‘Miracle’ at Entebbe Recalled
It wasn’t just any Fourth of July. It was America’s Bicentennial, the 200th anniversary of the USA. I turned on the radio but couldn’t find any music. Everyone on-air was talking about something spectacular that just happened. One radio DJ described the event as a “miracle.”
The week before, on June 27, an Air France jet was scheduled to fly from Tel Aviv to Paris. The flight never reached its destination. After a brief scheduled stop-over in Athens, the plane was hijacked by the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP). The terrorists first diverted the plane to Benghazi Airport in Libya, and then to their intended destination, the Entebbe Military and International Airport in Uganda.
The jet carried 258 passengers. The PFLP would soon release 152 of them. The remaining 106 were held for political ransom. The PFLP was demanding a prisoner exchange with the State of Israel. The terrorists would release their 106 captives in exchange for 53 Palestinian prisoners held mostly in Israel.
The majority of the hostages were Israeli citizens. They were easy to identify. They flew using their passports as identification. The PFLP used a less precise means to identify their other victims. They merely chose passengers who, in their minds, possessed a “Jewish look” or a “Jewish sounding last name”.
And there was a third group. The 12-member Air France crew who serviced the plane. They showed genuine courage, refusing the PFLP’s offer of clemency. Until all innocent captives were freed, they (as a team) refused to abandon their professional assignments.
If Israel did not give in to their demands, the PFLP threatened to randomly start executing captives. Yitshak Rabin, Israel’s Prime Minister, gave signs that Israel would negotiate. Behind the scenes, however, he and other Knesset leaders had other intentions.
Israel sent a military unit on a special mission. With amazing expertise and precision, the Israel Defense Force (IDF) rescued almost all of the hostages. Only three passengers were killed, as were all seven hijackers. In performing the near perfect rescue operation, IDF troops suffered only a few injuries. There was one casualty. Yonatan Netanyahu, the commando leader (and older brother to Benyamin, Israel’s later prime minister) was the lone fallen soldier.
That evening, my family celebrated America’s Bicentennial. We ate barbecue, watched fireworks, and had birthday cake for dessert. The subject of “Israel” naturally dominated our conversation. Everyone marveled about the heroic act Israel’s army had just performed. Mere words felt inadequate to describe the event. It was hard to disagree with the Seattle radio broadcaster who earlier proclaimed Israel’s rescue operation a “miracle.”
The next day, I watched the network news. I felt pride viewing the reception the hostages and IDF soldiers received returning to Israel. A huge crowd greeted them immediately after they deplaned.
Among the sea of jubilation, the network news focused its coverage on one individual man in the center of a circle of people. He swayed with a Torah scroll in his arms while hundreds sang and danced around him. In the background, one could hear periodic blasts of shofar horns.
A few days later, I traveled down to Camp Solomon Schechter. I had signed up that summer, with a number of friends, to be an Oded, a junior counselor. Together, we participated in the program for the final two sessions of the summer’s three-session encampment.
My brother, Warren, was already there. He was spending his entire summer working in the camp’s kitchen. After we greeted one another, it wasn’t long before we talked about Israel’s amazing rescue operation.
I told him about the celebration I watched on TV from Israel. “It was so great seeing Israel take command of the situation,” I said. “I still can’t believe their army did what they did with so few casualties.
“I will travel to Israel next summer like you did last year,” I continued. “I feel much safer doing that now than I did before.”
Warren then told me what he was doing when he learned about the rescue.
“When I completed my morning routine, I took my usual break before I started preparing for lunch. I was sitting alone at the dock in front of the lake dangling my feet in the water. At the top of the hill, I saw a number of counselors and campers standing around and mingling with one another. They were waiting for the bell to ring, signaling that the next scheduled camp activity was about to begin. All of a sudden, Mylan Tanzer, another camp counselor, appeared. He screamed in exaltation.
“‘You won’t believe what just happened! You won’t believe what just happened! You won’t believe what just happened!’”
“Mylan then told everyone at the top of the hill the news about what just happened. He then danced his way down to me in front of the lake.
“You know how tall Mylan is?” Warren said to me. “You know how steep and uneven the hill at camp is? Mylon’s a good athlete. He played on a state championship basketball team. I still couldn’t believe he maneuvered that incline at the speed he traveled without falling or twisting his ankle.”
Mylan’s euphoria wasn’t surprising. He grew up in Portland, Oregon, but, at an early age, made the decision to make Aliyah. Mylan’s passion and love for Israel and Zionism were no secret.
After camp that summer, Mylan would spend a number of years at the University of Washington earning his undergraduate degree. Then, soon after graduation, he fulfilled his dream and made Israel his home.
Mylan put on quite a show that morning. Not everyone at camp, though, possesses a TV or radio, so many, if not most, wouldn’t find out about “what just had happened” for a number of hours.
Since I wasn’t there, I wanted to know what the rest of that day at camp was like. I spoke with a friend, Beth Huppin, who also served as a Solomon Schechter counselor that summer. She was the one who ultimately informed everyone about the amazing event.
“At the end of tefillah every morning that week,” she told me, “we included a special prayer for the captives who were kidnapped. Everyone at camp knew about the situation. Before lunch, I got the staff together. We quieted everyone in the dining hall down as quickly as we could. We were excited to make the announcement.
“I have the most unbelievable news to share with you today,” Beth said. “The IDF, Israel’s army, has just conducted a military operation. It may have been the most successful rescue of its kind ever performed. Only three out of 106 innocent passengers lost their lives. In the mission, a number of Israeli soldiers were injured, but, from what we know, there was only one casualty.
“The innocent captives, and the soldiers who rescued them, are all now safely back in Israel. … This time, most of our prayers were answered!
“After I spoke, there was a moment of silence. It took a minute for everyone to digest the remarkable news. Then, one girl camper started clapping her hands and singing Am Yisrael Chai-The People of Israel Live!
“Everyone immediately joined in with her. No one remained seated. Spontaneously, we moved tables and chairs and began singing and dancing together. It was the most intense and memorable ruach session. …The celebration only ended when we all got hungry and started eating lunch. … No one complained that their food was cold.”
Elliot Fein is a contributing writer to Jlife Magazine.