by Isser Harel
Kenet didn’t content himself with the achievements he had reported. That evening, at nine-fifteen, he went again to San Fernando. This time he asked David and Hedda Kornfeld to accompany him. His object was to get as close to the house as possible under cover of darkness and to observe what was going on inside. He was afraid that if he drove alone and parked in the vicinity of the house he might arouse the curiosity of passers-by; and if he went by bus he would still attract attention because he was a stranger. However, a young couple sitting in a parked car at the side of a suburban road was by no means a rare sight. Consequently, he decided to go by Jeep and to leave the Kornfelds in it while he crept up to the house.
The house faced the side street – Garibaldi Street – about thirty yards from Route 202. The entire area was crisscrossed by a network of suburban roads, paved to a height of about three feet on account of the severe floods, but the difference in height was not very noticeable since a tangle of plants grew at the edges.
When they arrived it was completely dark. They parked the car at an intersection three corners away from Klement’s house, and Kenet asked the Kornfelds to sit quietly in the car and wait for him.
Kenet was dressed in overalls, the binoculars hung at his hip. Not a glimmer of light showed from the house as he approached. He walked around looking for a window to watch or listen through. Finally he stationed himself fifteen yards from the house, but he soon realized that at this distance, though it was safe, his efforts were being wasted – he could see nothing inside the house and hear nothing from it.
He retraced his steps toward the Jeep, but was amazed to discover that it wasn’t at the intersection where he had left it. Could he have iost his way? He went back and counted the streets. No, he wasn’t mistaken, this was the corner where he’d left the Jeep, yet in the few minutes he’d been away it had disappeared.
Suddenly he caught sight of the Kornfelds standing at the edge of the road, and when he got closer he saw the Jeep lying on its side. David had been trying to turn it around, but in the darkness he didn’t notice the dropoff at the edge of the road, and in a few seconds he and his wife found themselves trapped in the overturned Jeep. Luckily they weren’t hurt, and after a struggle they managed to extricate themselves.
Even when Kenet returned, their combined strength wasn’t enough to right the Jeep on its wheels. It was obvious they’d have to call for help. Kenet was afraid to leave any of the party at the scene, lest a casual passer-by notice a stranger involved in an accident and report it. The news might reach the ears of the Klement family.
The three of them set off on foot along Route 202 in the direction of San Fernando. When they had been walking for half an hour a bus came along, so they stopped it and traveled to the town. From there they telephoned Lubinsky and Primo and asked them please to come to San Fernando immediately in a car with a tow-chain.
When the two of them turned up, after what seemed to the others an endless wait, they all went to the scene of the accident, but to their dismay they saw that someone had already been there – one of the Jeep’s wheels were gone. The spare was, of course, very difficult to get at, but they finally reached it. Then they discovered that the thief had taken the nuts as well, and they had to ‘borrow’ a nut from each of the other three wheels in order to put on the fourth one.
At long last they succeeded in setting the car right side up. In his fluent Spanish Lubinsky told curious onlookers that a drunk had crowded the Jeep off the road. To their relief, nobody came out of Klement’s house – it was still dark. (They found out later that the accident hadn’t caused much comment in the neighborhood and that the Klements never did hear of it.)
It was after midnight before they could get moving. As Kenet began driving he noticed that there was barely enough gas to get them to the service station in San Fernando; then he saw oil dripping inside the car, and by the time they were back in Buenos Aires he was stained with oil from head to foot.
Early the next day he took the Jeep in for a thorough cleaning – and a new spare.
This was March 21, Vera and Adolf Eichmann’s silver wedding anniversary. That evening Kenet drove alone to San Fernando. Passing the house at nine-thirty, he saw a faint light flickering in one of the rooms. When he went past again about fifteen minutes later the house was already blacked out.
On March 22, at about six forty-five, he drove past the place again. The woman and the boy were in the yard, wearing nice clothes, quite unlike their customary slipshod way of dressing. A few minutes later he saw the woman sitting on the porch.
