The Jerusalem Post International Edition
Wednesday, April 29, 1998 - 4 Iyar 5758
Recalling the desperate battles
for Latrun
By ALLAN RABINOWITZ
(April 28) - Everyday, thousands of cars on the Jerusalem-Tel
Aviv highway zoom past the junction of the road to Ashdod,
passing the old British police fortress of Latrun, with
a tank perched on a tower beside it. The tank monument
is part of a museum and memorial to the armored corps
of the IDF.
But the Latrun fortress itself stands as
a sort of monument to the the bloody struggles that took
place for this crucial point fifty years ago during the
War of Independence.
The protracted battles that exploded around
the fortress and wheat fields of Latrun, like the those
of the entire war, were marked by chaos, acute shortages
of materials and manpower, dissent within the command structure,
and by the mistakes that appear tragic and even stupid in
hindsight. The battles were also characterized by blind
arbitrary luck, incredible courage, sacrifice and determination.
From the observation post on the roof of
the fort, the crucial importance of this topography becomes
clear. To the west and south, the hills are low, gentle,
rolling. But east of the fortress the hills thrust up with
sudden ruggedness.
According to the biblical account, Joshua
charged down after the Amorites from the Horon descent,
northeast of here in the Ayalon Valley. There the Amorites
were pummeled with stones from the heavens, and the sun
and moon stood still while Joshua finished them off.
Also near here, Judah the Macabees defeated
the Seleucids. King Richard the Lionhearted was also here:
the ruins of a Crusader fortress he controlled gazes down
from the high ridge top to the east.
And on these gentle swells, golden with
wheat in the spring of 1948, with the Jewish state just
ten days old, European refugees fresh off the boat, with
no training and little Hebrew, charged toward this massive
fortress with its iron gun slits.
David Ben-Gurion had insisted repeatedly
that Latrun must and must - and could - be taken.
Latrun guarded the access to the Sha'ar
Hagai pass, four kilometers eastward, where the road to
Jerusalem narrowed into a stony ravine bottleneck of stony
ravine. Without that pass the Jerusalem road could not be
controlled. The 95,000 Jews in Jerusalem were in danger
of starvation and capture and the city itself would be lost.
Ben-Gurion insisted on saving Jerusalem
by taking Latrun. Chief of staff Yigael Yadin fiercely opposed
the effort, arguing that it would dangerously thin already
embattled forces. Yadin believed that Jerusalem could be
dealt with later, and that a direct assault on Latrun would
be suicidal.
Ironically, the Arab garrison had abandoned
the outpost shortly before. An Israeli unit had moved in
and had also left. So the focus of several future bloody
battles was left empty for two critical days, before an
Arab force returned.
A sense of foreboding gripped the usually
confident Israeli officers as rapid battle plans were laid
out and new immigrants were gathered at their launching
point. The names of some were not even officially registered
anywhere.
They had trained for barely a week, had
no common language, and were issued outdated weapons,, some
of them holding guns for the first time. and unreliable
weapons. Some of the men wore bright shirts and sandals.
They lacked a common language, and enough water to withstand
the scorching heat.
What was meant to be a surprise pre-dawn
attack started late, and the rising sun revealed motley
units charging across the wheat fields. But heavy artillery
(which according to intelligence reports hardly existed)
was trained on every rise and gully.
The attack fell apart as Arab sharpshooters
ravaged the disintegrating ranks. Raw recruits, screaming
in Yiddish, broken Hebrew and a cacophony of other languages,
panicked and broke ranks, to be mowed down like the wheat
around them. Remnants who gathered on a hill were in danger
of encirclement, and retreated with the dead and seriously
wounded who had been uncharacteristically left behind.
A second attack, commanded by the American
colonel Mickey Marcus, nearly succeeded, with Israeli sappers
and armored cars penetrating the fortress courtyard; the
shell holes can still be seen in the thick walls. But enemy
artillery, and a series of mistakes, missed cues and un-used
forces turned it into defeat.
By the time a third attack was launched,
the alternative Burma Road - a thin track to the south that
was carved out and completed with stunning daring and rapidity
- now threaded the steep, rocky hills towards Jerusalem.
Four attempts failed to take the fortress, but ultimately
the Burma Road allowed Israeli convoys to bypass Latrun
completely.
Today, armored vehicles, including tanks
from the 1948 war, again surround Latrun, as part of the
armored corps museum displays and memorial there. The strength
and sophistication of Israel's armor since then, on view
at the museum, offers a sharp contrast to to the vulnerable
contraptions scraped together for the assault on Latrun
fifty years ago.
Displays include the American tanks that
are part of Israel's modern arsenal, Russian tanks captured
from Arab armies, and several models of the innovative Israeli
Merkava, considered one of the best tanks in the world.
Inside the museum, a movie highlights the
versatility of modern armored vehicles, and the camaraderie
and expertise of tankistim. For me, the most powerful scene
in the film iwas the blinded tankist pleading for the ability
to see his baby daughter for just one moment.
Outside, a long wall engraved with names
honors the armored corps soldiers who died in action. But
inside, there is a different kind of memorial, a computer
filled with files on the lives of the fallen soldiers, with
reminiscences by family and friends. As the reader learns
about the individuality of each man listed on the outside
wall, the enormity of the losses becomes overpowering.
But for so many who tried to take this strategic
point in their first days in their new homeland, to help
save lives in Jerusalem, there are no computer files; their
names remain unknown.
Allan Rabinowitz is a licensed tour guide.