With my Jewish friend I took the opportunity to go to Palestine; we stayed in Haifa in the Hotel Mizpah on Hadar Harcarmel. We did the rounds there and then split up for a while as he had friends in the area, later we went on to Jerusalem staying at the YMCA. On my own I wanted to see a bit of the city and as I was wandering around trying to decide which way to go I was accosted by a self-appointed guide who insisted on showing me the sights. I said, "No -- no -- NO" but I couldn't shake him off, whichever way I turned he was there chatting away and pointing out things that he thought I should see. Actually he spoilt my day and when the tour was over I felt obliged to give him something, he told me his fee and I gave him half; that didn't please him but he might have learned that "no" means "no." I went on to Tel Aviv where I booked in at Toc H, Talbot House; wanting to see as much as possible I parked my belongings on my bed and off I went into town. I don't remember too much of the place, I wasn't there long enough. It was a lovely sunny day and the brilliant whites of the buildings stay in my mind -- and of course the beach. Going back to my room I discovered a letter on my bed, it was addressed to A British soldier, somewhere In Israel and bore at its top right-hand corner what purported to be a facsimile of an Israeli stamp though of course Israel didn't exist at that time. The gist of the message inside was to this effect, "If you are ordered to open fire on Jews, disobey the order." I carried this letter around with me for ages until after I was demobbed when I put it aside with other memorabilia and although I've hunted and hunted it has unfortunately disappeared. After my stay in Tel Aviv I returned to Jerusalem for a few days, looked around again, this time without a guide and got set to go back to Haifa. This was on November 11th 1945 and there had been some Israeli terrorist bombings. The bus company decided to go on strike but I managed to flag down a jeep and hitch a ride all the way. Arriving at Haifa the Military Police stopped me from returning to the Hotel Mizpah as more bombings were expected and I was forced to put up at The Union Jack Club near the waterfront. The accommodation was dormitory style, one floor up and my companions for the night were all Jews, about six of them, members of the British forces. The conversation naturally turned to the unrest in the country and I was given a comprehensive and detailed account of Jewish history and of their aspirations. I was told with some exaggeration of all the famous people in the world who were Jews, some claims I knew to be true, of others I was uncertain but I didn't argue. After three-quarters of an hour of this one said, "we're wasting our breath, he doesn't believe us," and the conversation turned to more innocuous subjects before we drifted off to sleep. The next day I went along to the bus