Killing the SS

by Bill O'Reilly

  Out of necessity, Israel has a thriving cargo shipping industry. The new nation borders several hostile Arab nations sworn to its destruction. However, Israel also possesses a significant coastline on the Mediterranean Sea. All goods being imported or exported from Israel travel by ship, through the two major ports at Haifa on the Mediterranean and Eilat on the Red Sea. During the early years of Israel’s statehood, Israeli cargo ships were largely responsible for transporting the hundreds of thousands of new Jewish emigrants eager to flee Europe and make a new home in the Promised Land.

  So it is natural that Isser Harel’s first inclination is to smuggle Adolf Eichmann out of Argentina by cargo ship. Discreet inquiries are made to the ZIM Integrated Shipping Services, to see if coincidentally an Israeli ship might be sailing in South American waters during the month of May. Harel believes that diverting such a ship into the port at Buenos Aires would be suitably covert.

  But no Israeli ships are scheduled to be in Argentinean waters. More daunting, such a diversion might go unnoticed to the world at large, but it would set off alarm bells throughout the oceanic cargo shipping industry.

  When Harel inquires about the possibility of hiring a ship especially for the purpose of transporting Eichmann, perhaps disguised as a freighter taking on a load of frozen Argentinean beef, the results are just as discouraging. Such a ship would require at least one month to reach Buenos Aires and waste valuable time by stopping at ports along the way in order not to appear suspicious.

  “I decided that transportation by sea would be too slow and might delay the operation by some vital weeks,” Harel will write. “So I applied myself to a thorough investigation of the possibilities of air transport.”

  Even more than the sea, Israel is a country dependent upon air travel. The day after the nation’s founding in May 1948, its Arab neighbors declared war and blockaded Israeli ports. Israel’s air and ground defense force repelled an invasion, but with access to the Mediterranean cut off, the nation was forced to rely upon aircraft to import the munitions necessary to wage war. Foreign airlines refused to fly into Israel during the hostilities, forcing the fledgling nation to rely completely on their own civil aviation as a means of survival. In this spirit, Israel founded its own airline, El Al, whose name means “to the skies” in Hebrew.

  In addition to regularly scheduled air travel, El Al is often called upon to perform missions of national interest. Operation Magic Carpet secretly transported 49,000 Yemenite Jews into Israel in 1949, while Operation Ezra and Nehemiah in 1951 flew almost 130,000 Iraqi Jews from that nation as part of a broader Jewish exodus from Muslim nations. El Al pilots taking part in these missions, as well as other covert operations, take great pride in their roles. Secretly, they refer to themselves as “the monkey business crews.”1

  However, more than a decade after El Al’s founding, Israeli airplanes are still not in the habit of flying to South America, let alone to a nation that has openly shown sympathy for Adolf Hitler and the Third Reich. El Al can make the journey, having recently purchased two state-of-the-art propeller-driven Bristol Britannia aircraft capable of nonstop transatlantic flight. But El Al’s current routes are restricted to Europe, Turkey, Iran, and New York. Isser Harel, however, is not deterred. He arranges a meeting with airline executives, asking if it would be possible to send a plane to Buenos Aires as a means of showcasing El Al’s transatlantic capability, while pretending to be interested in opening a new route from Tel Aviv.

  The Mossad director’s timing could not be worse: May and June are the start of the tourist season. El Al will lose an extraordinary amount of revenue by loaning the Mossad a plane.

  But fate intervenes. Ironically, it is the nation of Argentina that comes to Harel’s rescue.

  * * *

  From May 18 to May 25, 1810, Buenos Aires was the site of an insurrection that would go down in history as the May Revolution. After hundreds of years of oppression and colonization by Spain, the people of Argentina sought independence. The ruling Spanish naval viceroy was toppled and replaced by a local governing body known as the Primera Junta—the first junta. It would be years before Argentina was truly independent, but that exciting week in May was a turning point in the country’s national history.

  The festivities to celebrate the 150th anniversary of the revolution will begin on May 20, 1960. A wave of patriotism engulfs Argentina. Invitations have gone out to nations around the world to share in the moment. Much to its surprise, Israel is asked to participate. Through contacts within Israel’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Isser Harel learns that his country’s diplomats plan to attend.

