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A Diary from Hell Avi Weiss was taken prisoner during the Egyptian attack on the Suez Canal, on October 21, 1973. The following three weeks were ’simply hell,’ the detailed description of which he gives in Bashevi Hamitzri be-Milhemet Yom Hakippurim (’A Prisoner of Egypt in the Yom Kippur War’), recently published by the Ministry of Defense. Weiss first wrote this terse account when he was in the hospital, recuperating from the injuries he had sustained in prison, while his impressions were still fresh. He was able to retrieve the events of his captivity literally day by day, later checking the accuracy of his memories against an official inquiry conducted by the IDF. It makes for harrowing reading. Weiss, a resident of Haifa, was 23 during the Yom Kippur War. At the time he was studying at the Technion while training to become a police officer. A tank gunner in the reserves, he received an order on the first day of the war to join his unit in the Sinai. Over the next two weeks he took part in fierce battles which ended only when his tank was disabled by enemy fire. Faced with approaching Egyptian columns, Weiss and eight other tank soldiers tried to reach safety by infiltrating back to the Israeli lines, but were unsuccessful. ’The Egyptian soldiers ordered us [prisoners] to keep close to one another, yelling like mad and firing on the ground between our feet,’ writes Weiss. The Egyptians obviously were loath to take wounded prisoners. Weiss writes of seeing a comrade, his leg broken, crying out for help. A short volley of Egyptian gunfire ends his appeals. ’We were ordered to run on the sand. Then to stop and take out everything from our pockets. The Egyptians took everything they could lay their hands on — money, eyeglasses, photographs. Impatiently, they tore watches from wrist bands. Then came the order to undress. And suddenly, the order to run again. Some of our boys were dressed only in flak jackets. ’I became indifferent to what was happening to me. It was destiny, I had no power over events. One of our boys who understands Arabic shouted: ’They want to kill us!’ A rifle squad was indeed forming near us. Desperate thoughts on how my parents and [girlfriend] Shosh will suffer. I’ll feel nothing… But suddenly a tank appeared, an Egyptian officer alighted, brandishing a pistol he ordered his soldiers to disperse. Was I saved? ’We were tied to a long rope, the nine of us. Put on a truck. A high-ranking Egyptian officer instructed his soldiers to take us to Cairo. Minutes later the engine stopped. Israeli artillery was shelling the area we were in. Closer and closer with each round. To be killed by an Israeli shell! What a depressing thought. ’Dinner consisted of some water and Russian-made biscuits. Put on a lorry again. We stood while Egyptian guards sat, with orders to shoot ’If you make trouble,’ we are warned by an officer speaking perfect English. ’At every stop local hordes jumped on, shouting, hitting, searching in our pockets. After passing Ismailiya we were allowed to step down. I fainted, was thrown on the floor of the vehicle, and then revived by pails of water. We stopped near a large building, apparently headquarters of some sort. ’I stepped off the truck and was hit on the back with a powerful blow from the butt of a rifle. Pushed into a small room full of Egyptian officers, who all hit us with the butt of their pistols while one of them made a list of the prisoners. Hands tied behind the back with telephone wires, the pain atrocious. Day and night merged into one long suffering. ’Again pushed onto a truck. Again hit on the face. My nose bled. Every time the blood congealed a soldier renewed the flow by hitting the face with a rifle butt, or a magazine. Egyptian soldiers extinguished their cigarettes on my face. A neighbor murmured: Don’t break, don’t break. There was worse ahead. ’A day or two later, in another place. There was nowhere to urinate. We released our fill on the floor in a stinking, wet room. Appeals to be led to the toilet are answered with the slash of a whip. ’Again I fainted. Passing soldiers raised me from the floor. They just poured water on my face, I licked what reached my mouth. Wished I were dead. Lay on the floor and did not react to unceasing blows. ’I heard wild shrieks from other cells. An [Egyptian] soldier took me to bathroom, filthy. The sink full of murky water, but I drank it. ’Put on a truck again. Stopped outside a five-story building, probably Cairo prison. No water. Felt I was going mad. Drank urine. ’A semblance of normality when transferred to a prison lock-up in Abassiya, near Cairo. Ten in a room. The beatings diminish. Assumed the Red Cross was about to visit. But no. Taken to the office of the prison head, asked if I was prepared to appear on television. Refused. ’Interrogations are held in a sort of classroom. Prisoners given a letter, in poorly written Hebrew, warning them to answer questions fully if they wished to see their dear ones. One investigator spoke about Israeli agriculture. Was obviously a university graduate. Discussed with a prisoner how much a dunam yielded of cotton. An officer who spoke good English said we should be glad we had been taken prisoner by the Egyptians.’ On November 16, Weiss was released, with most of the others in his group. The prisoners were asked to sign a declaration stating that they had been treated well, according to the regulations set forth in the Geneva Convention. Nobody refused to sign.
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