Survive and Tell (cont.)

At the end of the course, instead of returning to Israel, I requested to pay for my continued vacation in Paris and this was approved. The Army gave me a ticket from London to Paris, Paris to Tel Aviv. My uncle Zunea had lived in Paris for many years. I had written to him from England and he asked me to visit him on my way home.

I was very excited to meet him. He was waiting for me at Orly Airport. The last time I had seen him was in 1946 when he had been on his way to Israel, and because of a clerk a the Jewish Agency, a bureaucrat, he had been left in France, a citizen without a homeland, lonely and miserable. He lived in a one-room attic apartment in the building in which my Aunt Rosa, his cousin, lived. He worked as an ironer in a laundry. In spite of his profession, a diesel mechanic, he worked in a laundry because, there, they did not ask him for a work permit. I stayed with him on a mattress on the floor. I was reminded of the days in Moghilev, toilets in the hall, etc.

Uncle Zunea was very pleased to see someone from the family. He well remembered my part in surviving the ghetto and his arrival in Bucharest. He was very grateful to my mother who had taken care of him during his darkest hours and saw me, not only me, in the same light he saw my mother. He took me around the beautiful, and one of the most well planned, cities. I had already become accustomed to the size of London and the museums, but I had not seen such splendor there.

During the ten days I spent in Paris, I walked tens of kilometers through gardens and parks, museums and, even, restaurants. We traveled together to Versailles and Fontainebleau. I had always greatly admired Napoleon, but in France I could "sense" him in every corner. I saw his achievements and successes and mourned his failures. The visit to Paris played an important part in shaping my character, perhaps even more than my stay in London. The French culture, even though I was not fully conversant of it, was more familiar to me than the English culture.

We spoke of it at our home and, at school, I learnt French from my teacher, Mrs. Blum. I wanted to stay longer and soak up the beauty and culture of Paris, but I also wanted to return to Israel in order to be at home with Rikva on our first anniversary.

The Establishment of Heavy Antiaircraft Artillery

Biri had returned to Israel two weeks before me. I returned at the end of June in order to celebrate our first anniversary on July 1^st 1955.

Prior to our return, it had been decided that the new battalion would be established in Herzlia. As in the past, when the 885^th squadron was a guest of the 881^st Battalion, we were now the guests of the 882^nd Battalion in Herzlia.

We had been allocated a room in a hut far away from the center of the camp. Rooms in the hut were used as a clinic, synagogue, "Gadna" (cadet corps), etc. Everything was dilapidated and dirty. We sat on wooden benches next to wooden military tables, 1.80 meters long, (Two legs and a board). We began translating the material into Hebrew, drawing up a study plan for the course.

Nobody cleaned our room and, over time, the pile of papers that we threw on the floor grew (unsuccessful draft copies of the translation). Lieutenant Colonel Joel Paran, who had previously studied at the same school, wanted to help us and chose to translate the section on the gun, the automatic feeder. When he entered the room, he did not like what he saw. He never said a word, left the room and, apparently, wanted to give us, the hosting Battalion Commandant and my Battalion Commandant and, perhaps, me, a lesson. He took a broom, bucket and rag from the Regimental Sergeant Major. Lieutenant Colonel Paran, who was the most senior officer at that time in the antiaircraft corps, walked proudly, equipped with the cleaning materials, throughout the camp till he reached our hut, where he began the task of cleaning.

This was the most effective lesson that I had learned in my career. The hosting battalion and my Battalion Commandant were embarrassed that Lieutenant Colonel Paran had to clean the room.

I vowed that I would never allow a situation like this to occur again, regardless of whatever high rank I may achieve. It is much more honorable to do "dirty" work and work in a clean room than to uphold ones pride and work in filth. From my mother I learnt that one should never leave a place untidy, "so that they won't sweep up after you". Lieutenant Colonel Paran's actions were discussed for months later, with many various versions, and were even portrayed in a play at one of the graduation parties.

The first 4 regular officers trained in Israel:
Zlotnic, Weintraub (Einav), Radom, Schreiber (Sdhariv)

Biri and I continued to stay together. We lived in the same room and worked till late at night. We stayed at the base all week and, only on Fridays, used the lorry that had been granted us by the hosting 882 ^nd battalion, to go home. He went to his parents and I went home to my wife and family.

