Cabin Girls B

Twenty-eight percent true story, the rest is fiction.

The year is 1958. An American passenger ship is docked in the Haifa port and all eight of them are cabin girls who work on it and have gone on a beach vacation. In story A, the girls are told about the previous night and we are already the next day. Anyone who thought that the boy I have just met would go home to the agency bed with the straw mattress is mistaken. An American-made mattress is ten times better. The "Blurit" took on the role of escort for the group and thus, amidst all the commotion, managed to penetrate the guarded and protected Haifa port.

Anyone who thought that was the end of the job does not know and is not familiar with the security system of the Haifa port. There are two options for entering the ship. One is to get past the guard, who is nothing more than an FBI agent. A former Marine and prisoner interrogator whose job is to prevent hostile spies from entering his ship. The second option is to quickly go through a commando course.
And especially on the articles on invading a fortified destination. Since he did not have an entry permit duly signed by the ship's captain, he chose the option of breaching the border and invading the territory of a foreign country. All he had to do was apply the classified material he had memorized and penetrate the interior of the ship.

With Miltrid's cute face before his eyes and her delicate lips between his hands, he ran through his mind all the possibilities before him. Maybe swim to the anchor chain, climb on it and throw a cable with a hook at the end over the deck. Since each ring on the chain was bigger than his head and he didn't have a cable with a hook, he decided to turn to the cabin girl and check the
Her resourcefulness. "There is a small bridge and another entrance for supplies and water, go there without attracting attention and I will open the door from the inside, be careful please!"

He arrived late at the Carmel Beach with only seven girls because the eighth one remained on duty. A broad smile on his face and the gait of a cowboy who galloped across Arizona without dismounting even once. He even did his business while sitting in the saddle on the horse's back. To the reader who shakes his head in mockery and thinks he accidentally stumbled upon the stories of "The Tales of Ali Baba and Eight Cabin Girls from an American Ship," I will point out, for the sake of intellectual honesty, that there is a bundle of black and white photos, admissible in a rabbinical court, that immortalize the story and prove to all skeptics who the real Halberd Keren Krasnati is, who later became chairman of the workers' committee of 'Eggad.'

The sun is high in the sky and our stomachs are starting to tell us. We collected every penny and sent our little one and my father Shemesh with a few coins and a deck of cards to play poker. At any hour, hunters roam the beach looking for easy prey in the form of innocent poker players loaded with coins. Our cute pair take on the gait of innocents who have just learned the secrets of the game of poker and are looking for partners to play with.

We watch from a distance and discover two Carmelites (who live on the Carmel) who have arrived at the beach in some car and a lot of pennies in their pockets. We sit down on the sidelines and let the two win a few easy games, and then the blow comes. An ace from the ear and a queen from the sandals have arranged a blow that will allow us all a royal meal. Five dishes in the form of falafel with five meatballs, a finely chopped Arab vegetable salad, a spoonful of watery tahini, water from the fountain, and we are set until the evening.

I'm skipping the scenes of jealousy between our regular girls and the cabin girls. We all know that in a few hours the ship is sailing away with them and the next time we meet will be, perhaps, at seventy, after they invent some kind of Facebook where we can display and search for the photos. Suppose we find one, then what do we do with eight American cabin girls who are seventy years old and much older, each of whom is loaded with children, grandchildren, maybe great-grandchildren, their chests touching their knees and their bellies full of McDonald's hamburgers and fries. Miltred! If you're reading a translation of this story, contact me.

In 1955, a large ball was held at the US Air Force base in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Five members who knew how to sing were chosen to form a singing group to entertain the partygoers. The name chosen was 'The Del-Vikings.' After great success, they decided to remain as a group and continue recording songs in the doo-wop style.
Which dominated the world of pop music in the US. To this day, there are bands and imitators that continue to perform with the style, fan clubs that often include the press, and of course, shows. I will say much more on the subject.

The new era of 45-speed vinyl records had just begun and record stores had a selection of a few dozen records. The walk from Herzl Street in Haifa to Arlozorov Street was the highlight of my life, where I discovered records. As a young boy, I would kneel down in the store to check out what was new in stock.
The seller was unable to explain how he had come across a record by a completely unknown band, the Vikings. Of course, I bought it immediately. I have been following the duo 'Oferim' since their founding when I visited my friend Shimon Reichstadt, whose older brother was 'Ofer' himself. In their desperate search for new musical material, I offered them the special Vikings record. The loan was a big mistake because the rare record disappeared as if it had never been. I remember songs that appeared on the record and are not available on all the new electronic media.

In the battle of Latrun during the establishment of the state, Rafi Nelson lost his eye. He tried his hand at small-scale organizing and operating clubs that opened and closed. In 1970, he opened the famous village in Taba that adopted the phrase: 'Sex, drugs and rock and roll'. The place served the Israeli bohemia at that time and during one of my visits to the place I suddenly saw standing before my eyes, a watch on a high chair... Abramela Reichstadt, none other than Esther Zeid's partner, who married and changed their name to 'Ofrim'. The duo was successful by any measure.

I turned happily to see an old acquaintance, but Abramela looked at me with glazed eyes as if he had seen a genie let out of a bottle. With great embarrassment I mentioned the lost record and from the stammering of the syllables like those of a wounded partridge I understood that the interview was over before it had begun.