Where the Desert Meets the Sea

by Werner Sonne

Higgins grabbed the slim folder and ran in to plant himself before the general. He clicked his heels. “Well?” “Rather lively night, sir.” The general eyed him impatiently. “Details?” Higgins flipped open the folder. “Yesterday, some Arabs, coming from Jaffa Gate, made their way across the Jewish commercial center on the other side of the Old City. Rather disorderly, if you ask me.” McMillan lit a cigarette. “Continue.” “Well, first the Arabs began looting, and then they started fires. There were said to have been British police in the area when it happened.” He cleared his throat. “Some of them were said to have helped tear the bars off shops.” The general’s expression didn’t change. “Rather large fires, heavy smoke, lots of injured. The Haganah boys then fired over the Arabs’ heads. They’re getting more and more brazen that way, practically showing off.” “Then what?” The sergeant glanced at the densely written pages before him. “Then the Jews struck back. Apparently, it was that lot from the Irgun. In any case, they forced their way into an Arab cinema, the Rex, and set it on fire. It’s completely burned down. In addition, there were grenades thrown at cafés, a synagogue set on fire in retaliation, pedestrians stabbed. Some people have even abandoned their apartments, having now found themselves on the wrong side of the partition.” McMillan stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. “And the rest of the country?” The sergeant flipped through his documents. “The same picture...