A few months after our return to Israel, the first group of cadets arrived and our mission was to turn them into officers and instructors. The first course dealt with radar and I was the chief instructor. I taught eight hours a day.

There were two women soldiers on this course. One was Rachel Zoglobeck from Naharia and the other, whose name I cannot remember, left quickly after the end of the course. Biri and I were in agreement with regard to the character of the unit and its establishment.

We wanted it to be a unit that excelled in professionalism, discipline, order and treatment of people and between the people themselves.

We worked day and night and did not spare any effort. We enrolled Rosenthal, who was a corporal in the Headquarters Battery and had, in the meantime, been promoted to the rank of sergeant and then we promoted him to rank of Regimental Sergeant Major. We did not want the typical, mustached, intimidating and fear-provoking RSM. We wanted a human being and an educator. He was a RSM that adapted himself to our way of thinking. He saw himself as the father figure of all soldiers, whom he had to both nurture and discipline.

We were happy with our progress and achievements but we had created a problem for ourselves. The neighboring battalion, who were hosting us, did not view us kindly.

We had harmed them. They had to work harder and explain to their soldiers why our soldiers were happy and proud even though they were working hard. The jealousy generated friction between the Battalion Commandants.

There were occasions when the level plummeted very low. Even our dealing with advanced issues, such as radar and computers, made us special. When the Ground Forces wanted to prove to the Chief of Staff and the General Staff that electronics was not only intended for the air force, as assumed by many, we held electronic exhibitions and centralized all that flowed through an electron. But the 883^rd Battalion stole most of the limelight during the years 1956 to 1957. Lt. Gen. Moshe Dayan came to visit us and not the hosting 882^nd Battalion. This tension continued for a long time (and I will tell how it concluded in a later chapter).

Our home in Haifa was being built. Rivka became pregnant after my return from the course in London, and her belly was swelling. We continued to live at her parents' house but decided that our future lay in Tel Aviv, which was at the center of the country.

We sold the apartment even before we had moved in and bought a new apartment at 12 Rembrandt Street, in Tel Aviv.

This is where I should perhaps tell you of my immature and impolite behavior (and economically stupid) towards Joel Paran, which cost us quite a lot of money. When I was on the course in England, I received a letter from Joel with a great offer for buying a house, a real bargain, not far from his home in Zahala. I, who knew Rivka's opinion on "Permanent Army Neighborhoods", answered him by saying that he should not interfere in my private affairs or worry himself about my living accommodations. I made all the mistakes that could possibly have been made and I am sorry for each and every one of them, but the deed was done and one can only learn and refrain from such irresponsible actions in the future. Rivka's objection to live in an "Army Neighborhood" was due to the excessive familiarity, similar to the kibbutz, or, as it was called then "The Why Neighborhood". Why has his daddy got a car and why has her husband…?

The other thing that bothered us at that time was the fact that Zahala was mostly populated by higher ranking, richer army officers with cars, etc.

What a shame, this was a missed opportunity, both financially and socially. The connections that could have developed with neighbors of higher rank would not have hurt me while building my army career.

Anat was born

On one Thursday, in the middle of a lesson I was giving on the subject of radar, Sara Abba, our secretary, ran to the training grounds where I was busy teaching a small team, breathless and excited, shouting from a distance of ten meters, "Sir, you have a daughter, Mazal Tov!" I thanked her and continued with the lesson. Sara's disappointment was great and she burst out crying, offended by my indifference while she, herself, was ready to explode with excitement.

After I finished the lesson I traveled to Haifa where, at the Beter Hospital, I met my eldest daughter, Anat, for the first time. Anat was a healthy and strong baby who weighed in at 4.850 kg on April 5 ^th 1956. Rikva was happy but our parents were even happier. My mother, of course, showed her happiness by crying.

I have already described, that at any event, either sad or happy, my mother would cry and she always had good explanations for this. "I am crying for Devhora'leh, who has no children". "I am crying because my parents did not live to see this", etc. etc. My father was very proud to be a grandfather.

He had waited a long time for this joyous occasion and I, the youngest son, gave him his first grandchild. Yaron, my brother David's son, was born a month later.