Kenet decided he was overdoing his surveillances, and such activities could be resumed only if he could get trained reinforcements from Israel.
At the same time he set himself several goals before his departure for Israel: to photograph the house, its vicinity, and its surroundings from all angles; to go all out to get a good photograph of Klement; to find out where Klement worked; and to examine the population register once again to make sure that Klement wasn’t legally registered.
The morning of March 23 he met with Lubinsky, who brought him the investigation bureau’s detailed report on Nicolas Eichmann and his brother Horst Adolf Eichmann. He also brought the 1951 and 1952 telephone directories for Buenos Aires. They looked in vain for Klement.
Lubinsky also had the results of the inquiry about C.A.P.R.I. In the 1959 Tucumán telephone directory, ‘C.A.P.R.I., Proyectosy Traliz Ind.’ (Company for Real Estate Projects), was listed, but the bureau said that there was not now, and had never been, any such company at the address given in the directory.
At six-thirty that evening Kenet again reconnoitered in the neighborhood of Klement’s house and he saw the man working in the small storeroom in the yard. A few minutes later he tried photographing him but drew a blank.
The next three days were devoted to resting, touring the city and getting to know it better, and trying to rent a passenger car. He couldn’t get the sort of car he wanted, so – Hobson’s choice – he took a Jeep again, but this time of a different color.
March 27 found Kenet once more roaming the San Fernando area. Driving through Tigre, he found a pathway to the Reconquista river, across an open field about half a mile from the house, and he thought this would be a good safe spot for an observation post. The next time he went past the house he saw a man and the young fellow working in the garden, and he snapped them from the moving car.
The next morning he and Primo arrived at eight o’clock in a pouring rain. Primo stationed himself at the bus stop, while Kenet sat in the Jeep about half a mile from the house. They didn’t see any of the family, and after half an hour left.
Three days later Kenet drove to San Fernando and photographed the house from various angles. He then clambered up the railway embankment and photographed the entire area from there. At six-fifty in the evening he was passing the house when he saw the man in the yard. He came back after dark, left the car about five hundred yards away, and proceeded to the house on foot. He made a fairly wide circle around the place. At the west side, the side facing the railway line, he found an open shutter and a lighted window. He went close enough to the window to see the man standing in the room, which was lit by a kerosene lamp. In contrast to its neglected outside appearance, the house looked clean and well kept inside.
On April 3 Kenet rented a truck covered with a tarpaulin (naturally not the one he had used before) and asked Primo to meet him in the morning. He wanted to make one last effort to get a close-up photograph of their man, and it was evident that only a person who spoke fluent Spanish could get near enough to do so. He thought Sunday would be the only day they could be sure of finding Klement at home. He showed Primo how to use the briefcase camera and taped the shutter in place so that Primo had nothing to do but press the button, which he practiced a few times to make sure he had the knack.
David Kornfeld drove the truck to the target area. They stopped under the bridge at San Fernando, and Kenet lay down in the back and focused his binoc
ulars on the house through the hole in the tarpaulin. The other two pretended to be tinkering with the motor. When Kenet saw Klement walk from the house to the storeroom in the yard he signaled to Primo, who started toward the house carrying the briefcase camera.
Kenet had waited for the man to go to the storeroom because he was afraid that if Primo went to the house itself, on whatever pretext, it was almost certain the son rather than the father would come out. However, if the father were alone in the storeroom he couldn’t avoid talking to Primo. Kenet also thought that if Primo went into the garden through the front entrance and then walked straight to the storeroom it would look funny, so they arranged for Primo to cross the field and go in that way.
