Israelis, with their own concentration camp experience still vividly in mind, have been extremely careful victors. As prisoners still qoured in from three different fronts, the Israelis allowed reporters to talk with whomever they wished in a detention camp south of Haifa.

Athlit is a British-built prison camp which was used to house "illegal immigrants" before the Israelis had won their independence. Today the cam holds some 3000 prisoners from Gaza, Egypt, Jordan and Syria. The 200 wounded prisoners seemed to be receiving whatever aid was available from both Israeli and Egyptian surgeons. Five of the Israeli doctors had just come from Boston where they were being trained--one of them admitted that he was not accustomed to working under such "make-shift" conditions. Even the Egyptians with multiple wounds and covered with sun blisters had been well treated beyond their wildest expectations by the Israelis.

As I stood there, 50 Syrian prisoners sat in the sun waiting to be processed. Many of them had clearly discarded their uniforms and torn their insignias from their clothing; some of those in pajamas and underwear claimed they were civiilans who had been caught in the middle of the battle--the Israeli guards chuckled and pointed to the military markings on their underwear.

First, an Israeli officer explained , everyone here is of military age. Second, he continued, we always find informants to separate the civilians from the soldiers. "We have a few Egyptian prisoners who have been here before in '56. It's like 'old home week' for some," an old Israeli officer said. "Although they may bitch," he continued , "they're damn happy to be out of the shooting and having someone look after them." A severely burned Syrian, his wounds covered with flies, was being carried by other prisoners to the hospital tent. No one seemed to notice.

In another compound, hundreds of the rank and file of the PLA pressed against the barbed-wire and called to reporters; Israeli soldiers sporting sub-machine guns converged on them and forced them back to a white, chalk line several feed from the barb wire. One of the prisoners, their spokesman, held up a piece of paper which he promised would prove that they were refugees on the U.N. payroll and not soldiers. The contract, upon closer examination, had expired on May 31, five days before the battle for Gaza; U Thant's withdrawal had left them in the hole. "We haven't been paid for our work," one of them screamed as I walked away. In the adjacent compound, Egyptian prisoners with a big red "E" painted on their pants and shirts watched skeptically. "We have to keep them separated," a guard explained to me, "otherwise they'd kill each other."

In the officers' quarters, which were kept apart from the lower ranks, an Egyptian Brigadier General (shot through the mouth and jaw) who had been stationed near El Arish