As I mentioned, we sold the apartment that had been built for us on the Rosenthal family lot, even before we had moved in. We bought an apartment from the contractor, Greenblatt, at 12 Rembrandt Street in Tel Aviv.

We moved to Tel Aviv and the only furniture we had was an iron bed that had been specially ordered for us and had an excellent spring mattress. There were two and a half rooms in the apartment, a small kitchen, bathroom and two balconies.
A dream home. The street was newly built, unpaved, in a beautiful area. Most of the neighbors were young and they gave us much respect in view of my being an officer. At that time the army had a good name, even in the eyes of the neighbors.

We did not travel very often to Haifa. We usually went at the end of the month because the low salary and high expenses did not leave us much money at the end of the month and I hated to buy at the grocery store on credit.

Rivka's mother came to visit us and always brought gifts and offered to help. We gradually purchased other pieces of furniture, even curtains. Six months after we had moved in we received an electric refrigerator from an "uncle in America". At that time it was impossible to purchase a fridge in Israel. Somebody had to send a present from abroad in order that "Amcor", the local manufacturer, could supply a fridge. Till then, we had used a small ice cabinet, which entailed the bother of purchasing ice, etc. We were very happy and enjoyed everything we bought. We had no complaints and did not feel that we were entitled to receive anything without effort on our part. For me everything was a dream. An entire apartment for two people and a baby, with limitless running hot and cold water, a bath and toilet, a beautiful view and fresh air.

We received a radio as a wedding gift from Rikva's uncle who had moved to America in 1933. This was a Zenith portable radio that could be either from mains or battery operated. I do not think there was any such radio in the whole of Israel at that time. I once went on a trip with my soldiers and took the radio with me. We listened to music all the way and when we reached the vaults in the caves of "Beit Sha'arim", there was great excitement from the fact that for "the first time in over 2000" years a radio had been played in the caves.

One Saturday, a stranger knocked on the door and presented himself as a painter, Nachum Arbel. He explained that he went from house to house, especially to young couples, in order to reveal to them the secret of the evolving Israel culture. He showed us many paintings, originals and copies, lithographs and prints. He explained, with the temperament of an artist, the meaning of each painting and even tried to be sincere and unbiased with regard to his own paintings.

We found ourselves purchasing one of his paintings. That was our first lavish acquisition. We have kept that painting to this day and even though its artistic value is not very high, it is very special to me and the image of the fishing boats in Yaffo has never lost its charm.

Every day, very early in the morning, I went to the corner of Bloch Street and waited for the truck to pick up the permanent army soldiers of the 882 ^nd and 883 ^rd Battalions. The journey was long and winding. A journey that should have taken 15 to 20 minutes, usually took 45 minutes at best. Our work hours began at 8 a.m. but most of the officers who were facing financial difficulties arrived earlier in order to eat a nutritious breakfast. There were certain advantages of traveling on the scheduled ride. It was a meeting of all friends that rarely met during the day. However, the main advantage was the fact that one could leave on time, at a set hour, every day if you were not on duty by roster. The senior officers, who had their own vehicles, stayed later but understood the problems involved in taking everyone home on the truck and did not hold it up, except for exceptional circumstances.

Upon my return home each evening, it was both my duty and pleasure, to bathe Anat and get her prepared for supper before she went to sleep. On Saturdays I loved to take her out on a set route: Rembrandt, Frishman, Dizengoff, Keren Kayemet and back home.

Anat was a beautiful child, with blond hair, a sweet little nose and dimples. She always wore beautiful clothes and looked like a princess. She was also a very clean child. People would stop us to remark on her beauty and her clothes. I often took her to the zoo, which was not far from where we lived. The close proximity was often apparent from the smell and animal noises late at night when all else was quiet.

The “Kadesh” Operation (The Sinai Campaign)

In October 1956, Major David Goren, who had replaced Lieutenant Colonel Joel Paran as Chief AAA Officer at the Air Force HQ and Major Moshe Berman, our Chief of Operations Officer, visited our squadron. They met, behind closed doors, with Biri, our Battalion Commandant. I could hear their raised voices, practically shouting, from the next room. I did not know what they were shouting about.