Kenet and David watched Primo with bated breath, ready to rush to his assistance – if, for instance, the Klements realized he was taking photographs and tried to snatch the briefcase from him. Primo had reached the edge of the plot when Klement and his son Dieter came toward him from the other side. Although Kenet had little hope that such a long-distance shot would be successful, he took a picture of them through his telephoto lens from under the tarpaulin. A minute or two later the man went back to the storeroom. Primo stood and talked to the young fellow, and then went to the cottage next door, where he also stood talking for a few minutes.
In accordance with Kenet’s instructions, he didn’t go back to the truck but made for the road and from there traveled to San Fernando by bus.
Kenet and Kornfeld caught up with Primo at the San Fernando railway station. He told them that he had asked the men if there was a house for sale in the neighborhood – and he had photographed them. They had pointed out the little cottage near their house, which is why Primo had gone there. He had talked to the tenant and said he might be back in a week’s time.
On April 4 Kenet received the long-awaited message from Israel:
In order to obtain a full report for the purpose of planning the operation in detail and determining its various stages, you are requested to return home as soon as possible.
Now, if he had photographs of Klement, Kenet was prepared to return forthwith. But he still didn’t know if they had come out well. Primo had no previous experience in photography; all he knew was what he had learned in that one ten-minute lesson. The conditions under which he had carried out his assignment – in the middle of a conversation with Klement and his son about real estate – were not conducive to success. And Kenet didn’t want to go home without a really good photograph of the man they were convinced was Eichmann. He thought that the decision of whether or not to go ahead with the operation might depend on the quality of Primo’s photographs.
In case the pictures were not adequate and he might have to try again, Kenet decided to have the film developed in Buenos Aires; yet he had to take into account the possibility that the camera shop might print copies and perhaps even enlarge them. There was also the chance – a very remote one, it’s true – that the man might know Klement, and in that case he’d be sure to tell Klement that some stranger had been taking pictures of him.
Eventually Kenet picked a large camera store in the hotel and tourist-shop area. He explained to the owner that the film must be developed quickly as he was making only a very brief stop in Buenos Aires on his way somewhere else. Knowing that it usually took six or seven days to get developed film back, Kenet said he was prepared to pay more if it could be done in a great hurry. The man solemnly assured him that it would be done by the following evening.
From there Kenet went to an airline company to book passage, only to be told that all the planes were full up to the end of May or beginning of June. With a great deal of trouble he managed to get a seat on a plane due to leave for Europe on April 7. When he thought it over he wasn’t really sorry it had turned out that way, because now he had time to try his luck again if the photographs were not a success.
Kenet went to the camera shop at the appointed hour, but he was greeted with profuse apologies that the prints were not ready yet.
‘What prints?’ Kenet asked in dismay. ‘I only asked for the film to be developed.’
‘Oh yes, it’s been developed, but the enlargements aren’t ready.’
‘I didn’t order enlargements. I want the developed film, and I want it immediately’
The shop owner said, As you wish, sir. But I must tell you we don’t do the printing and enlarging here. A photographer who works for us has the film.’
For a moment Kenet was speechless. Then, ‘Give me his address. I’ll go there myself and get the film,’ he said peremptorily. ‘Didn’t I tell you I’ve got to be on my way and I must have the film?’
‘The photographer lives at the other end of town and the place is hard to find. Even a taxi driver wouldn’t be able to find it.’
I think he’s lying – the thought flashed through Kenet’s mind – he’s trying to gain time for some purpose or other. What’s he getting at? Aloud he said, ‘I demand that you telephone your photographer at once, here in my presence, and tell him to take a taxi at my expense and bring the negatives here, whether they’re printed or not.’
Kenet spoke in an agitated mixture of English and Spanish, and the owner of the shop could see that his customer was in a rage. He telephoned immediately, and Kenet – despite his poor knowledge of Spanish – heard him say something about getting a taxi and coming or sending somebody instantly.
It was nearing closing time for the shops. The minutes went by and nobody came. Kenet was becoming more and more convinced that the film wouldn’t arrive in time, but eventually a youngster turned up with a small parcel in his hand.
