The Circle: Terror and Triumph in the Holy Land - Hardcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

H. Edward Schmidt spent the better part of his life in public service, including tours in the United States Army in Europe and the United States Peace Corps in Washington DC and Africa.

Aus dem Klappentext

June 1907

They are here! They have arrived in the Holy Land. The Poletsky family, Arach and his wife, and their two children. Sarah and Yitzhak gaze from the ship upon the busy port of Jaffa. Beyond the water's edge lies the land of their dreams.

Arach will work with the Jewish National Fund to purchase land for the new settlers, coming in increasing numbers in the second aliyeh. His family will live in Jerusalem.

In Jerusalem, Abdul Latif works with his son, Ismael in Abdul's shop. They have heard the news about their new neighbors who would be arriving soon from Russia. Abdul hopes the Poletsky's will be good neighbors like the Weizmann's.

With the arrival of the Poletsky's, Ismael, Yitzhak and Sarah become friends, their friendship untouched by the growing tension between Arabs and Jews all around them.

June 1917

The Great War engulfs Palestine. Fueled by British promises of the land now part of the Ottoman Empire, the Arabs revolt. Ismael joins the revolt, fighting beside Major Lawrence, the British advisor to Faisal. The young feda'ee returns home a hero, full of hope for a free Palestine.

The British promise the same land in Palestine to the Jews, to establish a homeland. Yitzhak, caught in the heady dream of a Jewish nation, joins the Circle. A secret organization known only to a few, its charter is the murder of the enemies of Zionism.

The deceit of the British pits Arabs against Jews, many of whom do not share the Zionist vision of a Jewish state but one where Jews and Arabs are citizens of a free Palestine state. Sarah and her father share this vision, which drives a wedge between father and son, brother and sister.

On a beautiful spring morning, Yitzhak turns onto his street. What he sees inexplicably stuns him. Standing before their home, a smiling Sarah is talking to a tall young Arab. It is Ismael,whom he has not seen in three years. Ismael, his closest friend. "What have I done!?" he mutters to himself.

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Aqaba

The silence around the two warriors was broken by the muted sounds of thousands of padded feet, lowered voices, and the unwelcome clang of metal, quickly stilled. In the dim light he saw the mounted army come into view, the commanders in the lead, six abreast on richly adorned camels, then warriors with Faisal s banners, then the army of thousands, most joining since Abba el Lissan for the plundering of Aqaba. Ismael moved to the side to watch the magnificent army, then found Awrans and fell in beside him.

The dawn appeared suddenly as the sun turned the western rim of the Wadi gold. Today they would not have the sun to help them, for Wadi Itim pointed south to their objective. Each of the men was aware of the light, which became their enemy, as they moved to the turn where Aqaba would lay before them.

Major Lawrence turned from his place beside Nasir to view the army which he, by will and good fortune, had brought to this point. This was an army that had created havoc by disrupting supply lines, and defeating small detachments of Turks. What had happened at Abba el Lissan was one of the greatest single victories of the War. His Bedouin army was about to complete one of the most glorious campaigns in Arab history. This was the victory which would tell the world of the Arab might and of Lawrence of Arabia. Most of the men here, he thought, could neither read nor write, but they would remember, and their children and grandchildren would remember. Many would die here today. He may be one of them. He thought that of little consequence; only that he would be remembered.

Dawn brought light into the valley as their camels began to slow to form for battle. The fedayeen must pray in their saddles, for there was no time or room for anything else.

The army began to move. Slowly, at first as it neared the turn where Aqaba would be before them. There were two courses open. They would be in Aqaba or they would be in Paradise by evening. The right flank wheeled as the left stood in place waiting until the army spanned the valley. As the commanders, with Lawrence, faced the sea, there stood the white buildings of Aqaba, pink now with the first rays of the morning sun. Most men did not notice the jagged skyline of the town, torn by bombardment, for there was another Aqaba in their mind's eye.

One voice, then two, then ten, then thousands in graduating unity, until the valley floor resonated with the sound: "Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar!" Then the chilling high pitched sounds familiar through the centuries of Arab warriors bent on havoc and death, reverberating through the valley, echoing against the buildings, blending with the sounds of thousands of padded feet that rumbled on the hard sand. The sounds woke the Turkish commanders, confounding them because they were conditioned to expect an attack from the sea. Was it a sandstorm? Thunder? It could not be the British. A young Sergeant rushed into the Turkish headquarters, his face drained of color. "They are coming down the Wadi!"

The thundering, howling army reached the defenses before the first shots could be fired. Skilled at using the enemies' weapons, the invaders quickly seized abandoned machine guns and began using them on encircled pockets of demoralized and panicked Turkish soldiers.

Most of the Turks ran for cover, waiting for the opportunity to escape or surrender. Some retreated to the harbor's edge and fought bravely but vainly, finally cut down by their own automatic and heavy weapons. It was an inglorious end, men begging for mercy, more than their share being officers, who now demanded to be treated like the officers of the conquerors, having no notion of what that meant to men who were accustomed to a bit of bread and water each day when they fought.

The Arab commanders joined at the edge of the sea, looked back at the misery of the town and the pathetic Turkish soldiers, and could not revel, as they hoped, in their victory. Ismael watched them somberly as the dismounted men looked out to sea. To their rear, the prisoners were being brought together before the government building, Faisal s commanders discussing how they would house them. Some thought of how the Turks would have cut the throats of their prisoners, if the situation were reversed. But the Arab army wisely encouraged the Turks not to offer resistance because they would be allowed to live.

Lawrence, who had moved away from everyone, stood looking out to sea, trying to determine how best to use the victory they had achieved today. He must get in touch with Cairo to let the high command know what a great victory they had achieved here today and to remind them of the debt they owed to the Prince. He would need to get the army north to join Faisal as quickly as possible, to begin the march on Damascus.

The first moment he had reached the sea, Lawrence had been depressed at the condition of the Turkish army, at the unwillingness of the Turks to fight, the brevity of the battle. Yet thinking of what lay ahead, his spirits soared. He breathed deeply, savoring the smell of cordite and the salty sea. Yes, this was a great victory over the Wadi Itm and over the Turks. He must see to it that the whole world knows. That he knew how to do.