This was a very unusual situation, because Biri, my Battalion Commandant, was a very quiet, calm and polite person and, throughout our many years of acquaintance, I had never heard him raise his voice.

I was called into the room. He seemed angry and shaken. The others seemed equally angry but they tried to hide the flare-up that had occurred a few minutes earlier.

David Goren asked me, in a quiet voice, how long it would take to deploy a battery in Jonah Camp in Tel Aviv and to bring into effect a full operation. I asked if this would be for exercise purposes or for a full operation. The room fell silent, as if the question had surprised them and, after a period that seemed like ages, David Goren said, "Supposing it was for an alert, which could turn into an operation?"

I answered that if they would supply me with an appropriate tow-truck, I would not need more than 24 to 30 hours. The officers were satisfied with my answer, thanked me and asked me to return to my regular duties. When I left the room and closed the door behind me, the loud conversation resumed.

About an hour later, I was called again to the Battalion Commandant's room. He was alone with a strange look on his face. He was very angry. The friendly, if not fatherly, attitude that I was used to had vanished and was replaced by a cold and hard manner. He said that I had ruined everything that we had been trying to build together and that I had been irresponsible. He asked me to explain how, prior to our completing basic exercises, without practicing battery shooting, I could take upon myself such a heavy mission. I informed him of the plan I was thinking of and how I could overcome various problems as they arose. The Battalion Commandant looked at me, without arguing or pointing out flaws in the plan, expressed doubts with regard to the possibility of executing the plan. He was still of the opinion that we should not halt the practices in order to execute operational deployment. The Headquarter officers were not allowed to divulge any information regarding the secret operation that was due to take place, to the Battalion Commandant. They, themselves, most probably did not know.

The order was given and, in less than 24 hours, I had deployed the battery at Jonah Camp (where the Hilton Tel Aviv Hotel now stands). The deployment was not easy. The Diamond T tank tow-truck could not move on sand. The deployment area was on sand dunes. We had to tow the guns and the radar by rope. We even towed the vehicle by rope. This was my chance to show leadership and to prove what determination and belief can do. When the vehicle got stuck in the sand and I gave the order to tow it by rope, nobody, apart from myself, believed that it was possible to physically do what a heavy tank tow-truck could not.

When the guns and the radar were in place, aimed and connected to the computer that had already been installed in one of the huts in Jonah Camp, I informed the Battalion Commandant and the air force operations that the deployment was complete and, as far as the equipment was concerned, the battery was operational.

I particularly stressed that the operative word was equipment, but that the soldiers had not completed their operational training.

The Battalion Commandant was proud of us, but dissatisfied that we had done something that he had objected to. He was right that we were not ready for operations because we had not yet completed the exercise and had not yet executed battery shooting.

But in any case, the Battalion Commandant was wrong, because we soon found out that something was cooking, which was to turn into the Sinai Campaign. We were later told that Ben-Gurion had been very worried that the Egyptians would bomb Tel-Aviv that was unprotected and open to air attacks. Our air force was still in its early days and unequipped to ensure sufficient protection. Ben-Gurion demanded that the French grant air protection over Tel Aviv and, for this purpose, they sent antiaircraft ships and positioned a fighter squadron at Sirkin Airfield. The role of our battery was to fortify the defense of
Tel Aviv and, not least, to improve the overall feeling of security.

Nobody knew what was gong to occur, if there would be a war, who would participate and against who. The mystery was complete except for those who were in the know. As Battery Commander, I did as much as I could to form a protective battery array and I instructed exercises to fill in the gaps. Everything was done quickly and nobody even thought of shooting in the center of Tel Aviv.

Masses of children who lived on Yarkon Street came to see the heavy guns and the radar and asked to participate in the effort. They were given a chance that made them very happy. They filled thousands of sand bags that were placed around the guns, around the radar and around the hut in which the computer was placed.

The children were happy, we completed the mission in record time and the atmosphere was wonderful. The soldiers, most of them reservists, enjoyed the cooperation of the different generations. The residents of Yarkon Street took the battery under their wing and plied us with goodies. The love and the children's wish to help us soon became something that had to be dealt with great patience and diplomacy.

