Hunting Eichmann

by Neal Bascomb

  "My God, the Brazilians think and talk meters, not feet," a member of the cockpit crew exclaimed as Wedeles continued to fly level with the treetops. The Israelis measured altitude in feet, as was the rule in Europe, the United States, the Middle East, and Africa. If the cloud base had been a hundred feet lower, they would not have made it.

  Ten minutes later, at 7:05 A.M. on May 19, the Britannia landed safely in Recife. The Israelis' troubles were only beginning.

  Tohar wanted to depart as soon as they had refueled and cleaned the plane, an hour at most. To their surprise, when they taxied toward the terminal building, they found a red-carpet reception, including a local band and hundreds of onlookers, waiting for them. Representatives of the local Jewish community cheered their arrival. The airport commander, who was outfitted in a stiffly starched uniform bedecked with medals, welcomed their "overseas strangers to beautiful Brazil."

  After the awkwardly staged reception, the crew and delegation disembarked to stretch their legs and grab a coffee in the airport terminal. A few of them bought souvenirs and fruit from the vendors who lined the airfield's perimeter fence. Half an hour later, when Shaul and his fellow navigator, Gady Hassin, attempted to enter the airport control tower to file their flight plan and collect meteorological reports for the journey to Buenos Aires, they were blocked by a soldier who angrily waved them back, barking, "No passage!" The soldier was undaunted by Shaul's imposing presence—six feet five inches tall, and with piercing, humorless eyes—likely because he was the one armed with a carbine. Hassin went to fetch Tohar, but even the captain's presence achieved nothing. The soldier was clear: "The commandant is asleep. Nobody is to disturb him."

  Tohar feared that the real reason for their flight had been exposed. To avoid attracting undue attention Tohar backed off.

  As the standoff continued, a waiter from the terminal's cafeteria approached. He was in his late twenties and, most likely, a Mossad operative stationed at the airport in case such a situation arose. He spoke briefly with the guard in fluent Portuguese, then told Tohar, "Have patience. I will go into town, and, with any luck, I'll be back within a half hour with a solution." He pedaled away on his bicycle.

  Half an hour later, an elderly man, who was the secretary of the local Jewish community center, entered the airport terminal carrying a leather bag. He approached the soldier and said that he had a message for the commandant. The soldier disappeared with the bag, and the commandant himself appeared a few minutes later. In a bravura performance, he slapped the guard twice in the face, delivering a withering curse, then looked straight at Tohar.

  "Captain," he said, "why didn't you tell me that you wanted to talk?"

  The bribe paid, the Israelis filed their flight plan. Three hours and twenty-five minutes after landing in Recife, the Britannia moved down the runway and lifted gracefully into the sky.

  On the way to the airport to await the arrival of the El Al plane, Shalom and Aharoni saw that the whole of Buenos Aires was bustling in anticipation of the anniversary celebrations. Flags flew from every window, people filled the streets and cafés, and tango music played in the public squares. Soldiers and police were stationed everywhere as well, stopping cars and checking documents. The two Shin Bet agents knew that bringing Eichmann to the airport under these conditions was a huge risk. In case they were searched, their prisoner would need to be incapacitated, and his papers would have to be in perfect order.

  After being delayed by a traffic accident, they reached Ezeiza Airport. They spotted Isser Harel and Yosef Klein among the crowd of people who had come out to see the first Israeli plane land in Argentina. A host of diplomats from the Argentine Foreign Ministry were on hand, along with a military band and a ground crew ready to roll out the red carpet. This sort of welcome was standard for arriving international delegations. Also in the crowd were many Israeli embassy staff members and scores of people from the local Jewish community, including more than one hundred children holding small Israeli flags. All were eager for the Britannia to land.

  But the plane was late. Two hours passed. Klein ran about the airport, anxious to find out what was wrong. He learned that there had been some trouble with the plane receiving clearance to take off in Recife, even though all the clearances had been arranged well in advance. Harel shared Klein's nervousness, but there was nothing either of them could do but wait and hope.

