00:44 (Jerusalem Time)
Sunday, March 15, 1953 ‘C’
Command bridge of the USS TULAGI (LPDH 166)
Port of Haifa, Palestine
Captain (Navy) Thomas Barry nodded his head with satisfaction when he saw that all the ones he wanted to be present for his briefing were now assembled around the tactical map display of his landing ship. He smiled in particular to a small, fat man wearing informal civilian clothes.
‘’We just got the word from our fleet headquarters in Naples, Mister Shomron: the planes of our force’s air component will leave Bandar Abbas, in Iran, at dawn. Our planes arrived in Iran yesterday, after a long trip from Vietnam and around the southern tip of India. It is now time for us to do our part.’’
Barry then pointed a U.S. Air Force officer to the Jewish Agency representative.
‘’Major Barney Winslow will be counting on your familiarity with the air base at Ramat David to quickly put it back in operation.’’
Eli Shomron smiled and nodded his head, excited by this historic moment, only two days after the departure of the last British units from Palestine and the official proclamation of the new state of Israel.
‘’You will find that Ramat David is still in a very good state, Major Winslow. The British actually kept their word and left all of its installations and buildings intact. The base is presently being defended by our Haganah{8} combatants, who prevented any acts of sabotage by local Arabs.’’
‘’Just make sure that your people won’t take the Marines of Lieutenant Colonel Tucker for Arabs and won’t shoot at them.’’ Remarked Captain Barry.
‘’They won’t, Captain. Our combatants have received very strict orders to that effect.’’
‘’Excellent! What is happening with those three Soviet cargo ships filled with refugees and docked in this port? I would not want to see the unloading of these people get in the way of our own unloading.’’
Shomron lowered his head in sadness as he thought about all those Soviet Jews packed aboard the three ships that had arrived from Sevastopol two days ago. The arrival of these 4,300 unfortunate souls had been a very bad surprise for David Ben-Gurion and his Jewish Agency. Already facing the prospect of a merciless war with the neighboring Arab states, the Jews of Palestine only had very limited material resources at their disposal and the arrival of so many new refugees was straining badly the capacities of the Jewish Agency. Worst, more Soviet ships packed with so-called immigrants were due to arrive in Haifa in the coming days. It was however politically impossible to Ben-Gurion to refuse those Soviet ‘immigrants’.
‘’Our combatants will prevent those refugees from coming ashore until your flotilla is fully unloaded, Captain Barry. This situation cannot go on for too long, however: the conditions aboard those Soviet ships are poor and they will soon be out of food and water. My government is truly anxious to be able to relocate these people as soon as possible on firm ground.’’
‘’Our unloading should take two days at the most, Mister Shomron. Colonel Tucker, Major Winslow, start the unloading and get to Ramat David as quickly as you can.’’
That order triggered a hurricane of activity on and around the five ships of the American amphibious flotilla docked in the port of Haifa. Further off at sea, the carrier USS LAKE CHAMPLAIN soon launched the first helicopters of the Marine Air Group 26, or MAG-26, while army helicopters that had been transported on the amphibious ship USS EMPRESS AUGUSTA also started to take off from its deck, loaded with paratroopers from the 82nd Airborne Division. The side loading ramps of the USS TULAGI and USS EMPRESS AUGUSTA lowered to the quays and started letting out the tanks and armored amphibians of a reinforced battalion of Marines, along with army light tanks and artillery guns and an heteroclite fleet of air force ground support vehicles and equipment. Behind the USS TULAGI, the ammunition ship USS VESUVIUS and the tanker ship USS ASHTABULA, along with the general cargo transport USS LINCOLN, also started unloading their cargo on heavy trucks and rail flat cars waiting on the quays. One of the main reasons why the Ramat David airbase had been chosen for this deployment was its proximity to the port of Haifa and the fact that it was linked to it by one of the few rail lines that existed in Palestine, factors that would greatly facilitate its regular resupply in fuel and ammunition. Less than one hour after the start of the unloading, the first American ground convoy was leaving the quays for Ramat David.
03:22 (Jerusalem Time)
Main gate of Ramat David airbase
Galilee, Northern Palestine
Even while knowing that a column of American heavy vehicles was due to show up to reoccupy and reopen the ex-British airbase, Dan Mashad and his six fighters guarding the main gate nearly panicked when they heard the track noise and deep engine rumble of tanks approaching. Jumping on his field telephone, Dan turned frantically the handle of the telephone and nearly shouted in the receiver when someone picked up the call at the other end.
