Yatom left the mortar position and walked back a few dozen meters to the makeshift aid station. There doctors and nurses continued to work under crowded and difficult conditions on an ever mounting number of wounded. A sad line of uncovered corpses was growing too—blankets could not be spared to cover the dead. Yatom was surprised to see that Ido had rejoined them. Having beaten back the armored attack on the ridge’s left flank, he come back on his own, trusting that a pair of nearby Jewish bunkers could hold any stranded German infantry.
Yatom was about to upbraid the medic for leaving his position without orders when he saw Mofaz and Nir stumbling toward the aid station, the wounded Rafi draped across their shoulders. Yatom stalked over to the three men, meeting Mofaz’s eyes—the Major returned his gaze, knowing exactly what was coming. “Mofaz!” growled Yatom “I did not give you permission to leave your position.”
Mofaz ignored the sayeret leader, and continued to drag Rafi to the aid station, setting him down gently against a tree. “Where is Ido?” asked Mofaz, as if he had not heard Yatom’s reproof.
“Nir” said Yatom “get Ido and bring him to Rafi, then rejoin us in the forester’s settlement.” The sergeant ran off toward to find Ido somewhere among the trees, leaving the two officers alone. Yatom had no words for Mofaz, who had only done what Yatom knew he would. Ignoring Rafi, who groaned beneath the tree, Yatom again locked his eyes on Mofaz. “Acharai” said Yatom, washing that simple and iconic Israeli word—meaning ‘after me’—in wrath and disappointment. Yatom ran off towards the forester’s settlement, hoping it was not too late. Mofaz paused and looked at Rafi, then set off after his commander. “Acharai” was not a request.
They arrived to find an SS platoon attacking the last two surviving bunkers in the settlement with submachineguns and grenades. In the distance Yatom caught sight of a pair of Germans men leading off a group of resigned Jewish prisoners. Through the smoke and dust the Israeli officers managed to sprint unnoticed to the shack where Rafi had been hit. The SS had already been there, leaving behind two dead Jewish fighters. The commandos were now behind two advancing SS assault squads. In the further distance, more SS troops were attacking the low ridge where Fliegel’s men now had established hasty positions. Yatom pressed down on his anger and concentrated on the tactical situation. “How much ammo do you have left?”
“Two mags for the Tavor—one 40mm grenade, three hand grenades” answered Mofaz “and my pistol.” The Major had had the presence of mind to take last magazine, but not to get Nir’s one last 40mm grenade. Yatom also low on ammo and grenades. Outside the Germans were getting ready to assault the last Jewish bunker in the settlement, from which a single Bren gun still spat occasional defiance.
Yatom pointed to a German MG 42 crew shooting at the bunker, and tapped the grenade launcher slung under Mofaz’s Tavor. Mofaz fired the grenade and the machinegun fell silent. “Cover me” said Yatom. He ran out the door toward the Germans, approaching them from behind. Mofaz did not consider for a moment to abandon his commander As the Germans in the nearest assault squad turned toward the unexpected threat at their backs, Mofaz opened fire, hitting two of the surprised men and pinning down the rest. Yatom dived behind a shattered hut and tossed his last grenades at the German squad. The remaining SS men disappeared in the blast, dead or fled.
The other German squad now turned to face the Israelis from a nearby shallow ditch. Yatom pinned them with his Tavor as Mofaz sprinted forward to join him. Together again, the commandos rolled to their left and tossed two of Mofaz’s remaining grenades. A German responded with a grenade, spraying shrapnel that was mostly absorbed by the commandos’ helmets and vests. Mofaz threw his last grenade. The Israeli officers bound forward toward the Germans firing bursts from their last magazines on the way in. An SS sergeant rose from the ditch, firing his MP-40 at the onrushing commandos, hitting both men in the chest. Protected by their vests and mad with adrenaline, the Israelis shrugged off the hits and gunned down the stunned SS man. Yatom jumped into the German position finding three shocked young SS recruits who raised their hands in surrender. Yatom quickly calculated his situation, which was still desperate, and didn’t allow for prisoners. He shot them each with a single round, sparing his last bullets.
Yatom and Mofaz surveyed the blasted settlement from the ditch they shared with the German dead. It was quiet. The Israelis crawled back in the direction of the main ridge and collapsed behind the single surviving Jewish bunker position in the forester’s settlement. The commandos were shaken and dog-tired, the last of the adrenaline rush sending shivers through their bodies, despite the weight of their equipment and the growing heat of the early afternoon. In the distance another SS squad appeared to be assembling. The rear door of the fortified hut ereaked open, and one of the two surviving Jews in the position, a Dutchman named Gert, invited them in.
Mofaz knew Gert from training. He was veteran of the Dutch army and a platoon leader.
“I’m glad you came when you did” said Gert gratefully in English, which he knew Mofaz understood. Mofaz just nodded tiredly, and turned toward Yatom. “Commander, I’ll stay here. You should return to the central position.” Yatom gave Mofaz a curt dip of his chin, and left the bunker, shuffling away to the reverse slope of the main ridge.
As Yatom stumbled away, the bulk of Stadler’s 1st Company launched their final attack on low flanking hill to the east of the forester’s settlement. There the SS ran head on into Fliegel’s company, which had just moved into several small bunkers and slit trenches that a work crew had dug the day before. The two opposing units were roughly equal in number and firepower, and most of the SS troopers had little more training than Fliegel’s Jews.
The Germans had the more difficult task, attacking the dug-in defenders uphill, with no artillery or armored support. Despite the challenge, the leading SS platoon—at great cost—overran the first Jewish trenches, taking a dozen bewildered young men prisoner, Encouraged, the company commander, Untersturmfuhrer Friedhelm, led a fresh platoon into to the assault. If he succeeded, the entire Jewish position would crumble.
Yatom, dimly aware of the critical battle now raging behind his line, returned to the aid station where he found Nir, Ido and a doctor huddled over Rafi, alive but still unconscious. Yatom told Nir to rejoin Mofaz, annoyed that the sergeant had not already returned to the fight, and left Ido with the doctor and Rail.
Suddenly there was rifle fire from the mortar position off to Yatom’s left. Yatom turned nervously toward Poldolsky, worried that his rear positions were now under attack, but the mortarman just shrugged his shoulders. The position seemed secure and there were no Germans in sight. Yatom looked off toward where the mortarmen had shot, somewhere near Ido’s old position, but saw nothing. He figured that the mortar-men, like everybody else, were just shaken and scared, firing at shadows.
Moments later a truck pulled up behind the aide station. Perchensky hopped out, accompanied by twenty reluctant looking from Biali. On the low ridge to the northeast, the fighting continued to rage between Fliegel’s men and the SS. Some of the men and boys noticeably winced at the tumult. Yatom told Perchansky to guide the group to the ridge and reinforce Fliegel, but not to remain there herself. With Feldhandler wounded, they could hardly afford to risk Perchensky, if they were to have any hope of getting home. She agreed, more tired than afraid, and not unhappy to do something vital, even if it meant dodging a few bullets.
Having done what he could to help Fliegel on the right flank, Yatom radioed Ilan on the left. The sniper, who was effectively in command of the hillock across the valley, told Yatom that Sobel had also just arrived with twenty extra men, but Ilan continued, the reinforcements were no longer necessary. The hillock was secure. Then Ilan stopped talking. Fearing he’d lost another man Yatom yelled at the sniper through the handset.