The Glory Read Free Page A

the ship and she to her duties at the air base, and just those
     dry words sent a warm flush from his scalp to his toes. There was also a hand-delivered letter on Dan Hotel stationery, from
     someone signing himself Jack Barkowe, who wrote in English that they were cousins, that he had come to Israel on aliya, and
     that he was having difficulty getting his car through customs. Could Noah recommend an agent in Haifa to assist him?
    Noah was astonished. He knew that a branch of the family in Long Island had altered the Berkowitz name to Barkowe, but this
     was the first he had heard of the cousin, and an American making aliya these days was a real rarity. The newspapers were full
     of articles complaining about the failure of American Jews to start emigrating en masse to Israel, now that the Six-Day War
     had secured the Promised Land as the Jewish State once for all. What was wrong with those millions of American Jews? Here
     was the moment they and their fathers and their forefathers had been praying for three times a day, century after century,
     the glorious chance to Return to Zion! And American Jews were indeed coming to Israel in droves, to see sights hitherto barred
     to them — the Wailing Wall, Jericho, Hebron, Sinai — for three, five or ten days, depending on the tour plans. Tourism, yes,
     aliya, no. In and out.
Z’beng v’gamarnu!
(Bang and finish!) More power to this Long Island cousin, Noah decided, he deserved help at the Mekhess.
    The captain leaned in the doorway as Noah was stripping to shower. “So, Noah, what happened at supply?”
    “Again, no countermeasures.”
    “What’s the delay this time?”
    “
Balagan
[Foul-up], that’s what. Balagan beyond belief. Captain, the requisitions I submitted sat in somebody’s in-basket for
two weeks
. I tracked them down myself. They just went out Tuesday. I made a big scandal with the head supply officer, Colonel Fischer.
     You know what he said? He said, ‘Lieutenant, calm down. Do you really think the Egyptians can aim and fire missiles? Anyway,
     whatever missiles they’ve got are Russian, they’re bound to malfunction. You’ll get your countermeasures by November, that’s
     three weeks away. So what’s the fuss?’ ”
    “He doesn’t have to patrol off Port Said,” observed the captain gloomily. There was hard intelligence of Soviet-made Osa and
     Komar missile boats of the Egyptian navy in Port Said. But they had not gone into action in the war, so senior navy officers,
     unlike the two destroyer captains, were not taking them seriously.
    Under the steaming shower Noah wondered how he could assist his American cousin. Haifa customs agents were all alike, except
     that some were more rascally than others. He couldn’t leave the ship, but it occurred to him that Daphna might help the guy.
     She often got Friday off, and Barkowe might simply have a language problem.
    J ack Barkowe ordered an early breakfast in his hotel room and sat at the window, delighting in the spectacular view of Haifa
     harbor. Like San Francisco, only prettier, he thought in his exalted mood. The Mekhess snag had not fazed him. His family
     and friends, trying to dissuade him from going on aliya, had harped on the notorious Israeli bureaucracy. Well, here he was,
     and he would lick the Mekhess and bring in his Porsche. It was as good a way as any to cut his teeth on his new life.
    The door opened and in rolled a room service table ahead of a waiter smiling and singing the victory song that had swept Israel.
    Jerusalem of gold,
    Of bronze and of light …
    “And where is
Adoni
[Milord] going today?” inquired the waiter, a little dark mustached man in a white coat. “Nazareth? The Golan Heights? The
     Sea of Galilee? The tomb of Maimonides, maybe? That’s very good luck, the tomb of Maimonides. It’s near Tiberias. I visited
     it, and my wife got pregnant with twins.”
    “I’m not married.”
    “Visit the tomb of Maimonides, and you’ll get married. To a