It looks as if the nightmare of a civil war, which has cast its shadow over the youth for ten years, has disappeared. The Etzel is responsi-ble for the massacre of Deir Yassin.9 But the Etzel is not much worse than the others. There is an agreement. Its battalions will be incorpo-rated in the newly founded army.
* * *
In the morning we receive orders to leave our barracks for a camp where a battalion of the Etzel is stationed. They have recently been incorporated into the brigade. We don’t know what is going on. In the camp a radio car is standing, with two blond men next to it. One is the brigade commander, the other his adjutant. Fantastic rumors fill the air: a lot of Etzel men are deserting, leaving their positions on the front, great gaps are appearing in our lines.
About a kilometer before our forward positions we come across the end of a long marching column. We drive slowly behind them in our new jeeps, which we only got a week ago. Our automatic weapons are loaded and ready in our hands. The column is headed for the road to Tel Aviv. The marchers are unarmed. They are walk-ing in silence. No one says a word. From time to time they cast hate-ful glances at us.
At the crossroads we stop and take up a position. The column also stops. Its head has run up against another unit of ours.
We stay like that for several hours. They - unarmed, surrounded, full of hate. We - uncertain, not knowing what orders we will get. Fire? And if so - what will each individual do?
In the afternoon we withdraw. It has been agreed with the Etzel that they will return to camp. As prisoners. We breathe a sigh of relief.
* * *
We have had enough of discussions. They last the whole day, because we have nothing else to do. Sometimes we go on patrol around the Etzel camp. And we debate, debate, debate.
Some in the company, the veterans of the HISH from Tel Aviv, hate the Etzel people from the depths of their heart. For years they have fought a running battle with them. They kidnapped and were kidnapped, beat the others up and were beaten up, tortured and were tortured. They envy the Palmach people who were posted to Tel Aviv. Rumor has it that battles are fought out there on the beach, with real weapons.