Word got out, I think from the Zionist Federation in South Africa, that suitable recruits would be needed for Israel’s army in the new State of Israel which would come into being in May 1948, and it was feared that all the Arab nations in the Middle East would be ready to attack the fledgling state.
Some of the new recruits were trained at the Bacher farm near Krugersdorp. Early in June, a group of 24 volunteers left Palmietfontein Airport in the middle of the night. We spent the first night of our flight in Entebbe and the second in Khartoum, at a hotel on the Nile. We left Khartoum for Rome, where we kicked our heels for a few days while awaiting our departure orders. We left from Rome Airport, flew to Haifa, and landed around midnight.
From the airport, we were taken by bus to the Technion on Mount Carmel. Upon arrival, we were ushered into a huge hall that served as a dormitory. I think there were at least 100 beds there, side by side, occupied by men and women. The next day we learned that many of the people there were displaced persons, Holocaust survivors rescued from concentration camps. They all had tattoos on their arms. It was very emotional for us to meet so many fellow Jews who had suffered great hardships.
A few days after our arrival, our South African contingent was sent to the Tel Litwinsky (Tel Hashomer) Camp. From there we were assigned to various units. Bully and I were sent to the Ramat David airbase. Upon reporting to the O.C., he enquired if we were husband and wife, and we replied in the affirmative. He told us that he would not have married couples on the base. One of us could stay, but the other would have to go. We thanked him and told him that we would both go, as we had no intention of being separated.
We made our way back to Tel Litwinsky and upon our arrival we were told that the 101 Fighter Squadron was badly in needed of a nurse. Bully and I hitched a ride to Herzlia, where the squadron was based. The O.C., Modi Alon, a Sabra and an outstanding pilot, met us when we arrived.
Bully was assigned to the ground crew. My duties were dressing wounds, dispensing medicines, and attending to matters that required my nursing skills. I also referred personnel to the medical officer (M.O.). I kept an inventory of medicines and bandages and gave the lists of what was needed to the M.O., whose job it was to try to obtain the items from the medical stores in Tel Aviv.
Whenever a plane took off or landed, either the M.O. or I had to be present at the airfield. The doctor and I took turns with these duties. When he was on field duty, I was in the clinic, and when he had to see patients, I had to be on field duty. The ambulance was parked next to the runway, with a driver, medical orderly, and either the M.O. or I present.
Sadly, our O.C., Modi Alon, whom we loved and respected, was killed while flying over the base on October 16th. He had taken a plane up after mechanics had worked on it. There had been a problem with the undercarriage, and Modi said that he would take the plane up and test whether the problem had been solved.
However, the undercarriage was still malfunctioning, and something went wrong. The engine cut out, the plane caught fire and crashed, killing Modi. His pregnant wife was at the field that day, as she had come to take him to a big Air Force celebration in Tel Aviv that evening. Syd Cohen, another South African, was appointed O.C. after Modi’s death. In October the squadron was relocated south to a larger airfield at Kastina.
A truce was negotiated soon after the move. When the truce was declared, Bully’s father asked us to return to South Africa. Both he and Aaron Senior were getting on in years, and they needed Bully to help in the business. We left Israel at the end of December.