  At last, at 4:05 P.M., three hours later than scheduled, the Britannia descended from the sky and touched down onto the runway with a screech. The waiting band struck up the Israeli national anthem, "Ha-Tikvah" ("The Hope"). Klein followed the plane's approach toward the terminal.

  Eban emerged from the plane to the fervent waving of Israeli flags. He greeted the Argentines and, to the surprise of everyone, delivered a short speech in perfect Spanish. Eban betrayed no sign that his presence was anything other than a diplomatic gesture of goodwill. Standing on the tarmac in front of the plane, Luba Volk enjoyed the moment, proud that her arrangements for the reception had gone smoothly. Then she noticed several men in El Al uniforms whom she did not recognize descend from the plane. As Yehuda Shimoni followed them off the plane, she approached him. After a short greeting, she asked pointedly, "Who are those people?"

  "Best regards to you from General Ben Arzi," Shimoni said, taken aback by her question and avoiding it altogether by bringing up her former boss, the head of El Al. "He asked me to remind you that he's still very much interested in you accepting his offer to return full time."

  Instead of responding to his comment, Volk said, "I had an unpleasant surprise from the Aviation Ministry. I wanted to take a stretcher case, but they refused."

  "You did what?" Shimoni said, shocked.

  "What's the matter with that? It is within my authority as the representative here."

  "I don't know ... This is very bad. Okay, it doesn't matter. You're not involved in what happens from here on in," he said strangely. Seeing her look of bewilderment, he added, "I feel very badly about not being able to tell you what this flight is all about."

  A stewardess from the flight appeared, wanting to speak with Volk. Her conversation with Shimoni ended abruptly, before she could ask him what on earth he was talking about. Distracted by her own conjectures, including one that involved someone using the plane to take Josef Mengele out of Argentina, Volk tried to concentrate on greeting the rest of the crew as they filed into the airport terminal.

  Captain Tohar then debriefed his crew, telling them to enjoy their sightseeing in Buenos Aires but to be back at their hotel by early evening the next day to prepare for departure. Nobody was to be late. Arye Friedman and Mordechai Avivi, the plane's mechanics, thought that they, too, would be able to enjoy Buenos Aires, but Adi Peleg informed them that they were to stay with the airplane overnight in Aerolineas Argentinas's maintenance area. Peleg explained that they needed to maintain a careful watch because some "hostile agencies" might want to sabotage the Britannia.

  Shalom and Aharoni watched all this take place without making their presence known to any of the arriving passengers or crew. They were at the airport to reconnoiter the route to the airport one more time and to ensure that the plane was positioned correctly for the next day. Once this was done, they left for Maoz for a final meeting about the escape operation.

  In a café near the airport's Hotel Internacional, shortly after the plane's arrival, Harel sat down with Tohar and Shimoni. Both men looked exhausted. The captain kept their close call before landing in Recife to himself. Instead, he made it very clear that he was ready to do whatever Harel asked of him or his crew—with one stipulation: he categorically refused to land the plane in Brazil again. The Brazilians were untrustworthy. That was fine with Harel, since he wanted to fly straight from Buenos Aires to Dakar anyway, to avoid any opportunity for the Britannia to be stopped in South America.

  With that settled, Harel outlined the plan, which was to get Eichmann onto the plane disguised in an El Al uniform. He would need the crew to go thro
ugh security with their captive. Tohar and Shimoni thought this was a better idea than smuggling him through in a food cart or diplomatic crate. Shimoni told Harel about the stretcher case that Luba Volk had requested and his fear that this might have raised suspicions, but the Mossad chief discounted that and instructed Shimoni just to make sure that there were no unwanted passengers on the flight. Their only point of disagreement was the departure time. Harel wanted to leave as early as possible the next day, but Tohar argued that the crew needed more rest, given the long flight to Dakar and then Tel Aviv. They were testing the Britannia's limits as it was. The added burden of a tired crew was tempting disaster. Harel acquiesced. They would leave close to midnight on May 20.