Lieutenant Colonel Paran, one of the people that I loved best and greatly admires, was studying at the staff college when the preparations for the operations were being executed. When the operation began, he came to visit us and was full of praise for what the battery had achieved. When I tried to enroll him to obtain more sand bags, he told me off for bothering him with trivialities while other soldiers were fighting and losing their lives in the "Mitleh Straits". I thought Joel's remark to be out of place.

Indeed these soldiers were fighting for there lives, but it was also my duty to do everything I could to protect my soldiers should there be a direct air attack on the battery. Despite the fact that he had made me angry and that his remark had upset me, I soon forgave him. I was very fond of Joel Paran. He always shared his thoughts with me and always informed me of any innovations he had come across. He was a man who liked people and a commander who did not need to give orders to ensure that his instructions were executed. He was greatly admired by his commanders and soldiers, as by his friends.

He especially had a high regard for Biri and myself and made great efforts to promote us. He sent us to England and helped us translate the study material from England from English to Hebrew. Before we left for England, he invited us to his home and, together with his wife Aggie, instructed us with regard to the course that he had already taken.

Firing at one of our planes

The war had begun; there was information about operational activities of the British and French forces and the IDF. We maintained routine alert procedures as required during war. We continued to supervise and instruct people of all professions and, especially, the officers. And, just as I was in the hut that was used by the battery command, The Battery Firing Officer, Aspirant Uzi Moreno, announced that the radar had located an unidentified plane about 10 kilometers south of Tel Aviv. I asked the air force control to identify the plane and they answered that there was no Israeli plane in the air at that time. When I asked what to do, they said that I was to act according to "Standing Orders". I immediately gave the order according to the drill "Free fire", left the hut and made my way towards the guns. Aspirant Uzi Moreno (later Lieutenant Colonel Mor, Keren Mor's father) gave the order to open fire. I immediately heard the gunfire and, when I looked towards the explosions, I identified a plane similar to a "Mosquito" that performed evasion maneuvers. I ordered to stop the fire. The guns had shot a total of 7 shells. Some of the shots had been fired through panic. Some had shot only one shell and others had shot 3.

It was a most exciting event that significantly bolstered the unit's morale. The fact that it turned out to be an Israeli plane did not lessen the excitement. The faith in the instruments that had worked well with live fire, instilled confidence in the soldiers and granted us even more admiration from the residents of Yarkon Street, especially the younger ones.

On the third day of the war, Biri, the Battalion Commandant, ordered me to establish a second battery on the Mount Carmel. I was under the impression that he wanted to send me away because of jealousy.

My popularity had grown immensely, especially in the headquarters in view of the event prior to the battery deployment in Tel Aviv. I felt hostility from Biri whom, up to that day, had been my best friend. Biri was not in any danger, but was still upset that I did not take his side and, especially, that it turned out that I was right.

Commander of the Reserves Battalion

After the Sinai Campaign, we returned to routine exercises and instructions. At the beginning of 1957, I was appointed to command two reserves battalions, 945 and 935, and transition reserves battalion 949 of the antiaircraft array. The offices and emergency storeroom were at the "Sirkin" camp and I replaced Menahem Giladi. The job entailed contact with the soldiers, organizing guard duties and executing a series of battery exercises.

I was in charge of over one thousand reservists and approximately twenty battery storerooms, including tens of guns. The administrative work was immense and diverse.

In all, the work was hard and not very interesting. For a short period of less than a year, I worked with the reserve units. I traced absentees, organized enlistments and drills via covert procedures, I was in charge of the annual training of all the batteries but mostly, I greatly improved the logistics of the batteries. We established emergency storerooms, and an emergency vehicle array, and we practiced and held drills for some of the batteries. Some of them were sent for operational activities, sometimes guard duty and, sometimes, antiaircraft defense.

I requested to take a year off to study, in order to achieve matriculation, which was essential and vital for academic studies at the Technion. My request was discussed and approved. Up to that time, only officers with the ranks of Lieutenant Colonel or Major were allowed to study. I was one of the first Captains allowed to study. The studies were due to begin on January 1^st 1958 and, for the meantime, I was appointed to command a number of reserves antiaircraft battalions and a transition reserves unit.

