Epstein Secrets

essed as a maintenance crew; or that, in leading an assassination raid in Beirut against the PLO group that had murdered Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics, I was disguised as a woman. Not the most attractive young lady, perhaps, though I did, painfully, pluck my eyelashes, and, with the help of

lani Brigade. In December 1954, a handover mission was organized. Three men from Company A, including one of Meir’s sergeants, joined three from the Golani Brigade. But they didn’t even hold a joint exercise before setting off. There was also a lack of clarity about who was in charge. Though the Golani c

arely two months after the ambush operation in south Lebanon, Black September seized and murdered members of the Israeli team at the 1972 Olympics in Munich. As soon as the news broke on the morning of September 5, I phoned Ahrahle Yariv as head of military intelligence. “You need to send us,” I said. I

office. “Motta just told them that there is a military option,” he said, with a wry smile. Kuti had been a Haganah officer in 1948, in charge of the Golani brigade, head of both the northern and the southern command, and had known Motta for years. “That means we now have to find one.” I had just begun b

essed as a maintenance crew; or that, in leading an assassination raid in Beirut against the PLO group that had murdered Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics, I was disguised as a woman. Not the most attractive young lady, perhaps, though I did, painfully, pluck my eyelashes, and, with the help of

lani Brigade. In December 1954, a handover mission was organized. Three men from Company A, including one of Meir’s sergeants, joined three from the Golani Brigade. But they didn’t even hold a joint exercise before setting off. There was also a lack of clarity about who was in charge. Though the Golani c

arely two months after the ambush operation in south Lebanon, Black September seized and murdered members of the Israeli team at the 1972 Olympics in Munich. As soon as the news broke on the morning of September 5, I phoned Ahrahle Yariv as head of military intelligence. "You need to send us," I said. I t

office. "Motta just told them that there is a military option," he said, with a wry smile. Kuti had been a Haganah officer in 1948, in charge of the Golani brigade, head of both the northern and the southern command, and had known Motta for years. "That means we now have to find one." I had just begun br