shooting in the direction of our positions without having a real tar-get. But the men, who are new at the front, duck each time. They think that each bullet is aimed directly at them.
During the night we are to move from our positions into "Position Hell," which is particularly near to the trapped Egyptians. Our job will be to help with digging trenches. The old saying "sweat saves blood" is the awful truth here. But the people have no experience. They have also never experienced heavy shelling. A shape looms on the horizon. We have reached the position. Three hundred yards away is the position of the trapped enemy, who are preparing a breakout attempt.
We discuss where the new position should be dug. The last attack by the Egyptians, which came to within thirty yards of our lines, showed that something needed changing. In the meantime we stay in the wadi on the rear slope and wait for orders. The men are tired, they lie down, and fall asleep immediately despite the biting cold. Shalom Cohen and I sit to one side. Someone joins us there.
"Who is that?" I ask. In the darkness the faces are hard to recognize.
"Me. Jack."
"What are you doing here?"
Jack, our company medic, tells us that he has joined us. "I just decided to come along. I’ll go back with you tomorrow. I have to be somewhere near HQ to deal with the transport for the wounded."
We have heard a lot about this fellow. A youth from western Europe, whose Hebrew (still) sounds strange. But he already looks like one of the veterans. "A lad with guts!" is what they say about him. During the attack on Huleiqat he ran around under fire and took care of the wounded, which was actually the task of the more junior medics. He received a commendation for this day.
"When did you last clean your Sten?" he asks me.
"About a week ago" I admit to my shame. I tend to neglect my Sten. I only take the weapon with me to avoid having to carry a rifle.
"Only a week ago? I haven’t cleaned mine for at least two weeks." And hugging his medic’s bag, he adds "This is my weapon." I look at the bag. It is marked and torn in places. "You know what, the first time I was in action I had a nice shiny new bag. And when I treated the first wounded man, I could hardly open it. The man almost bled