In the long line of willing warriors, a young, unshaven man wearing a red-and-white checked kaffiyeh used the waiting time to clean his carbine. Aaron Mehulem had no trouble making conversation with the others in line. His Arabic was better than his Hebrew. He had grown up in a suburb of Baghdad, the son of Jewish parents, and his family later emigrated to Palestine. He ignored Fritz, and Fritz did the same, as if both were invisible. But Aaron had an important mission. He wasn’t only the Jewish spy in this training camp—he was also the liaison between Fritz and the Haganah.
Hmmm