  Harel pounces. Carefully, so as not arouse suspicion, he inquires as to whether these diplomats would like to travel by plane.

  They would, indeed. Israel’s Department of Latin American Affairs considers traveling by air to be far more prestigious than a long voyage by ship. One representative even tells Harel that the arrival of an Israeli airplane in Buenos Aires would “enhance the prestige of the state still further, especially in the eyes of the Jewish community in South America.”

  With this knowledge in his grasp, Harel turns once more to El Al.

  The Mossad director asks Mordechai Ben-Ari, the airline’s deputy director, to come to his headquarters. Isser Harel’s true occupation is unknown to most Israelis, but Ben-Ari is an insightful man. The Mossad offices are nondescript and nothing about Harel’s spare suite screams that he is a spy. But Ben-Ari knows that Isser Harel is not in the business of arranging air travel for diplomatic legations. However, Ben-Ari does not voice objections, even when Harel informs him that the flight crew must be entirely of his choosing.

  Mordechai Ben-Ari goes along with Harel’s request, even though Ben-Ari’s stomach is churning about the financial repercussions. El Al is still a young company and has yet to turn a profit. Abruptly altering its timetables and refunding airline tickets is not the best way of doing business. Yet the executive agrees.

  Ben-Ari rises to leave. He gets as far as the door. With his hand resting on the knob, he turns to Harel. Ben-Ari wavers for a moment, a nervous smile crossing his face.

  “Does it have anything to do with Eichmann?” he asks.

  Isser Harel pauses. He is not allowed to confirm or deny such a question. Should the secret get out, the ramifications would be enormous. Harel himself might lose his job for this act of gross incompetence. But he is desperate for the help of Mordechai Ben-Ari and knows full well the burden he is placing on El Al.

  Harel nods.

  12

  MAY 10, 1960

  MOSSAD “SAFE” APARTMENT, BUENOS AIRES

  LATE EVENING

  Adolf Eichmann has less than twenty-four hours of freedom—if all goes well.

  “All honors should go to Zvi Aharoni,” says Isser Harel, starting tonight’s dress rehearsal for tomorrow night’s kidnapping. “Without him we would not be sitting here.”

  Aharoni is shocked—and a little embarrassed. “The Old Man,” as the agents have taken to calling Harel, is not prone to handing out compliments. Aharoni does not look to the right or left in this room filled with his fellow Israeli operatives, preferring to gaze straight forward until this awkward moment passes.

  Harel continues laying out the scenario: The kidnapping will take place as Eichmann steps off bus 203 at 7:40 p.m. A secluded country road offers a better chance of capturing him without incident. Grabbing Eichmann from his home is too much of a liability—not only has the house been designed to keep out intruders, but there is also the potential that Eichmann’s wife or sons might be armed.

  The team will use two cars. One will park on the side of the road with the hood up, as if suffering from engine problems. Its headlights will remain on, shining at oncoming traffic to blind the drivers who might provide eyewitness testimony about the kidnapping.

  The second vehicle will be filled with Israeli agents who will subdue Eichmann as he walks toward home. “At the moment of the snatch,” Zvi Aharoni will later wri
te, “[Eichmann] would only be able to see two of our people: Zvika standing next to the open driver’s window and possibly me as driver … Rafi was to lie down on the floor in the back. As soon as Zvika and Zeev had overpowered Eichmann, [Rafi] would open the back door and help pull our captive inside. We then intended to tie him up and hide him under a blanket. After that, the run to the safe house could begin.”

  The plan is bold, yet has the potential to fail in a hundred different ways. Harel looks around the room at this elite group of operatives. They are all male, a fact that disturbs Harel enough that he is flying a female Mossad agent in from Tel Aviv to pose as a spouse to one of the spies. Harel feels this will attract less attention to the safe house. Yehudith Friedman was told of her assignment just four days ago and was due to arrive tonight. But as an example of how anything that can go wrong, will go wrong during a covert operation, she missed her connecting flight in Spain and will not arrive until tomorrow night—by which time the snatch will have either succeeded or failed.

