the terrifying. They had dreams of conquering the world.

When he was fourteen Yossi decided to head out for Masada by himself. Jews had concealed that story of courage and suicide for two thousand years. It appeared in just one Jewish book, The Jewish War, by Joseph ben Matityahu, aka Josephus Flavius, the commander of Fortress Gamla, a genius considered a traitor. After he surrendered in order to save his men, he joined the Romans. At the start of clashes with the Arabs in 1920, the fanatical nationalistic dimension was absent, despite the atrocities, but then the saga of Masada was reborn because, after all, a war requires a myth. This was a dark and menacing myth, intoxicating in its simplicity, soaked in dread. The nation needed heroes, andheroes needed a past to latch on to. Courage and sacrifice transposed into moral imperatives rather than mere strategies for survival. The heroes who served that purpose were the heroes of the Bible and the heroes of the revolt against the Romans. In the face of poverty and despair, the educational system offered prepackaged ideas. Masada seemed like a suitable heroic chapter for those born in the land and for Jews come from the ghettos of Eastern Europe. The youth in Palestine had much to overcome, much to reclaim. Intense focus was essential, even if it would later appear horrific and savage: the sanctification of heroic death, of the collective suicide Jews tried to suppress and expunge from all their books.

It took Yossi three long days to cross