  Tohar went straight from the café to the Hotel Internacional to meet with his crew before they headed into the city. He gathered the other two pilots, Wedeles and Azriel Ronen; the navigators, Shaul and Hassin; and the flight engineers, Shimon Blanc, a survivor of the Dachau concentration camp, and Oved Kabiri, together in his suite. This was the team responsible for getting the Britannia safely back to Israel. Tohar thought they deserved to know the purpose of their mission. Except for Wedeles, everyone was astonished by Tohar's explanation, although not everyone in the room knew who Eichmann was. Then he told them that they were going to fly nonstop from Buenos Aires to Dakar and asked his navigators to chart a route and his flight engineers to ensure that the Britannia was capable of the effort. He made it clear that if the reason for their flight was discovered, they might have to take evasive action.

  Sobered and fully briefed as to what they had to do, the crew disbanded.

  On the other side of town, at the safe house Maoz, Harel joined part of the team. Malkin, Tabor, and Medad remained at Tira to guard Eichmann. For once, Harel did not make a grand speech about the historical importance of their mission. He was all business: schedules, documentation, disguises, routes, cars, backup plans, the Mengele search, cleanup, escape plans for those not taking the flight.

  Eitan left early to check on Tira, and the meeting broke up around midnight. Sleep was not on the agenda for any of them.

  In the dark hours of their last night at Tira, Rafi Eitan thought he heard someone moving outside. He ran through the house, alerting the other team members. Tabor hurried to Eichmann's cell and prepared to bundle the prisoner into the hiding space above the room, while others peered out the windows, looking for any movement. One agent searched the front of the house, another the back. It was a false alarm.

  Everyone settled back down, though the mood was still anxious, everyone desperate to be free of their prisoner and back in Israel. No one had a chance to rest; they were all busy either with guard duty, returning the house to its original condition, going over their new identities and documents, or cleaning up—collecting any items (binoculars, tools, passports, clothes, maps, and so on) that needed to be thrown out or destroyed before they left. Throughout the night, Eichmann sat on the edge of his bed, obviously aware that something was about to happen.

  As dawn approached, the team faced the final stage of its mission. Then it would be time for the members to make their escapes.

  25

  ON THE COLD, WINTRY morning of the escape flight, tensions at Tira were sharper than at any other time during the mission. Even as they were preparing for their departure, the team members knew that many things could go wrong once they left the safe house.

  Although there had not been any mention of Eichmann in the newspapers or on the radio, the police or security services might have kept deliberately silent about a search, and it was doubtful that the expatriate Nazi community would announce that it was on a manhunt itself. Beyond the danger of discovery by either of these forces, the team also ran the risk of being stopped by a random patrol, giving Eichmann a chance to indicate that he was being held against his will—even though Dr. Kaplan would have him sedated for the drive to the airport. The sedation itself was a challenge, despite Kaplan's experience as an anesthesiologist. The team also faced the possibility of an accident on Buenos Aires's chaotic roads, or the guards at the airport might prove to be more diligent than usual. And, of course, there were the dangers surrounding the flight.

  By early afternoon, the team had finished most of its preparations and had nothing to do but wait—more time to contemplate what might lie ahead. The safe house was all in order. Malkin had done a test run with his disguise for Eichmann, who once again was afraid that they were getting ready to kill him. The doctor had put him on a strict diet in order to reduce the risk of complications resulting from the sedatives. Everyone had shed his or her old identity for a new one, and Eitan had reviewed the plan for getting Eichmann to the airport that evening.

  Outside Tira, the other operatives were busy with their own responsibilities. Aharoni removed any traces of his presence at the safe house where he had been staying. Then he donned a suit and tie, looking every inch the chauffeur, and flagged a taxi to the Israeli embassy. There Yossef provided him with a new Chevrolet limousine with diplomatic plates in which to bring Eichmann to the airport. He also gave him a new diplomatic passport that identified him as a member at the South American desk of the Israeli Foreign Ministry, and an international driver's license. His days as a German businessman were over. Aharoni left the embassy in the limousine and went to have it thoroughly inspected at a garage. They needed to be extra careful.

