Epstein Secrets

elevision. But at the time, very few Israelis even knew who I was, and I felt ’'d done OK. I was surprised, however, when Rabin phoned the next day. “Ehud, I didn’t see it. I was attending some event,” he said. But his wife, Leah, had recorded the program. “I just watched it. I should tell you, I think

my hands — the article accused me of siding with the settlers. If blood was spilled in the weeks and months ahead, the newspaper said, “it will be on Barak’s hands.” Ordinarily, I would have ignored it. But never in my military career had I been similarly attacked on an issue of any importance. I was es

o let the facts get in the way of the “exclusive” it ran in its weekend edition on July 7. Under a banner headline — an undeniably clever Hebrew pun, Ehud Barakh, “Ehud Ran Away” — it accused me of having stood by, paralyzed with shock, when the missiles struck and then, as other officers tended to the wounded

him after Saturday lunch at his home. When I arrived, Rabin got right down to business. “Ehud, you wanted to see me?” he said. “You’ve probably seen Davar,” I replied. “It was a pretty nasty piece. It distorted things.” Yet as he began asking for details, it seemed he had no idea what I was talking abou

elevision. But at the time, very few Israelis even knew who I was, and I felt I'd done OK. I was surprised, however, when Rabin phoned the next day. "Ehud, I didn't see it. I was attending some event," he said. But his wife, Leah, had recorded the program. "I just watched it. I should tell you, I think

my hands - the article accused me of siding with the settlers. If blood was spilled in the weeks and months ahead, the newspaper said, "it will be on Barak's hands." Ordinarily, I would have ignored it. But never in my military career had I been similarly attacked on an issue of any importance. I was esp

o let the facts get in the way of the "exclusive" it ran in its weekend edition on July 7. Under a banner headline - an undeniably clever Hebrew pun, Ehud Barakh, "Ehud Ran Away" - it accused me of having stood by, paralyzed with shock, when the missiles struck and then, as other officers tended to the wounded

him after Saturday lunch at his home. When I arrived, Rabin got right down to business. "Ehud, you wanted to see me?" he said. "You've probably seen Davar," I replied. "It was a pretty nasty piece. It distorted things." Yet as he began asking for details, it seemed he had no idea what I was talking abou

. When she got there, she realized I had gone missing. Retracing her steps, she found me standing in front of a rock in the middle of the dirt path. “Ehud,” she said, “why didn’t you come with us?” I apparently replied: “I’m thinking: which side of the rock should I go around?” Still, important though

luding some from Mishmar Hasharon, descended on them and, armed with clubs and wooden staves, drove them away. I was shocked. I’d seen the photos in Davar le Yeladim celebrating the airlift, with the Yemenis kissing the airport tarmac in relief, gratitude and joy at finding refuge in the new Israeli sta

is with curiosity and trepidation through my halting attempts to read Davar le Yeladim, the weekly children’s edition of the Labour Zionist newspaper Davar. We children felt an additional connection with what was going on. One of our Dror housemates, a boy named Giora Ros, had left the year before when h

. When she got there, she realized I had gone missing. Retracing her steps, she found me standing in front of a rock in the middle of the dirt path. “Ehud,” she said, “why didn’t you come with us?” I apparently replied: “I’m thinking: which side of the rock should I go around?” Still, important though

luding some from Mishmar Hasharon, descended on them and, armed with clubs and wooden staves, drove them away. I was shocked. I’d seen the photos in Davar le Yeladim celebrating the airlift, with the Yemenis kissing the airport tarmac in relief, gratitude and joy at finding refuge in the new Israeli sta

is with curiosity and trepidation through my halting attempts to read Davar le Yeladim, the weekly children’s edition of the Labour Zionist newspaper Davar. We children felt an additional connection with what was going on. One of our Dror housemates, a boy named Giora Ros, had left the year before when h