On the west bank of Lake Tiberias, beside the white flag
Lieutenant Alvarez had been sitting under that white flag for two days and nights.
The bread was finished, and he gave the last piece to the old man waiting for his son.
The old man didn't eat it; he put it in his pocket, saying he'd give it to his son when he came. Alvarez didn't tell him that his son might already be dead. The gunfire in Tiberias City stopped on the afternoon of the second day, not because the Syrians won, but because the Israelis did.
The remnants of the First Division were compressed into a block on the east side of the city. General Fahed was still fighting, but he had fewer and fewer men, less and less ammunition, and less and less hope of survival.
On the morning of the third day, Alvarez was awakened by the sound of explosions. They were not coming from the direction of Tiberias City, but from the north, the direction of Haifa. He stood up and looked at the northern sky.