Studying for Matriculation

I continued to badger them to let me study for matriculation. At that time, it was customary to send officers to complete their matriculation, but priority was given to those with rank of Major. I was way down on the list. But my stubbornness and my reputation did indeed help and I was the first Captain to be sent to study for a whole year by the army. At the end of 1957, I received authorization and, in January, after I had transferred the unit to the capable hands of Motkeh Bar-Mor, I began my studies.

The studies were held at the "Gretz" school, in Gretz Street, a little street parallel to Dizengoff Street in Tel Aviv. There were a total of 12 students in our class, including Lieutenant Colonel Yitzhak Hofi, Lieutenant Colonel Shlomo Elton, Lieutenant Colonel Yehuda Naot, Lieutenant Colonel Zerubavel, Lieutenant Colonel Asher Torpaz, Major Shimshon Eden and others.

The teachers were excellent and put their heart and soul into teaching, as did the graduates and those in charge who came to study of their own free will, keeping in mind the importance of study and the privilege they had received from the army that had allowed them to do so.

One of the teachers was Miriam Flaks, who went out of her way to teach us the basics of the English language. Ms. Felix, a spinster from the USA, used advanced methods of teaching, including holding classes at her home in order to study in a pleasant atmosphere. The teacher of Hebrew grammar, Mr. Gross, did wonders. He was so successful in teaching this group of adults the most unpopular of subjects, that not one of the groups received a grade lower than 9. But most of all, we loved the lectures given by Dan Miron on the subject of Hebrew literature and bible.

I remember Mr. Gross, the grammar teacher, who made our lessons so enjoyable and banished our fear and hate of grammar. The math's teacher, Mr. Asher Kasher, who bolstered our confidence, but worked us really hard. Above all, a special commendation goes to the teacher of bible studies and Hebrew literature, the young soldier, Dan Miron. Dan Miron taught us to love the bible and literature. He passed on the material on two levels. One was to prepare for exams, which we performed mechanically and the other was educational, which we learnt with great enthusiasm.

The studies were, for me, an experience that lasted for one whole year. This is the time where I settled into the country that I had fought for. This was a year of clarity of thought and for filling gaps in essential knowledge in subjects such as history, the history of the country, Hebrew and English, math, grammar and literature. For the first time, I was exposed to a group of high-ranking officers from other corps.

Hackah, later on General Hofi, one of the senior paratroopers, participated in all the retaliation operations and in "Kadesh". Lieutenant Colonel Zerubavel (Bavli), an intelligence officer in the northern command, was full of stories and anecdotes. Major Meir Shefer, a pilot born in Hungary, who, on one of the nights prior to the exam, told us about his dreadful experiences in the Holocaust. He had participated in the death march in Hungary and he later became a "Muzelman" at the extermination camp Auschwitz, where he was located, and rescued at the end of the war. During that year, I studied intensely for exams and experienced many experiences of different kinds. I felt wonderful and when I received my exam results and the blessing of the Chief Education Officer with regard to my success in the exams, I was elated and full of gratitude to the IDF and its officers that had granted me such a wonderful gift. My family, parents, Rivka's parents, my brother and, especially my sister, were very proud of me but I was the proudest. I wanted to use the momentum of study higher education. I asked to be sent to study electrical engineering at the Technion. The reply I received was "Your request has not been approved because you are 28 years old and that is beyond the maximum age for study".

Back to Battalion 883

I returned to the 883 ^rd battalion, this time as Deputy Battalion Commandant. The battalion did not have a Battalion Commandant, so I was the most senior officer and acting commander. Maybe there was someone with the rank of major holding the Battalion Commandant appointment. (This was what they did in order to overcome the lack of senior positions). They did not want to appoint me Battalion Commandant or give me the rank of Major, because they kept things running according to a certain kind of order in the Artillery Corps. Of course, it could be that, in their opinion, I was not yet ready to command a battalion.

The struggle to execute exercises with battery fire

The battalion had two reserves batteries and a limited regular team, whose duty was to maintain the equipment, uphold emergency storerooms, professional drills and to train limited regular reinforcement.

The radars continued to be an attraction for visitors and so was the computer. I was bothered by the fact that each battery drill was performed without battery fire. Except for shooting in the Sinai Campaign, no integrated shooting with the computer had been executed. We had only shot from the guns and only that particular gunner gained practice, which did not satisfy me. I began the struggle to install a third computer in the coach. I found a coach but the officers of the ordnance corps vehemently objected, claiming that it would not be able to move safely on the roads.

