I am sitting by a candle beneath a shuttered window in a city blacked out against aerial attack. There is little intelligible news from the front, and the long hours between news reports are filled with old Palmach songs and coded messages calling reservists to their units.

The dimensions of this war are still unclear, but I fear that the shrill wail of yesterday's siren has shattered our peace for a long time to come. Each of us has already fixed in his mind the moment war broke in to violate our private lives and mock our petty dreams of tomorrow.