Where the Desert Meets the Sea

by Werner Sonne

Uri Rabinovich. He was standing before her, alone. He clearly hadn’t shaved in days. His face looked tired, only his eyes lively. “I just wanted to tell you goodbye.” Judith stared in surprise. “Say goodbye? But you only just got here.” “We’re pulling out of the villages. We’re looking for volunteers,” he explained. “All of Jerusalem is at stake. The Arabs are systematically sealing off the city. If we don’t break their siege, they’ll starve out some hundred thousand Jews. Then the city will fall. And you know what that means: a Jewish state without Jerusalem—it’s unthinkable.” Judith rose from her rock and stood up. Only a few inches separated them. She could feel his physical presence, and she instinctively wanted to press up close to him, to hold him tight. “I need to go,” Uri said. Judith hesitated. “Are you looking for more volunteers?” she said finally. “Are you taking women too?” “We’re taking any volunteers who are truly prepared to use a weapon when it comes down to it. It will be tough, really tough. The roads into Jerusalem are now the main battle zone.” Judith understood. They were looking for fighters, not angels of peace. No one plagued by scruples. No one afraid of killing. No one, she realized, like her.