“We have tanks coming at us at the main gate! What do we do?”
“Calm down, Dan!” Replied the voice of his commander, Moshe Eshkol. “Mister Shomron is due in with a column of American troops and vehicles. Don’t shoot and just make sure that you identify Eli Shomron in the column before opening the gate.”
“But, what if these are Arab tanks approaching?”
“Then you die.” Answered curtly the battalion commander before cutting the call. Dan, not reassured much by his commander’s words, put down the telephone receiver and looked at his nervous fighters.
“Moshe says that these tanks must be American and that we are to hold our fire. Take position in your posts just in case, though.”
“The good that this will do to us.” Mumbled Masha Lewinski, a pretty brunette who also was one hard-headed young woman and an experienced fighter from the early days of the Haganah. Holding on to her STEN submachine gun, she returned to her sandbagged position with her partner, a young man barely out of his teens. Ze’v Abramovich gave her a quick nervous glance while taking the safety off his Lee Enfield .303 bolt-action rifle.
“If these are Arab tanks, how do we deal with them, Masha? We have no antitank weapons.”
“We try to plug any Arab sticking his head out of a hatch and hope for the best, Ze’v. You better put your safety back on: you make me nervous the way you keep your index on the trigger.”
“Uh, right!” Said the young man in a subdued voice before obeying Masha, who was a much more experienced fighter than he was. They wore a mix of tan or khaki short-sleeved shirts and shorts with no formal rank insignias, the just formed Israeli Defense Force being still in its infancy and being short of everything but courage and determination.
The first approaching vehicle soon emerged from the night’s darkness and turned out to be some kind of huge tracked armored vehicle with a boat-like bow and a small machine gun turret on top of it. An intimidating tank with a big gun was following it from up close, with more big shapes behind it. Dan Mashad shouted at his fighters as the first vehicle slowed down.
“HOLD YOUR FIRE UNLESS I SAY OTHERWISE! KEEP THE SAFETIES ON YOUR WEAPONS!”
None too reassured, Dan then got out of his sandbagged position and stood in the middle of the road, in front of the airbase’s lowered gate barrier. The tracked vehicle stopped five meters short of him, with the following vehicles also stopping. A man in civilian clothes then climbed out of the vehicle from a rear door and came to Dan at a calm pace, papers in one hand.
“Shalom! I’m Eli Shomron. These are the American troops and equipment that will take over this airbase from us. Here are my orders, signed by Ben-Gurion himself.”
Using his flashlight, Dan studied carefully the man’s papers and found them to be in order. He then gave back the papers to Shomron.
“Are American planes going to use this airbase, Mister Shomron?”
“There certainly will be: they should arrive sometimes today. In the meantime, you are to obey these American soldiers. That comes directly from Ben-Gurion.”
Dan nodded, then looked back and made a sign to the fighter manning the gate barrier as Shomron returned inside his vehicle.
“Raise the gate, Shimon!”
Dan stood by the side of the road and watched on, both awed and fascinated, as the American column rolled inside the base. He counted a total of sixteen of the boat-like armored vehicles, plus eighteen tanks, six huge towed field artillery guns and eight tracked self-propelled anti-aircraft guns, followed by nearly 200 various types of vehicles from big tanker trucks to airport aircraft tractors towing auxiliary power units and jet engine startup units. There were even two airport mobile staircase units and four truck-mounted radar units of varying size and design. Four of the tanks and four tracked carriers detached themselves from the column once inside the perimeter fence and fanned out, taking defensive positions on both sides of the gate. Over a hundred heavily armed soldiers then ran out of the tracked carriers and started at once to dig defensive trenches. One American, with a radio operator at his back, walked quickly to Dan, who eyed him carefully as he approached. The big American wore a steel helmet and what looked like a sort of bulky armored vest covered with cargo pockets. He was also armed with a compact type of assault rifle and a pistol.
“Do you speak English, mister?” Asked the American to Dan while still three paces away.
“Yes, I do.”
“Good!” Said the American, stopping one pace from Dan and offering his hand, which Dan shook. “I’m Captain John Cavanaugh, Baker Company of the Fourth Marine Amphibious Unit. My company will help you guard this side of the airbase.”
