Epstein Secrets

Front for the Liberation of Palestine launched an even more audacious operation. It became known by the name of the airport where the ordeal ended. Entebbe. And when it began I, like Uzi Yairi, was sitting at my desk. 164 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_011635 Chapter Ten Sunday is an ordinary working day in Israel,

club on the western edge of Damascus. We would land in transport helicopters a few miles away and unload a pair of armored cars captured in 1967. But Raful’s view prevailed. I could not get the approval of the Airya. I did take heart from Avraham Arnan’s support. He was now Golda Meir’s counter-terrorism

Matkal might be called in, and my instincts told me we should proceed with caution. The situation we were facing felt nothing like Sabena, much less Entebbe. Here, we had a single bus. Our troops, and in fact everyone from ministers and officials to reporters and photographers, were in a loose cordon a co

b’s terms for a wholesale evacuation. By this point, I was spending most of my time in the Airya, with periodic visits north, sometimes with Arik or Raful, to our positions on the eastern, Phalangist-controlled, side of Beirut. On several occasions, I helicoptered back with Habib or his deputy, Morris D

r Front for the Liberation of Palestine launched an even more audacious operation. It became known by the name of the airport where the ordeal ended. Entebbe. And when it began I, like Uzi Yairi, was sitting at my desk. 164 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_028012 Chapter Ten Sunday is an ordinary working day in Israel, an

club on the western edge of Damascus. We would land in transport helicopters a few miles away and unload a pair of armored cars captured in 1967. But Raful's view prevailed. I could not get the approval of the kirya. I did take heart from Avraham Arnan's support. He was now Golda Meir's counter-terrorism

Matkal might be called in, and my instincts told me we should proceed with caution. The situation we were facing felt nothing like Sabena, much less Entebbe. Here, we had a single bus. Our troops, and in fact everyone from ministers and officials to reporters and photographers, were in a loose cordon a co

ib's terms for a wholesale evacuation. By this point, I was spending most of my time in the kirya, with periodic visits north, sometimes with Arik or Raful, to our positions on the eastern, Phalangist-controlled, side of Beirut. On several occasions, I helicoptered back with Habib or his deputy, Morris D