Ibrahim Meguid - No One Sleeps in Alexandria

Magd al-Din, quoting the Quran, said, “And when my servants ask you about Me, I am surely near, and I answer the prayers of every supplicant when he calls unto Me…”

Dimyan fell silent and Magd al-Din continued, “Say, 7 have no power to harm or benefit myself except as God wills. ‘ For every nation there is an appointed time. When its time comes, they can neither put it off for an hour nor hasten it.”

“You’re scaring me tonight, Sheikh Magd. I see Mari Girgis every night saving himself from the fire, and now you’re scaring me too. Besides, why won’t you stop staring at my face? What’s in my face? I’ve looked at it in the mirror several times and saw it was pale and yellow. Am I going to die here? We’ve got to run away. If you don’t run away with me in the morning, I’ll go alone. I came back for your sake, but you’re letting me down. Do you know what the telegraph clicks that we heard mean? That was a message for us to leave this place. It couldn’t have been anything else. If that message didn’t come from the Railroad Authority, it must have been from God. Do you have any other explanation? Why don’t you answer me?”

The answer came from a distance, sounds of successive colossal explosions, as if the whole sky was tumbling down to earth, and a vast flash of red lit up the sky. “Oh my God! What’s that, Sheikh Magd?”

There were sounds of thin sharp lengthy screeching, the sound of missiles flying from the ground and falling from the sky. The ground rose and fell under Magd al-Din and Dimyan, so they got up in a panic and moved away from the house, looking at the fire lighting up the night, as the earth shook under their feet.

Rommel had just finished writing a letter to his wife, “Dear Lu, we have some severe shortages and disadvantages, but I took the risk. If our blow is successful, it will determine the outcome of the whole war.”

General Alexander had sent the word ‘zip’ to Churchill from Cairo. Monty was confident about his defense plan. There were four hundred German tanks, half of which were equipped with the diabolical seventy-five-millimeter guns. Awaiting them were seven hundred British and American tanks. Rommel’s usual tactics were to attack the enemy forces quickly with a small force, encircle them, then try to liquidate them. The German planes began their raids on the forces in front and at the rear simultaneously to confuse and disorient them.

“The shelling is far away, Dimyan. Don’t be afraid.”

Dimyan was busy reciting prayers or incantations, of which Magd al-Din would make out only a few words: ‘Kyrie eleison,’ ‘Georgius,’ ‘Jesus,’ ‘Yuannis,’ ‘Yusab,’ ‘Kirullus,’ and ‘the Virgin.’ Dimyan, shaking, made it back to the house, followed by Magd al-Din. As soon as they were there, Dimyan collapsed and stretched out on the floor with his back against the wall. Magd al-Din stretched out near him and lit a cigarette for himself and one for Dimyan, pretending to be composed.

“There’s a lot of light,” he smiled. “I don’t think the Germans will notice a cigarette in the middle of all this shelling.”

They kept smoking is silence. Magd al-Din noticed that neither he nor Dimyan had taken off their work clothes. They even had their shoes on. They had been returning from the station a short time ago when an ammunition train arrived just before the shelling began.

The formations of Royal Tanks and Royal Scotch were defending the Alam al-Halfa plateau against the German armored offensive. The German planes had stopped for a while, but as daylight approached, they returned with a vengeance and started bombing everywhere again. From the north and the east, British and American planes came, and an intense air battle ensued and ended soon. The planes of the Allies went back to their posts in Alexandria and the Delta and to the American aircraft carrier in the Mediterranean. The German and Italian planes went back to their airports in the desert, only to return after a short while in greater numbers, going deep to the rear lines of the Eighth Army, extremely close to the railroad station and the abandoned houses, and to Magd al-Din and Dimyan. A wind swept them off their feet, and they hit the ground hard. A powerful bomb had fallen from the sky, making the air convulse around them and hurling them off their feet. Magd al-Din saw Zahra’s face, which he had almost forgotten, and he heard her scream. He shouted in a hoarse-voice “Dimyan!” but did not hear an answer. Dimyan was some distance away, looking around for Magd al-Din. When Magd al-Din saw him he went over to him.

“Are you all right?” Magd al-Din asked him.

“No.”

“Were you hit?”

“No.”

Magd al-Din understood what Dimyan meant, and he fell silent.

“Does our presence here make any sense any more?” asked Dimyan in despair.

Another shell fell near them, and even though it was not strong enough to knock them off their feet again, Magd al-Dm shouted,

“Come on, Dimyan.”

They found themselves hurrying up near the station between the tracks going cast. From behind they could hear the falling bombs and the airplanes, and they went even faster. When they had moved quite a distance away from the station, they heard a harrowing explosion that shook the air and caused them to lose their balance. They fell on the crossties, and hellish flames lit up the whole world. They realized it was the end. Dimyan remembered his nightmarish vision, and he resigned himself to death. Magd al-Din longed for his son Shawqi, whom he had never even seen. They saw, however, that the flames were far away, and when they were able to see the red sky, they realized that the explosion was at the station. After they regained their balance and could see more clearly, they saw the train that had stopped at the station. All its cars were turning into a river of fire that the German planes kept fueling. They saw the two wooden kiosks — the station-master’s room and the telegraph room— burning and flying in the air and turning into ashes. Everything was turning into ashes. Most merciful God! Eternal, living God, help us! Jesus, Mary, Prophet of God, help us, save us! They started running again.

They kept on running, never feeling hunger or pain from wounds or bruises they had suffered when the explosions threw them to the ground. And what a beautiful new day! This river of milk that was beginning to light up the dark and wash away the night. This world that God has created was so beautiful, why was it that people were destroying it? The planes kept on coming from the east and from the west, engaging in short dogfights, then disappearing only to appear again and again. The German planes bombed everything in sight until a new dogfight started. In the meantime Magd al-Din and Dimyan kept on running, sweat pouring out of every pore of their bodies and their skin and chests burning, their feet almost giving way, but who could stop in the midst of all those fires?

“I am flying, Dimyan!”

Dimyan heard and saw Magd al-Din next to him.

“And I am flying too, Magd al-Din!”

“My God, I am not running — I am flying, Dimyan!”

“And so am I, Magd al-Din!”

What bird was now carrying them on its wings! It must be the angel Gabriel, the very one who brought the good tidings to the Messenger of God. It was he who also brought the Virgin Mary tidings of her immaculate conception. Their breathing was now inaudible, they were almost anesthetized, asleep on calm waves. The bird was carrying them gently into space, their sweat was drying, and they were drinking a magic potion that imbued their veins with a secret delight. Was Gabriel taking them to Alexandria or to God in the high heavens? They were both certain of a safe end.