kibbutz had made him a gift of the weapon. But we are convinced that he stole it. The Mauser was the talk of the company until Nachshe turned up with the Luger. Everyone agrees that the Luger looks much better.

That was the start of the pistol competition. For a member of the company to walk around without a pistol was soon seen as almost dishonorable. The battalion commander had no pistol. Nor had his deputy. But most of our company got themselves a pistol in time. One of the first was Tarzan’s rusty weapon, rumored to have been first used by Methuselah. And the last was Nehemia the driver’s gleaming Webley, which Sancho inherited from him when he was wounded. It doesn’t matter how good the weapon is or where it comes from. As long as the bullets come out of the right end and it makes a hell of a noise, the honor of the bearer is assured.

There are also some unfortunates who have to make do as pistol-less proletarians. Some of these have resigned themselves to their fate and behave as though the whole thing has nothing to do with them. But in the case of Zuzik the matter assumed tragic proportions. He dreamed of his own handgun twenty-four hours a day. Whenever he saw an abandoned house that hadn’t yet been ransacked, or a body whose pockets hadn’t yet been emptied, the spark of hope would ignite in his breast. But it seems the Arabs had decided to annoy Zuzik. They literally swallowed their weapons before they died. Even when they had to abandon their houses in a hurry, they took the lit-tie toys with them. It was only a week ago that Zuzik finally got his pistol. Kebab says he bought it. For twenty lira that he got from his father.

Now Zuzik gets the little pistol out of his trouser pocket. "Only fools lug cannons around with them," he bravely claims, without being able to hide his jealousy. " I prefer a small, handy weapon." He has a little PB, caliber 7.65 millimeter. An old model that was already in use in the First World War.

"Sour grapes," says Nachshe scornfully.

Zuzik is deeply offended. "It does the job. With it I can bump off whoever I want."

"With that?" Kebab laughs loudly. "With that thing you couldn’t knock out a fly’s tooth." Kebab has a special laugh. His whole face puckers up and all you can see is the small, green eyes.

325