“And I’m Dan Mashad, squad leader from the Hanita Battalion. Welcome to Ramat David Airbase.”
“Thanks!” Said Cavanaugh, who then looked around at the lit buildings on the airbase. “This airbase seems to be still in good shape, isn’t it?”
“It is! The British built it in 1942 and handed it to us intact but empty two weeks ago as part of the turnover accord dictated by the United Nations partition plan. There are three long runways, along with half a dozen large hangars and a number of other buildings. We unfortunately don’t have at present any aircraft here. Most of the few aircraft we have are in Ekron Airbase, near Ashdod.”
“I see! This place will soon be alive with jet aircraft from Da Nang, though. Then, the Arab air forces around will have to stay away or suffer the consequences.”
“That will be most welcome indeed.” Replied Dan, meaning it, as a few of his fighters got out of their positions and approached him and Cavanaugh. “The Arabs have been bombing with impunity Haifa, Tel Aviv and other Jewish towns for the last two days, causing many casualties. The few prop-driven fighter aircraft we have can’t catch up with the jet aircraft the British sold to the Egyptians and Jordanians.”
Cavanaugh nodded at that while eyeing with interest Masha Lewinski, who stood firmly a few meters away with her submachine gun. He then spoke in a low voice to Dan.
“Do you have many female soldiers in your army, Mister Mashad?”
“Quite a few, out of necessity. We are fighting for our survival, Captain. Don’t worry about Masha’s abilities as a fighter: she has been fighting for over fifteen years now, since she was a teenager.”
“We ourselves have quite a few fighting women in our Air Force, but none yet in the Marine Corps, except as support personnel.”
“And how many jet fighter aircraft are coming?” Asked Dan, feeling elated.
“A whole squadron of the best fighters in the world, plus a few other jet aircraft squadrons.” Replied proudly Cavanaugh. “You will probably be interested to know that all of the fighter pilots that are coming are women.”
That attracted a big grin on the face of Masha Lewinski, a convinced feminist and a closet bisexual woman.
“Yes! I can’t wait to meet them, Captain.”
08:11 (Jerusalem Time)
British nuclear cruiser HMS TIGER
On patrol fifty kilometers off Tel Aviv
Mediterranean
‘’Commander, we are detecting a new radar signal coming from the North.’’
The operations officer of the nuclear cruiser HMS TIGER, Commander Edward Bisley, hurried to the electronic warfare station of the command center and studied for a moment the newly detected signal.
‘’I don’t recognize those parameters. What type of radar is this?’’
‘’Unknown type, Commander.’’ Answered the electronic warfare officer, or EWO, a young lieutenant. ‘’However, the signal is not fixed, which indicates some sort of airborne radar. It is also very powerful and sophisticated. In my opinion, this could mark the approach of that American air wing that we have been expecting since yesterday, sir.’’
‘’I believe that you are right, Lieutenant.’’ Said Bisley, remembering the message received yesterday from the British headquarters in India, signaling the transit of a large group of American aircraft round the southern tip of India. The New Delhi headquarters had also warned that the Americans had waved away in a very impolite manner the British fighter patrol sent to identify them. The American planes must have transited via Iran, which presently had rather tense relations with Great Britain, then via Turkey. The arrival of those planes was going to be a very bad piece of news for the Arab air forces attacking the Jewish holdings in Palestine. Bisley then looked at the air watch officer.
‘’Cummings, what do you have over Palestine at this moment?’’
‘’I have a substantial Egyptian air raid package on its way to Tel Aviv, sir, plus another formation in the process of taking off from Alexandria.’’
‘’Well, if those approaching Americans get here in time to intercept them, those Egyptians are going to get clobbered. Electronic Warfare Officer, do you have something else apart from that airborne radar coming from the North?’’
‘’I have a few rare radio conversations from the same direction, Commander, but they are all encrypted and I can’t break their code.’’
That made Bisley pause for a second. Great Britain bragged about possessing the most advanced technology in the World, especially in the military domain. The three last months had however shown that, at least in the aeronautical domain, the Americans had more than caught up to British technology. Now, this!
‘’Very well! Warn me the moment that you have something new.’’
‘’Yes sir!’’
