The Pure

smoothly that you have something to worry about. Arak?’
    Adam nodded. He hated the stuff, but always accepted it when his father offered. Haim handed him a cigarette and they sat in the shade of a lemon tree, watching the sun go down over the distant Mediterranean, smoking and sipping on the aniseed liquor.
    ‘It bothers me,’ Adam replied. ‘That was the first time I lost a comrade.’
    ‘Lost a comrade? But I thought you all escaped?’
    ‘That’s what I told Mother.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘We waited in the water for ninety minutes. Then a dinghy came to pick us up. Just as it arrived, the limpet-mines went off and the weapons boat exploded. The Libyans started firing indiscriminately in all directions, and Avi was caught by a stray bullet. It went in behind his ear, came out of his forehead. His face opened like a fruit.’
    ‘Did you know him well?’
    ‘We were minutes away from safety. Minutes. We weren’t killing anybody. We were just blowing up illegal weapons.’
    Adam sipped his Arak, smoked his cigarette, and gazed into the branches of the lemon tree. An expression of concern clouded his father’s face. He took his son’s hand for a moment then, awkwardly, released it.
    ‘It reminds me of my first commando operation,’ he said. Adam came out of his reverie immediately. His father rarely talked about his own combat experience.
    ‘When was that?’ said Adam.
    ‘1973, during the Yom Kippur War. I had just been assigned to Arik’s unit.’
    ‘You mean Sharon? Ariel Sharon?’
    ‘Who else?’
    ‘You served under Arik? And you never told me?’
    ‘There is a time and a place to talk about such things. I think now is the time. And here, beneath this lemon tree, is the place.’
    ‘You should have told me earlier.’
    ‘I’m telling you now.’
    ‘What was Arik like?’
    ‘Different to how you might imagine. A very learned person. He studied for many years at Hebrew University. And his courage – I’d never before seen such courage in a man. And never since.’
    Adam shifted uncomfortably in his chair, suddenly doubting the extent of his own bravery. ‘Were you part of the operation that split the Egyptian forces?’
    ‘I was. By that point in the war, Israel was at breaking-point. We had been caught completely unawares on the holiest day in the Jewish calendar. Many of us had been fasting when war broke out, and within hours we were fighting for our lives, and the lives of our families. Arik was called out of retirement. He begged to be allowed to charge the Egyptian forces, guns blazing. David against Goliath.’
    ‘He was refused?’
    ‘The commanders had a better use for him, something more covert. Only a man of his courage could have pulled it off. I was privileged to join him. Under cover of darkness, we left our own army behind and crossed the Suez Canal with bridging equipment. Then we mounted a surprise attack through the Tasa corridor, pierced the Egyptian frontline at the weak point between two of their armies, and came around behind them. The fighting – I’d never known such fighting. The casualties were great. When the route was cleared, Bren Adan’s division followed us over the bridgehead and encircled the whole of Suez, trapping the entire Egyptian Third Army. Then we pressed deep into Egypt. By the end of the war, our forces were only a hundred kilometres from Cairo.’
    ‘And in the north, Israeli paratroopers were only sixty kilometres from Damascus.’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘You were part of a legend. I never knew,’ said Adam.
    ‘If it hadn’t been for Arik, Israel would have fallen,’ Haim continued, as if he hadn’t heard. ‘There would have been a genocide. Another genocide.’ He drained his glass and leaned towards his son. ‘I still have nightmares about that war, even today. The bodies, the flames, the screaming faces. But to me, that is part of my sacrifice. The moment the guns fall silent is only the beginning of the battle.’
    ‘But it was all so much simpler in your day. Our unit lost a comrade, father. For what? This was an operation to blow up a ship, not a war like yours. We weren’t defending our homes, our families.’
    Haim looked his son in the eye. ‘Yes, you were, Adam,’ he said. ‘Yes, you were.’
    They fell silent for a while. The breeze cooled as night approached, and insects could be heard buzzing around them.
    ‘You need to understand something,’ said Haim at last. ‘We Jews have a right to be here, a