When Kenet opened the package his anger dissolved: the pictures had succeeded beyond all expectations. He knew at once that they were going to be invaluable as the operation progressed.
Kenet used the intervening days until his departure to gather certain items of information his superiors in Israel had asked for. On April 6 he said good-bye to the Kornfelds, Lubinsky, and Primo. They were also going their various ways, back to their own homes.
The next day Kenet flew to Europe.
I met him on the plane from Paris to Tel Aviv. After exchanging a few words with him, I asked one question: Are you certain he’s the man we want?’
Kenet took a photograph out of his pocket and said, There’s not an iota of doubt.’
10
AS SOON AS I began playing with the idea of capturing Eichmann in Argentina and bringing him to Israel to stand trial I knew that I would have to supervise the operation personally, which meant that I had to be on the spot.
I regarded this action of ours as more difficult operationally and more delicate politically than any our Secret Services had hitherto undertaken, and my presence in Buenos Aires was essential for the complicated problems likely to crop up.
Our main difficulty – the one we had recognized earlier -was the very fact of having to put a task force into action at an enormous distance from home, with no speedy or efficient means of communication, and in circumstances demanding instantaneous decisions. I knew our team would have no local body, Israeli or Jewish, to depend on but would be working alone all the time, faced with three crucial tests: to perform the capture without any mishaps, to keep the prisoner in private custody for a length of time impossible to estimate in advance, and to transfer him in secret to Israel the moment conditions were favorable. At each stage, but especially at the last, the task force could be confronted with problems that only the highest echelons were capable of dealing with authoritatively.
Politically, it was evident that even if the operation was successful there was still the danger of our being charged with having violated the sovereignty of a friendly state; and if any hitch occurred and our intentions were discovered before we reached the operational stage, then decisions would have to be made on the spot at the moment of action, since we would have neither the time nor the means to ask for help or instructions from home.
I could not conceivably place the responsibility
for handling
potential political complications on the shoulders of the commander of the task force. Clearly, I would have to be with the task force, at the scene of action, and stay in Argentina to handle the details of the operation from beginning to end.
At this stage I asked to see the Prime Minister, in order to report the situation to him and ask for his approval for the operation. The meeting took place in his Tel-Aviv office.
David Ben-Gurion emphasised again the great historical and educational importance of trying the war criminal Eichmann by an Israeli court. He saw the trial to be the centrepiece of the operation, and conditioned his approval on having an official judicial report on holding the trial in Israel. I reminded him that we already had such a positive report by the Minister of Justice and the Government Legal Adviser; but he requested me to ask them again and, if they repeated their previous opinion, to go ahead with the operation. I informed him that I would lead the operation personally. He agreed to my arguments.
As I was already busy with the operational preparations I asked Haggai, who participated actively in our recognition doubts, to go instead of me to Jerusalem and get the approval of the Minister of Justice and the Legal Adviser. I could not have found a better person for that task.
Together with Kenet he traveled to Jerusalem and as Kenet showed the operational photos we had of Klement, Haggai explained that the Prime Minister had authorised the operation, on the condition that there would be no doubt whatsoever on the possibility of trying Eichmann in Israel. After a further consultation of the law books and of precedences both the Minister of Justice and the Legal Adviser upheld the legal authority to try a person who was brought to Israel against his will. As was previously agreed, Haggai pledged in my name that if we found out we had made a mistake in recognition, the man would be released at once and compensated accordingly.
Before allowing the preparations to reach an advanced stage, I wanted to do everything I could to verify that the Ricardo Klement whose photograph I had was indeed Adolf Eichmann. As far as age and physique were concerned, there was no discrepancy between what we knew about Eichmann and the data about Klement brought to us by Kenet. For all that, there was still the contingency that Vera Eichmann’s present husband might not be our man, and, bearing in mind the seriousness of the step we were contemplating, I wanted all doubts reduced to the absolute minimum.