Going to a small compartment adjacent to the command center of the cruiser that was used as a resting lounge, Bisley sat down with a sigh of relief and had the duty steward serve him a cup of tea. The hours spent standing in the command center could be long and tiring, even if nothing was happening. Ten minutes later, as he was about to return in the command center, a sailor went to him urgently.
‘’Sir, two aircraft are approaching from the North at an impossible speed.’’
Leaving his cup behind, Bisley hurried to the radar consoles to check by himself the air surveillance screen from behind its operator. His jaw dropped when he saw at what speed two dots were approaching Tel Aviv and the Egyptian planes that were about to bomb the city.
‘’Dear God! How fast are these planes, Lieutenant?’’
‘’They are now at 2,400 miles per hour and still accelerating, sir.’’ Said in a tense voice the young officer, making heads turn around him. going ‘’I just checked twice their speed. These two planes will definitely be able to intercept the Egyptians before the latter can drop their bombs. I know of only one plane possibly capable of such speeds, sir: the American F-83.’’
‘’Agreed!’’ Said Bisley, still shaken up, before looking at the EWO. ‘’Lieutenant Rose, what do you have now on your detectors?’’
‘’I still have the initial airborne radar from the North, plus two new radar signals. I however can’t manage to fix the position of those new signals, sir.’’
‘’If they are going at 2,400 miles per hour, then no wonder that you can’t get a fix on them.’’
Bisley then grabbed a telephone and called the bridge.
‘’Bridge? This is the operations officer: pass me the Captain at once.’’
There was a delay of a few seconds before the voice of the captain of the cruiser came on line.
‘’Captain Maitland here! What do you have for me, Mister Bisley?’’
‘’Captain, we just detected two probable American planes coming from the North and rushing towards Tel Aviv at a speed of 2,400 miles per hour. It seems that they intend to intercept an Egyptian air formation about to bomb the city.’’
‘’Did you say 2,400 miles per hour? But, our new LIGHTNING interceptor can’t do better than 1,300 miles per hour.’’
‘’Captain, those American planes probably are F-83 interceptors coming from Vietnam. The Egyptians are thus about to face the elite of the American fighters. Should we intervene, sir?’’
‘’No! Simply warn the Egyptians about those American planes and prepare a report to the Admiralty, with in particular the top speed attained by these F-83s. I am coming down to the command center.’’
‘’Understood, sir.’’
Bisley put down the telephone receiver, then grabbed a message pad to start writing a short message. He was soon interrupted by a shouted warning from his radar officer.
‘’SIR, THE TWO AMERICAN PLANES ARE NOW BRUTALLY SLOWING DOWN AFTER ATTAINING SPEEDS OF 2,600 MILES PER HOUR… I HAVE MISSILE LAUNCHES FROM THE AMERICAN PLANES AT THE EGYPTIANS FROM A DISTANCE OF THIRTEEN MILES. THEY FIRED FROM THE FRONTAL ARC, THUS THOSE MISSILES MUST BE RADAR-GUIDED.’’
‘’Damn! Those Americans keep surprising us today.’’ Grumbled Bisley to himself. The radar officer soon spoke again.
‘’THE TWO MISSILES HAVE HIT THEIR TARGETS, SIR!’’
‘’Two hits from thirteen miles away? Hell, the R.A.F. will choke on that.’’
‘’Two more missiles have just been launched, sir… HITS! Those two missiles also went true. The Egyptians are now turning around and fleeing back to Egyptian airspace, but the Americans are still in pursuit.’’
Captivated by the combat’s blow to blow description by the radar officer, Bisley took some time to write his message to the Admiralty and another message for the Egyptian Air Force headquarters. The eight Egyptian jet aircraft that had been heading for Tel Aviv were all shot down by the time his draft messages were completed and ready for the Captain’s signature. A new report from the radar officer made Bisley’s skin crawl just as Captain Maitland was entering the command center.
‘’Sir, eight more F-83s just appeared on my screens, doing over Mach 3: they are heading for the Egyptian jets now flying towards Beersheba, in the Negev Desert.’’
‘’Christ! Those Egyptians are about to eat their socks.’’
‘’What is happening, Mister Bisley?’’ Asked Maitland, his tone showing his concern as he stopped besides his operations officer. Bisley’s answer was preempted by yet another report from the radar officer.
