Epstein Secrets

decade later, the idea would suddenly resurface. In my first meeting, as a newly promoted Major General, with our then Defence Minister Ariel Sharon, Sharon turned to me and the army’s Chief of Staff, Rafael Eitan, and said: “Tell me. Why the hell is Arafat still alive?” He looked first at Raful, then at

eneral, we headed to our setting-off point. Yoffe himself left to join Avraham Arnan and Meir Amit’s intelligence deputy, 67 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_011538 Ahraleh Yariv, in the command post for our mission, atop a hill on the Israeli side of the northern border. The sun set at around seven, but we waited for darknes

7. So during the last, decisive 10 days of the war, I would witness first-hand the tension among our top commanders in the Sinai, especially between Sharon and Gorodish, since Arik wasted few opportunities to suggest, rightly but not always helpfully, that his successor was woefully out of his depth. I w

ied there, in the spring of 1969. My parents and brothers came with two busloads of friends from the kibbutz. Avraham Arnan was there, of course. But Ahraleh Yariv and Eli Zeira, two of the military intelligence heroes of the Six-Day War, also drove up for the wedding, which touched both Nava and me, not to ment

decade later, the idea would suddenly resurface. In my first meeting, as a newly promoted Major General, with our then Defence Minister Ariel Sharon, Sharon turned to me and the army’s Chief of Staff, Rafael Eitan, and said: “Tell me. Why the hell is Arafat still alive?” He looked first at Raful, then at

eneral, we headed to our setting-off point. Yoffe himself left to join Avraham Arnan and Meir Amit's intelligence deputy, 67 HOUSE _OVERSIGHT_027915 Ahraleh Yariv, in the command post for our mission, atop a hill on the Israeli side of the northern border. The sun set at around seven, but we waited for darkness

67. So during the last, decisive 10 days of the war, I would witness first-hand the tension among our top commanders in the Sinai, especially between Sharon and Gorodish, since Arik wasted few opportunities to suggest, rightly but not always helpfully, that his successor was woefully out of his depth. I w

ied there, in the spring of 1969. My parents and brothers came with two busloads of friends from the kibbutz. Avraham Arnan was there, of course. But Ahraleh Yariv and Eli Zeira, two of the military intelligence heroes of the Six-Day War, also drove up for the wedding, which touched both Nava and me, not to ment