The murky mystery of a Haifa family portrait

A few years ago my sister found among our late mother’s papers a photograph of a Middle Eastern family, which bore an inscription in Arabic on the reverse. We knew that our father had spent some time in Palestine, so I asked her to send me a scan, and I decided to investigate.

 

My father, Douglas (“Doug”) Jacobs, was born in 1912 in Grundisburgh, a small Suffolk village near Ipswich, the largest town in the county. Doug was awarded a scholarship to Woodbridge School, a prestigious public (for my American friends, this means private) school. So , like his two brothers (George and Leslie) who also won scholarships, he received an education superior to that available in the village school. Their education, and a general move from the land to towns and cities, was a ticket to a life very different from that of the farmworkers of Grundisburgh. George worked in the insurance business in Cambridge, Leslie in local government in Preston, Lancashire. My father travelled the shorter distance to Ipswich, where he worked for the local Cooperative Society as a shop assistant and, later, as a warehouse manager.

 

Warrant Officer First Class Douglas Jacobs, c.1945

As the country prepared for war Doug decided to volunteer for the Royal Ordnance Corps, where he managed supplies of ammunition and other supplies for the fighting troops. When war broke out he was sent to the Loire Valley, only to be evacuated from St. Nazaire on 17 June 1940 on board a butter boat. He was then sent to the estate of the Marquis of Aylesbury in Wiltshire to train for operations in the Middle East.

I knew from the little he told me that Doug spent some time in Palestine, where he learned Arabic, needed to manage his workforce of Arab and Jewish workers. He witnessed at first hand the tensions that would later result in what Palestinians call the nakba (“catastrophe”), whose consequences Israelis and Palestinians live with to this day. He told me once that he had been urged more than once to sack his Arab workers, but had refused to do so. In addition to his military duties, Doug acquired an orange grove to supply fruit to British soldiers. He also supplied oranges to the officers’ mess, but the officers were required to pay for their fruit.

Life in Palestine was  hard. A fellow soldier committed suicide and Doug was sick several times, once with desert sores, a very painful condition. However, Doug enjoyed organizing things and was evidently good at his job. He was promoted four times, eventually to Warrant Officer First Class in 1945. He was twice “mentioned in despatches”, and awarded the oak leaf decoration as a result.

 

Anis Abou Ziad and his family, March 1942

The photo that my sister had found was clearly connected to Doug’s time in Palestine. The only English element of the inscription on the reverse reads: “Anis Abou Ziad. Wife. Fuad. George. Georgetta.” For some reason one of the four children is not named. My best man was an Arabic specialist and kindly translated the Arabic for me: "Memento of the sincere love and friendship of my good friend Alustan Jacob with his esteemed family.  Anis Ilyas Bou Zayd. Overseer of the Wadi al-Qarar station.  March 1942.” The family are elegantly dressed. Anis, the patriarch, stands firmly upright, a look of proud authority on his face. He has the air of a man with an important place in society. His wife, on the other hand, seems to betray slight nerves. The eldest son has a somewhat quizzical expression.

 

The inscription on the reverse of the photo

Anis clearly valued his relationship with my father. But there was much that the photograph did not tell me. What was Anis overseer of? Why was he working with my father? He identified the family members in English, but wrote the rest of the inscription in Arabic, perhaps indicating that he knew my father could read and understand it.

My work took me to many university campuses in the USA. If there was a Middle Eastern Studies department on campus, I would visit and ask a professor if she/he knew where Wadi al-Qarar is. Invariably, the professor would volunteer to research the place name, but equally invariably would report that the place could not be found. After a while I gave up.

 

Later, I commissioned a book from a great historian of Islam, Carole Hillenbrand. I showed Carole the photo and she sent it to a Palestinian friend at Cambridge. He replied that he was confident that the family were Palestinian Christians, because the un-named “Wife” was wearing clothes identical to those of his own family of the time. He also pointed out that embossed on the photo at bottom left is: C. Sawides, photo, Haifa. Thus, it was taken in a city that is now in Israel, but which in 1942 was Palestinian.

 

The junction at Wadi Sarar station

I continued to be frustrated that I could not locate Wadi al-Qarar. Then I had a breakthrough. Two years ago, we were dealing with the Palestinian mission in London concerning the donation of a painting by Jan’s father. I mentioned the Wadi al-Qarar mystery. The consul asked to see the image and inscription. He told me that the station was, in fact, Wadi Sarar station, also known as Junction station. A wadi is a dry riverbed.

 

Wadi Sarar Station

I discovered that, since the early 20^th-century, the Jaffa to Jerusalem line of Palestine Railways had run along the Wadi al-Sarar. Wadi Sarar station was the fourth stop after leaving Jerusalem. In 1941 the Royal Engineers built an Ammunition Depot sidings there. This track was 10.8km. long. Its construction involved 16,848 man hours of platelaying. According to a study of the Palestine Railways  1945-1948, Wadi Sarar was considered a major depot. The scale of the Royal Engineers' work would seem to confirm that this was an important supply depot. Presumably the depot kept Doug Jacobs and Anis Abou Ziad pretty busy. Their responsibilities probably made them important men.

 

Douglas Jacobs (back row, centre), Palestine, c.1942. Judging by the shadows, this was taken when the sun was at its highest, but several of the men were wearing sweaters, so this may not have been a hot day. One of the Arab workers seems to be a young boy.

My father’s stay in Palestine was brought to an end by preparations for D Day. A few days after the first landings he drove a truck off a landing craft at Caen. He finished the war in Belgium.

 

Douglas Jacobs (back row, centre), Belgium, c.1945

I reflected on the contrast between Wadi al-Sarar and the village green at Grundisburgh, with its oh-so-English church and the Dog pub. Doug Jacobs must have had quite a capacity for endurance. The testimonial in his discharge book in 1945 reads:

 

“A warrant officer whose absolute reliability, foresight and judgement have gained for him the complete confidence both of his officers and of his men. An invaluable man in any high grade supervisory post”

 

This is all I know of the Palestinian episode in my father’s life. I will never know exactly what kind of relationship he had with Anis Abou Ziad, nor whether he met the family of which the overseer was so proud. Nor will “Wife” ever emerge from obscurity to be given her name. 1945 was the end of Doug's military career. He returned to work at the Cooperative Society in Ipswich, and to meet his eldest son, Antony, born while Doug was absent on military duties. What happened to Anis and his family we do not know. It is likely that he lost the position of which he seemed so proud in the nakba of 1948. The photo belongs to a society now lost in a tragic conflict between peoples who claim the same land as their ancestral home.