  Harel has already delayed the kidnapping of Adolf Eichmann by one day, which troubles him greatly. He is a strong believer that once an operation is set to go, even the slightest change in plans can prove costly. A nosy gardener at the Doron safe house, a secluded mansion two hours outside Buenos Aires once intended to hold Eichmann until he could be smuggled onto the El Al flight, makes that sanctuary unusable. So today has been spent transferring the cots, heaters, bedding, cookware, and canned food required for a lengthy stay into the Tira safe house. In a move designed to ensure complete redundancy in the event of problems, the team has rented a total of seven apartments or houses on which they can rely if Tira’s cover is blown. Isser Harel is normally very tightfisted with his operational budget, requiring his agents to stay in modest hotels and eat in inexpensive restaurants. But the Eichmann grab is too important to be done on the cheap.

  One of the two large sedans leased for the abduction suffers a blown transmission and is in the garage for the day. Rather than being disturbed by the vehicle’s problems, the agents are relieved that it happened before the kidnapping. An expensive luxury vehicle broken down on the side of the road would surely attract police attention. This might give Eichmann the chance to cry out for help. At the very least, the police would be sure to look inside the vehicle and ask about the bundle on the backseat floor.

  But it is the exhaustion of his men that concerns Harel most of all. “Operators dare not undertake an action that demands supreme physical and mental exertion without every certainty they are fit to stand up to it,” he will later explain.

  Since their arrival in Buenos Aires two weeks ago, the Operation Eichmann team has worked around the clock, driving enormous distances to shadow Eichmann and canvas prospective escape routes. Their physical fatigue, however, is enhanced by mental anguish. The thrill each man felt upon seeing Adolf Eichmann in the flesh while performing their many reconnaissance missions is now replaced by the fear of failure. Many in the room worry they are just one day away from being arrested and sent to an Argentinean prison. Some wonder if they will ever see Israel again.

  And even if the kidnapping goes off without issue, all of the men know that they won’t be able to relax for at least ten days. The El Al flight that was supposed to arrive in two days has been delayed for a week. Thus, they will be forced to hide Eichmann for a while. A manhunt is sure to take place once police are informed of his kidnapping. Between now and the time their flight clears Argentinean airspace, the already drained team must practice around-the-clock discipline and vigilance.

  “How long do you think we’ll have to sit in prison if we’re caught?” asks one agent.

  “A few good years,” replies Harel.

  Silence fills the room.

  * * *

  As the team puts the final touches on their plan, startling news arrives from Israel. The Mossad is reporting that Dr. Josef Mengele is currently visiting Buenos Aires. Can it be possible for Isser Harel’s agents to capture both Adolf Eichmann and Mengele in one amazing coup? Putting both men on trial in Israel would be an unprecedented triumph for Jewish justice.

  Isser Harel secretly begins planning a second operation.

  * * *

  It is time to catch a war criminal.

  Zvi Aharoni eases the sedan onto the shoulder of the country road. World War II ended fifteen years and four days ago, thus beginning Adolf Eichmann’s long flight from justice. If all goes well tonight, the manhunt for this unrepentant killer will come to an end just moments from now.

  Aharoni and his fellow Mossad agents peer at the bus stop and wait for the 203, which always arrives punctually at 7:40 p.m.

  In the distance, Aharoni sees the second Israeli vehicle parked alongside the road. The Israeli agent wears a suit and tie in his disguise as a foreign diplomat. This cover allows him to explain the expensive car in a section of Buenos Aires not known for its wealth.

  Aharoni turns off the ignition and releases the catch on the front hood. Mossad agents Peter Zvi Malkin and Zeev Karen get out of the vehicle, raise the hood, and bend over the engine, as if fixing it.

  Rafi Eitan, the fourth agent traveling with Aharoni and a member of the “snatch team,” lays low in the backseat, where passing cars cannot see him.

  No one speaks.

  A teenage boy riding past on his bike stops and asks if he can help.

  “Get lost,” Aharoni barks in Spanish.

  The Good Samaritan immediately does as he is told.

  Silence resumes as cars come and go along the road. Night has descended, with a full moon rising. There are no streetlights.

