That night, the cake she baked was devoured at the party before it was even over. Even I managed to forget, just for a little while, that in a few hours I’d have to part from my beloved.
Lily, who had been the life of the party all evening, turned somber once we said goodbye to the friends. Before David left, we agreed to pick him up on the way to Parkview Medical Center, where we were to report for the army. Once the apartment was empty, I stood in front of her and looked into her eyes. I thought of the blood pact. She gave me the same look back.
“My Lily, this is it. Tomorrow, we part physically, but I’ll be with you everywhere. You’ll be with me in places I can’t even imagine yet.” My throat tightened with tears.
“Take care of yourself – for your sake and for mine. I need you.”
“I’ll do my best, as much as I can.”
“And take care of David too,” she added suddenly, just before we fell asleep. Two months later, during a night exercise at the officers’ course, those words came back to me. David and I were crouched in a trench, waiting to charge a fortified position. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of gunfire. Instinctively, I ducked and shoved David’s head down. A tracer round from our own machine-gun crew whistled inches above his skull. Our eyes met, filled with a mixture of shock and fear. It took a while before we could breathe again.
Chapter 20
First Parting
After countless hugs and kisses, we finally parted. David was already inside the base waiting for me. When I caught up with him, I turned around and waved goodbye to her. For the first time in our life together, I didn’t know when we’d see each other again. The army has its own rhythm.
The meeting with the young second lieutenant sitting across from me was straightforward. A few personal questions – about family, a girlfriend, maybe future marriage, risks of dismissal for improper conduct, leave days – and the strangest one: which member of the group I would want to room with. It seemed clear that the question was a way to preempt difficulties that might cause dismissal; friendship could help prevent that. So I wasn’t surprised when David, who was interviewed after me, asked immediately afterward:
“Who did you say you wanted to room with?”
“With you, of course!” I replied.
“Did he ask you about marriage during the course?” David asked pointedly.
“I told him I was about to get married.”
“Michael, you’ve only been with Lily for three weeks, and you’re already saying you’re getting married? Does she even know?”
“No, not at all.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to marry you?”
“Maybe. I never asked her.”
“So what exactly did you say to him?”
“That I was getting married soon.”
“How soon?”
“A week, two weeks,” I said with confidence, as if facts couldn’t bother me.
“How are you going to get married in a week?” David pressed.
“You’re not even going home for the next three weeks.”
“Who says?”Three weeks without Lily? I wouldn’t survive, I thought.
“Michael, you’re dreaming. Get it into your head: there is no leave for the first three weeks of the course.” David tried to bring me down to earth. I told him I’d find a phone to let her know it would be a while before I could leave. David laughed and asked if I wanted to share my despair with her too. To my misfortune – or maybe not – a phone was out of the question; none of the phones on base were working. When I returned to the group, I told David that the officer had said that if I got married, there was a chance they’d dismiss me.
“Do you want to be dismissed?”
“Is that how you know me?” In truth, the thought of marriage first began to sink in during that conversation with the officer, but I wasn’t willing to pay the price of dismissal. That seemed far too high a cost. We were the first class of medical-track cadets who were required to go through officer training. We had no one to ask for advice, no older students to prepare us. Our high school classmates had been discharged long ago; some had even left the country. We had been chosen to blaze a new trail for the Medical Corps.
“You’re the spearhead of the corps,” the IDF Surgeon General told us before enlistment.
“All eyes are on you, and I hope we’ll be proud when you stand on the parade ground at the end of the course.” Toward evening, on the night of November 9th, we reached Mitzpe Ramon. Only then did I understand how easy it would be to slip onto the path of dismissal, a road I was determined not to take.
