Concentration camp in Cyprus

... For almost a year, we have been wandering like nomads, from one camp to another, from one country to the next, climbing over mountains, crossing borders to reach our fatherland — the land of Israel. On an old merchant ship, which we named Patria (birthplace), we drew close to Israel’s shores. But our ship contained a breech in its underbelly, which allowed water to rush through. Moreover, we failed to circumvent the British coast guard. An airplane spotted our ship and soon afterward tugboats pulled us to the port of Haifa. Fol- lowing a long and bitter resistance, we were beaten and tear-gassed to transfer to another boat, which took us to Cyprus. Now we are in a concentration camp behind two rows of barbed-wire fences, under continuous watch by British soldiers. What awaits us in Cyprus 1s life without freedom. ...