Epstein Secrets

uld later become the head of Israel’s National Parks Authority. It had a padlocked metal grill on the back which held two jerrycans of gasoline. Yori Cohen, the commander of the back-up team, and I spotted the fuel containers at the same time. We couldn’t help smiling. Yes, we were about to embark on an

worked alongside several dozen Yemeni women who lived a few miles north in a maabarah, a transit settlement which later evolved into a village called Elyakhin. Each morning, the Yemenis arrived in a bus, and they left at the end of their day’s work. I don’t know whether I expected to feel a Gordonian sense

ince their high school days at the Alliance. I had first met Nava Cohen, the woman I would go on to marry, the previous year. It was through another Cohen, though they were not related: Nechemia, my sayeret friend who was killed in the 1967 war. He invited me to Tel Aviv for a party in the spring, on th

, we began collecting air marshals. One in particular raised my confidence. I knew Mordechai Rachamim well from the sayeret. He was a Yemeni Jew from Elyakhin, the moshav near Mishmar Hasharon where Baddura and the other Yemeni workers lived. He was tall, strong and athletic, naturally agile and quick to re

uld later become the head of Israel's National Parks Authority. It had a padlocked metal grill on the back which held two jerrycans of gasoline. Yori Cohen, the commander of the back-up team, and I spotted the fuel containers at the same time. We couldn't help smiling. Yes, we were about to embark on an

worked alongside several dozen Yemeni women who lived a few miles north in a maabarah, a transit settlement which later evolved into a village called Elyakhin. Each morning, the Yemenis arrived in a bus, and they left at the end of their day’s work. I don’t know whether I expected to feel a Gordonian sense

since their high school days at the Alliance. I had first met Nava Cohen, the woman I would go on to marry, the previous year. It was through another Cohen, though they were not related: Nechemia, my sayeret friend who was killed in the 1967 war. He invited me to Tel Aviv for a party in the spring, on th

, we began collecting air marshals. One in particular raised my confidence. I knew Mordechai Rachamim well from the sayeret. He was a Yemeni Jew from Elyakhin, the moshav near Mishmar Hasharon where Baddura and the other Yemeni workers lived. He was tall, strong and athletic, naturally agile and quick to re