The General's Son: Journey of an Israeli in Palestine Read Online Free PDF Page B

“iron” in Hebrew. Later, other officers changed their names to Peled as well.
    Fighting the British, who occupied Palestine at the time, and demanding Jewish independence was the premise under which the Palmach had been created. By the mid-1940s, my father had grown disillusioned with the Palmach. He thought they weren’t doing enough to fight off the British and if they were not going to fight, he saw no point in staying. So, true to his character, he did something that was considered unthinkable at the time: He quit the Palmach and went to school.
    In 1946, he and my mother, Zika Katznelson, were married. In the small Jewish community in Jerusalem, this marriage was no small thing. A daughter of the Katznelson family was marrying a man who came from a family of no consequence or position. “Several friends of my father tried to dissuade me, but I loved your father,” my mother told me during one of our conversations in her kitchen. I was an adult by then and in the process of gathering information for a future book.
    The family had managed to scrape together enough funds to allow my father to go to law school in London. Because they were still tight, however, he went alone, leaving immediately after they got married. His passport, issued by His Majesty’s Government, stated under “country”: Palestine. And under “citizenship”: Palestinian. Nine months later, my older brother, Yoav, was born, and my father returned. While he was home, in the fall of 1947, hostilities erupted—a war that would later be called Israel’s War of Independence had begun. My father stayed to fight and never returned to law school.
    He served as a captain in the Givati Brigade’s 51st regiment, and commanded the second infantry company, or Company B. The role of Company B became the stuff of legends.

My father’s passport issued in February 1947, nationality: Palestinian.
     
    In a journal he kept, my father describes rebuilding the company after it had suffered terrible losses in the war and its commander was removed. He writes about instilling both morale and discipline in his soldiers, who were a mishmash of new, inexperienced immigrants and hardened World War II veterans who volunteered to fight for the Jewish cause. I found what he wrote about soldiers wounded in battle particularly interesting:
     
A sergeant and a squad commander were wounded but continued to advance without complaining. I found their behavior responsible and intelligent. Another soldier that was wounded began screaming. I ran to him and yelled at him to shut up….There is nothing worse for morale than wounded soldiers screaming…. Surely a soldier going into battle knows he may be injured, so why scream?
     
    I remember finding this diary while I was going through his desk just a few days after he died. It was fascinating to read, but this particular passage intrigued me more than anything else. Did he really not understand why a wounded young man, scared for his life and in terrible pain, might scream? I suppose he expected everyone to possess the same levelheadedness and dedication that he demanded of himself. He did not see that this was an impossible thing to expect.
    His cool and direct reasoning became somewhat of a hallmark for people who knew him. In October 1948, the company took part in a crucial battle as part of Operation Yoav—which coincidentally shared my brother’s name—to claim the Negev region, in the southern part of the country. The company suffered many casualties, their communication was lost, and two officers died in battle. My father himself was seriously wounded twice during the battle. Once communication was restored, he was instructed to retreat but insisted they carry on—a third of the company was injured, and there was no one to carry the wounded. He maintained that they could hold on and complete their mission.
    Apparently General Yigal Allon, commander of the southern region, intervened at this point. The young