isn't everyone I meet I'd do that for.
Karl makes no reply. He is feeling rather detached. He doesn't remember when he felt so relaxed.
What Would You Do? (14)
You are very attracted to a girl of about seventeen who is the daughter of one of your parent's friends.
The girl lives with her parents in the country. You take every opportunity to see her (you are not much
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older than her, yourself) but although you take her out to formal parties a couple of times and to the
cinema once, you can't be sure how she feels towards you. The more you see of her the more you want
to make love to her. But you realize she is quite young and you don't want to see yourself in the role of
the seducer. You would feel perfectly happy about it if she made the first move. But she is shy. She
plainly likes you. Probably she is waiting for you to make the first move. You are passing through the part
of the world where she and her parents live and you decide to visit the house and ask if you can stay the
night, as it's quite late. You rather hope that, at last, you will be able to find an opportunity to make love
to the girl.
You arrive at the house. The door is opened by the girl's mother, an attractive woman in her early
forties. She is very welcoming. You tell her your story and she says that of course you can stay, for as
long as you like. She regrets that you will not be able to see her husband because he is away for some
days on a business trip. Her daughter is out - "with one of her boyfriends." You feel disappointed.
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