‘’Salvo of eight American air-to-air missiles on the way from a distance of twelve miles!... The missiles have broken through Mach 3… Multiple hits! Seven out of eight missiles have hit their targets… The Egyptian survivors are now turning around, with the American in pursuit, sir.’’
Maitland’s eyes opened wide at those reports.
‘’That would make a total of eleven hits out of twelve missiles fired. Those American missiles are pure murder. After such a beating, the Egyptians will refuse to return to Palestinian airspace.’’
‘’I would tend to agree with you, sir.’’ Said Bisley before hesitating and lowering his voice. ‘’If the Americans show the same caliber of combat performance on the ground, then our strategic plans concerning Palestine could very well fizzle out, sir. We could be forced to intervene ourselves to support the Arabs, Captain.’’
Maitland made a grimace at that last suggestion.
‘’I would let the imperial general staff decide about that option, Mister Bisley. To directly fight the Americans or even to act in support of Arab attacks against them would not be to my taste at all. Our material military support to the Arabs is already quite unpopular at the United Nations…and in Washington. If we do anything in direct combat support of the Arabs, it will be solely on London’s orders.’’
‘’Uh, yes Captain!’’
08:54 (Jerusalem Time)
Ramat David airbase
Galilee, Palestine
Eli Shomron, standing besides Major Moshe Eshkol on the open observation gallery of the base’s control tower, watched with total fascination the arrival of the American air armada in Ramat David. A total of 26 big four-engine transport aircraft, ten of them jet aircraft, had just landed one by one on one of the runways of the base, to then roll towards the main tarmac and let out hundreds of persons and dozens of vehicles. The heavy duty forklifts that had come from the USS EMPRESS AUGUSTA were now hard at work, entering the big C-142 and C-152 transports by their rear cargo ramps and coming out with pallets loaded with various equipments and supplies. Those pallets were then put down on top of flatbed trucks waiting in long files to carry those supplies to the various storage sites of the base. A fleet of big tanker trucks were also circulating around the cargo planes, refueling them as a long column of jeeps and armored cars mounting machine guns that had rolled out of the transports was forming up on the tarmac.. Shomron returned his eyes towards the main runway as another thirteen aircraft started landing. Twelve of them looked like some types of cargo planes, while the last one was a smaller, much sleeker-looking aircraft. When that smaller transport aircraft stopped on a designated spot of the tarmac and started letting out a dozen passengers, the tiny size of one of those passengers attracted the attention of Major Eshkol.
‘’Wait! Is that a child I see coming out of that plane, Eli?’’
A glance from the Jewish Agency representative was enough to confirm Eshkol’s sighting.
‘’Uh, effectively. This is weird! Who would bring a child into a war zone? The presence of so many women in this American force is already surprising. We will have to ask General Dows about this.’’
Continuing to watch the arrival of American planes, the two Jews finally saw twenty big, intimidating-looking jet fighter-bombers land last. The American major in charge of the base installations then joined them and pointed one of the F-83s now rolling on the taxiways towards the now crowded main tarmac.
‘’Gentlemen, Major General Dows has now landed. If you may follow me.’’
Going down via the internal staircase of the control tower, the trio then went to Eshkol’s jeep, which was parked at the foot of the tower, with an Israeli woman at the wheel. Major Winslow sat in his own jeep, also parked beside the tower, with Eshkol pointing the American jeep to his driver.
‘’Follow that jeep, Deborah.’’
‘’Got it, Moshe.’’ Replied the driver in the informal manner common between the combatants of the Haganah, irrespective of rank. Starting her jeep, the woman followed Winslow’s jeep to the southern tarmac, towards which the first F-83s were approaching via the taxiways. To the surprise of Eshkol and Shomron, another American jeep was already waiting there, a tiny little girl sitting in it with an female soldier and with a young woman dressed in an Arabic robe. Stepping out of his jeep, Eshkol went to that jeep and smiled to the cute Asian little girl, speaking to her in English.
‘’Hello! You came from Vietnam with the planes?’’
The child nodded her head and pointed the last F-83 in the file of approaching fighter-bombers and spoke in an hesitant English.
‘’My mother…in last plane.’’
‘’Her adoptive mother is Major General Ingrid Dows.’’ Added in Hebrew the young woman in Arabic robe. ‘’I am Sarah Ur, Hien’s nanny.’’