  At 7:42, Eichmann’s bus stops at the small local station. The team tenses for the grab. Peter Malkin will make initial physical contact, distracting the Nazi, then grabbing him. Unwilling to directly touch a man he considers the embodiment of evil, Malkin has chosen to wear gloves on this warm spring evening.

  But as the bus doors open, Eichmann does not step off.

  The team is deflated. To avoid compromising the mission by lingering on-site too long, they have a deadline of 8:00 p.m. If they do not capture Eichmann in that time, they will try again tomorrow night.

  But 8:00 p.m. comes and goes with no sign of the Nazi. Both Mossad vehicles remain in position. “Do we leave or continue to wait?” Aharoni whispers to Rafi Eitan, who is in charge of the physical abduction.

  “We wait.”

  Five minutes pass. Zvi Aharoni lifts a pair of binoculars to his eyes and searches for a sign of Eichmann getting off the next bus.

  As if on cue, the second Mossad vehicle switches on their headlights, clearly illuminating Adolf Eichmann as he steps down and begins his nightly walk home to his family.

  “Watch out for a weapon,” Aharoni whispers to Malkin, still bent low over the engine.

  Eichmann walks toward the car, approaching from behind. Aharoni watches in his rearview mirror. When Eichmann is ten yards behind the sedan, the Israeli starts the car.

  Eichmann passes by Aharoni’s window.

  Peter Malkin stands up from inspecting the engine, blocking Eichmann’s path.

  “Un momentito, señor,” he says in thickly accented Spanish. Peter Malkin is an expert in the martial arts and explosives. Though his family escaped from Europe prior to the war, his sister, her children, and more than one hundred close relatives were murdered in Nazi extermination camps. Thirty-two years old, with dark hair and piercing brown eyes, the handsome Polish-born Malkin will one day be known for his sensitivity as an artist. But tonight, there is none of that on display. He is considered the team’s “strongman,” in Aharoni’s words, and will be as brutal as needed to get the job done.

  Eichmann stops in his tracks. He has stayed late at work for a union meeting and simply wants to get home and enjoy a glass of red wine. But curiosity gets the best of him.

  Believing that the Nazi might have a gun in his pocket, Malkin leaps at him, trying to pin his arms. Eichmann yells out, stepping quickly backward. Aha
roni revs the engine, hoping to drown out Eichmann’s cries. By now Malkin has grabbed the Nazi. The two men are rolling in a ditch off the side of road. Malkin’s gloved hands strain to subdue Eichmann, who is now kicking and screaming.

  Agent Zeev Karen joins the scrum, grabbing at Eichmann’s legs.

  “Help them!” Aharoni screams at Rafi Eitan, who is following orders by remaining out of sight in the backseat. Aharoni will later write that the “well-planned and carefully exercised operation” had become “an unholy mess.” But once Eitan jumps into the ditch to wrestle Adolf Eichmann, the plan gets back on track.

  The Nazi is thrown into the car, whimpering. The exhausted Israeli agents struggle to catch their breath after the intense wrestling match.

  “If you resist you will be shot,” Aharoni yells at Eichmann in German.

  There is no response. Aharoni repeats the threat.

  Again, silence.

  Three minutes pass.

  Then, in perfect German, come the first words the agents will hear Adolf Eichmann speak: “I have already accepted my fate.”1

  13

  MAY 11, 1960

  TIRA SAFE HOUSE, BUENOS AIRES

  9:00 P.M.

  A terrified Adolf Eichmann is led from the garage into the kitchen, his eyes covered with motorcycle goggles. His body is tense as members of the abduction team support him on both sides. Unable to control his actions, Eichmann opens and closes his fists as if in spasm.

  Eichmann suspects that it is the Mossad who have taken him prisoner, but he cannot know for sure because the lenses of his goggles are taped over, making it impossible for him to see his captors. The original plan called for Eichmann to be sedated upon his capture, but the team physician thought that too dangerous—a pharmaceutical injection after drinking alcohol or even eating a big meal prior to his kidnapping would not combine well and might sicken or even kill the prisoner. Thus, Eichmann was bound, trussed, and blinded to keep him disoriented. The twenty-five-mile drive from the kidnapping site to this house in the Quilmes region of Buenos Aires has gone without incident; the Nazi has remained silent throughout the journey.