Gideon Telpaz
FOUR CAMELS OUT OF THE 'DESERT
The war swept on and nobody stayed behind to bury the
dead. 1 could smell them lying in the dunes as 1 drove along the des–
ert highway past charred vehicles, abandoned gun emplacements,
enemy tanks that yesterday were fierce and yellow as the desert sand
and today black junk.
My unit had sped on ahead . By the time 1 caught up with it,
the Arab coastal town to whose hospital 1 was assigned had fallen.
The last shots of snipers still rained from the nearby dunes, but all
over the town, from balconies and rooftops, white flags were flying.
1 pulled up beside an MP standing next to his motorcycle in a
square in front of the mosque. "Which way to the hospital?"
"Follow me," he said, revving up his motorcycle .
At the entrance to the hospital 1 was met by a sergeant of the
Medical Corps, a heavyset reservist. "Sergeant Bashan," he intro–
duced himself, "and you must be the doctor we're expecting." He was
in the unit that had arrived here the day before.
We walked down the long corridor, his loud voice reverberating
in the empty ward as he gave me the rundown on the hospital.
"They all beat it. Medical personnel and patients. Everyone
who could picked himself up and bolted before we got in."
"And those who could not?"
"We found thirteen dead here. Mostly soldiers."
"How many?" 1 stopped short.
"Thirteen ."
We went into the operating room. A dead man was lying on the
table, his amputated arm on the floor in a blot of dried blood.
"They left him like that, in the middle of surgery," Sergeant
Bashan said .
"Why didn't you remove him?"
"I thought you might want to see how we found the hospital."
After he left 1 explored the hospital further. The corridors had
the familiar antiseptic odor, but mingled with it were the distinctive
smells of an Arab town. Through the windows of the upper floor 1
could see the sea, calm, gently lapping, streaked with silver. Closer
were the narrow alleys, the low squat houses, the mosque, and the
palm trees on the beach. There was movement in the alleyways .