Eshkol shook hands with her, secretly admiring her remarkable beauty.
‘’And I’m Major Moshe Eshkol, Commander of the Hanita Battalion. This is Mister Eli Shomron, representative of the Jewish Agency.’’
‘’Pleased to meet you, Miss Ur.’’ Said Shomron, also shaking the hand of the teenager. ‘’You have a decidedly biblical sounding name, miss.’’
‘’I was born in Ur, in Irak, Mister Shomron. However, my parents went early to live in Germany, then in France, before moving to Lebanon and finally to then Indochina in order to escape the war. I am also a childhood friend of Ingrid Dows, when she was living in Berlin.’’
Eli Shomron nodded his head at that, having read in the past the book Ingrid had written and published about her early career as a fighter pilot, plus many newspaper articles about her. He thus already knew, like Eshkol, that Ingrid Dows was a German Jew and that she had served briefly with the Luftwaffe during World War Two.
‘’And she adopted this adorable little girl in Indochina, I presume?’’
‘’Yes, in January. Her English is still limited but she is making rapid progress under my tutelage. She however can speak French, on top of Vietnamese.’’
The group then fell silent, the growing noise of the jet engines of the F-83s precluding conversations. Denise Bateman put a pair of ear muffs over Hien’s ears, distributing more ear muffs around before herself putting a pair on. A good hundred aircraft mechanics and technicians, all women, were waiting around the group with a variety of maintenance vehicles and equipment and got busy as soon as the first F-83s came to a stop on the tarmac and shut down their engines. Denise Bateman soon started up her jeep and led the two other jeeps to a F-83 with ‘LADY HAWK’ painted in large pink and black letters on the side of its nose, along with a staggering number of little Japanese and German miniature flags and over two dozen red stars, each one denoting a past air victory. Eshkol couldn’t help being impressed by that display of air combat mastery as he approached on foot the plane with Shomron, Winslow, Bateman, Ur and the little girl. Two young women wearing flight gear were now climbing down from the cockpit. The pilot, a very beautiful young woman with reddish-brown hair and big blue eyes, hurried first to the little girl, greeting her with open arms and hugging and kissing her.
‘’Hien, my love! How was your flight?’’ Said Ingrid in Vietnamese between two kisses.
‘’It went well, Mommy.’’
‘’Good! I unfortunately have to take care of a few things now, but I promise to have lunch with you afterwards.’’
Putting Hien Dows, Ingrid then faced Major Winslow, who saluted her.
‘’Major Barney Winslow, designated logistics officer for this airbase, General.’’
‘’At ease!’’ Said Ingrid, returning his salute. ‘’Did the landing of our troops and support equipment and supplies go as planned?’’
‘’Yes, General! All our vehicles are now on the base and our truck convoys are in the process of bringing in our supplies from our ships in Haifa. We also have a single line railroad linking us with Haifa, with a train presently helping to move in our stocks of bombs and other heavy ordnance. Everything should be in storage here within two days.’’
‘’Excellent! We may need them quickly, in fact: we already had to shoot down two groups of Egyptian aircraft bent on bombing Tel Aviv and Beersheba and I expect more Arab attacks to follow up soon.’’
Winslow then half turned to show her the two waiting Israelis standing to his left.
‘’General, this is Mister Eli Shomron, representative of the Jewish Agency, and Major Moshe Eshkol, Commander of the Hanita Battalion, which is helping us defend this base.’’
‘’Major General Ingrid Dows, Commander of the Palestine Interposition Force. Pleased to meet you.’’ Said Ingrid while shaking hands with them. ‘’I propose that we all go right away to the base operations center, so that we could discuss the tactical situation around Palestine.’’
Ingrid looked next at Julia Miller, her radar and weapons officer.
‘’Julia, have our plane rearmed and refueled, then go get your quarters with the other aircrews.’’
‘’Right away, General!’’
As Julia was giving orders to the mechanics around their plane, Ingrid went to the baggage compartment of her F-83, situated under the cockpit, and extracted from it two suitcases, one locked briefcase and her M2A1 carbine, putting them in Denise Bateman’s jeep before looking at Winslow.
‘’Guide us to the base operations center, Major.’’
‘’Yes, General!’’
The trip was short, the base operations building being less tha