After I had practically given up this idea, I approached the recently appointed Chief AAA Officer Lieutenant Colonel Aaron (Shpak) Dagan who had been transferred from the field artillery units. He was a bragger, who claimed that there was no obstacle that could not be overcome. I challenged him. I asked him to obtain permission to execute battery shooting from the Jonah Camp, from where we had fired during the Sinai Campaign and where all the equipment was located and, mainly, the water-cooled computer. Araleh Shpak asked me to detail all the problems that had to be solved, to prepare standing orders for operations and security and safety instructions and he would go to the HQ Central Command to obtain authorization.

That evening, I wrote 10 pages, including all the information that Araleh had requested. He set a meeting with me at the "Niza" coffee house in Allenby Street in Tel Aviv, opposite the "Mograbi" cinema. I handed him what I had written. He pulled out an impressive fountain pen and began to correct the wording and asked me to rewrite it. I made it clear to him that I did not accept his corrections, because they altered the drill and the security guidelines.

After a very difficult discussion, which stemmed from the pride of a senior officer who had hastily made unprofessional remarks that had only dealt with semantics, he retracted from the corrections.

To my surprise and the astonishment of all the command officers that had warned me against this move I was making, he received authorization from the HQ Central Command. During wartime, it is easier to receive authorizations, however strange. But, during peacetime, when there is no tension, it is not a simple thing to execute shooting in the middle of the city because, after the Sinai Campaign, things were quite quiet. Araleh Shpak, now Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Dagan, had achieved the impossible. He justified his statements and, perhaps, his belief that that there are no obstacles that cannot be overcome. This deed, which could be referred to as daring or stupid, taught me another chapter on the power of perseverance; if someone believes in his mission or an idea, he must fight for it.

This was a small lesson that taught me much. In my opinion, Aaron Dagan, who was a stranger in the antiaircraft array and had only served there for a short time, influenced the antiaircraft division more than his predecessors, with his willingness and fighting spirit. I only had the chance of working with him for a short period, but I was impressed by the event I have described and from stories I heard from friends about the period when he was Battalion Commandant of the 882^nd Battalion.

According to the standing orders for operations that I had hastily written down, 20 factors had to be coordinated. Announcements had to be delivered to the press and the radio, announcements had to be pasted in Yarkon Street and the surrounding area, we had to go from apartment to apartment to ask that the windows be opened or that sticky paper be placed on them, to coordinate with the fishermen, with just ordinary sailors, with the police force, with the municipality and with many other entities. The preparations and coordination went according to plan. The day arrived and then the actual coordination activities began.

It was essential to make sure that children or other spectators would not enter the area. The reservists were ready and on alert. Many visitors came to see this event; I prepared a special roped-off stage for them so that they would not hinder us. The plane, pulling the target behind it, postponed its arrival a number of times. The soldiers joked that the pilot was scared. The target being pulled by the plane was approx. 2 kilometers behind it, but the plane was supposed to fly a distance of 8 kilometers and at a height of 500 feet. The distance between the angle of the gun and the plane to the target was not especially big. The plane neared, we executed two mock rounds and, on the third turn, we opened fire. The time fuse fired the shells near the target. We executed some more runs and battery fire in order to complete the drill.

The unbelievable and practically impossible had been implemented without a hitch. I breathed a sigh of relief and, even more than me, so did Lieutenant Colonel Shpak. I am not sure that, if I were in his place, I would have taken on such a responsibility, especially as he did not completely understand our system. I had put unfair pressure on him, even though every word I had said had been true.

I had addressed his conscience as a commander and as a soldier whose duty it was to allow the soldiers to train properly and not only via "simulation". I have nothing but respect for Araleh – he was indeed brave. We practiced this very same drill many times afterwards, but without the pressure, apprehension and fear. The battery drills with live fire within the battery framework gave me much satisfaction. I saw this as the realization of my ideas and that proof that if you are determined to do something that you believe in, you will succeed. I am sure that had it been someone else and not Lieutenant Colonel Shpak, Chief AAA Officer, the plan would not have been realized.

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