  At Maoz, Shalom Dani rushed to finish the last of Eichmann's documents. He even had an official medical certificate from a local hospital stating that he had suffered head trauma in an accident but that he was now cleared to fly. Harel had earlier arranged for a sayan to fake the injury, check in at the hospital, and obtain an authentic release form. Dani easily changed the volunteer's name to Zichroni, Eichmann's alias. Now he was finalizing Zichroni's passport.

  Tabor spent most of the day at the airport. After inspecting the Britannia with the two mechanics, he set about preparing a secret compartment to hide Eichmann in case the plane was searched. He built a hinged false wall in front of one of the lavatories in the first-class cabin. When Tabor was finished, no one would have suspected that there was a bathroom in that part of the plane.

  Avraham Shalom also was spending a fair amount of time at the airport, ensuring that the guards whom he had befriended over the past week had not been shifted to different posts and that they knew he would be coming in and out of the gate throughout the day. He reconnoitered the roads from Tira yet again, finding no new checkpoints along the routes he had chosen. Still, there were scores of security men in the city and around the airport; Shalom was nervous about the drive with Eichmann.

  He shared his concerns with Harel, who had stationed himself at a restaurant in the airport terminal to coordinate the day's activities. Although some police and soldiers took their meals in the large hall, the restaurant was always crowded, the conversation and clanking dishes were deafening, and people were constantly milling in and out of its doors. Harel could stay there for hours, meeting all his operatives for their briefings, without anybody giving him so much as a second glance. Given the plane's scheduled departure at midnight, he was ready for a long day.

  Harel listened to Shalom with understanding. More than any other member of his team, Shalom constantly replayed the scenarios of everything that could go wrong and the backup plans that were in place in the event that something did. These scenarios had kept him awake most nights over the past few weeks.

  Even in these anxious hours before smuggling Eichmann out of the country, with so much on the line, Harel still held out hope of capturing Mengele as well. The newly arrived Mossad men were expecting his call ordering a commando operation the moment the Auschwitz doctor was found.

  It was not to be, however. Harel had sent Meir Lavi, the sayan who had met with him on the night of Eichmann's capture and to whom he had given the message about the typewriter, to attempt to gain entry to the boarding house in Vicente López. Lavi, who pretended to have a package to deliver, failed in
his attempt, but he did manage to reach the tenant on the phone. She did not speak Spanish, and when they switched to English, her accent revealed her to be American, not German.

  Hilel Pooch went to the house a few hours later, wearing overalls and a tool belt. He told the woman that he had been called to fix the water heater. Pooch identified her as an American as well and noted that she acted perfectly at ease, openly offering her name. Although she refused him entry to the house because she had not been informed about any repair call, it was obvious that she was neither German nor hiding anything. Mengele was gone.

  Lavi and Pooch delivered their reports to Harel in the early evening. Harel was very disheartened. He had prayed for a lucky break, but time had run out on them. The hunt for Mengele would have to wait for another day. At 7:30 P.M., Shalom and Aharoni arrived in the smoky, cacophonous restaurant and informed him that the team was ready for the transfer to the airport. Having received confirmation from Klein that the plane and the El Al crew also were ready, Harel gave his operatives the go-ahead.

  Back at Tira, the team prepared for their departure. Those traveling to the airport dressed in El Al uniforms and packed the last of their belongings. After the doctor gave Eichmann a thorough physical examination, Malkin went into his cell to apply his disguise.

  Earlier in the evening, Eichmann had become highly agitated when Aharoni had informed him that they were taking him to Israel that night, cautioning him not to resist. But now he seemed relaxed, re-signed. Malkin dyed Eichmann's hair gray and applied makeup to his face, aging him further by drawing lines on his forehead and around his mouth and shadowing the skin underneath his eyes. He glued a shaggy mustache onto Eichmann's top lip. Then he dressed Eichmann in a crisp white shirt, blue pants, polished shoes, and an El Al cap with a blue Star of David on the front.