Epstein Secrets

y, and certainly being gay in the armed forces, was a much bigger deal than now. But I still had no doubt at all that this amounted to a witch-hunt. Moshe still said nothing. “I have no idea whether Dan is or is not a homosexual. After knowing him for years, I have no reason at all to believe that he is

ce of chief of staff, and that Moshe Vechetzi’s term had only a year-and-a-half to go. But I didn’t view myself as a serious candidate at this stage. Moshe’s own preference seemed to be either Amir Drori, the head of the northern command during the Lebanon War, or Amnon Lipkin, the veteran paratroop comm

. He, like all of us who had campaigned for him, knew what was at stake for the country. It had been barely six months since Rabin was gunned down in Tel Aviv’s main square, by a fellow Israeli riding a tide of hatred so blinkered that it could paint Yitzhak — who had worked all his life to create, defend and

ctations and rules of kibbutz life. Over the next few years, as co-conspirators more than close friends, I found myself drawn to two of them. Ido and Moshe were 18 months older than me. Though 36 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_011507 Ido was just a few inches over five feet, he was strong and athletic, a star even on

attacks after one of its planes had been hijacked to Algiers in the summer of 1968. It was also the same kind of plane — a Sabena flight, hijacked to Tel Aviv’s Ben-Gurion Airport — which I stormed, before sunrise, four years later with a force of nearly two dozen Matkal commandos. The shooting was over withi

y first year in command. There were two others as well, both related to Moshe Dayan, but with a self- assurance all their own: Uzi Dayan, the son of Moshe’s brother, who had been killed in the 1948 war when Uzi was only months old; and Mookie Betzer, who was married to Uzi’s cousin. I’m not sure which o

the war, he was reassigned as an operational officer in military intelligence in the kirya. He was still at his desk when Fatah terrorists landed on Tel Aviv’s seafront a little before midnight on March 4, 1975. They were spotted by a police patrol, which opened fire. The Fatah men ran from the beach, firing

ctations and rules of kibbutz life. Over the next few years, as co-conspirators more than close friends, I found myself drawn to two of them. Ido and Moshe were 18 months older than me. Though 36 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_027884 Ido was just a few inches over five feet, he was strong and athletic, a star even on

attacks after one of its planes had been hijacked to Algiers in the summer of 1968. It was also the same kind of plane — a Sabena flight, hijacked to Tel Aviv’s Ben-Gurion Airport — which I stormed, before sunrise, four years later with a force of nearly two dozen Matkal commandos. The shooting was over withi