Survive and Tell (cont.)

Avraham Adan was the Defense Attaché at our embassy in Washington DC. He was joined by Yossi Lengotsky as Ground and Intelligence Attaché and Aharon (Yallo) Shavit as Air Attaché. There was also Avraham Eilon (Lench) who had been granted a year service abroad to overcome his son's death during the Yom Kippur War.

(I had known Avraham Eilon since the War of Independence when we had served together in one of the "Givati" units. I was serving as anti-tank cannon commander and he was heavy machine-gun "Bezah" commander).

Captain (Navy) Moshe Taback, Naval Attaché, Lt. Col. Uri Ya'ari', "Yallo"'s assistant, and Lt. Col. Dov Eden, my assistant. We all worked together as a family, assisted one another and, in contrary to rumors about the embassies and attaches, there were no intrigues during that first year of activities.

Bren, who I had heard about from others, turned out to be a very charming person. The war, which for him had been a particularly difficult experience, had left him emotionally scarred. He was tense and struggled with himself. He suffered from frequent violent headaches. Outwardly, he acted in a normal, considerate and pleasant manner and gave us freedom to work. He apparently liked me in view of my work and diligence.

I was his deputy when he was away (and I wrote the periodic reports of the department, which in my opinion and to my sorrow, nobody ever read and, if they did, never remarked).

Simcha Dinnits was the Ambassador, Hanan Bar-On was envoy. The rest of the staff were: Moshe Arad (Kalenstein)– information, Zvi Rafiah – Congress, Eitan Bar Zur, Political Advisor, Avi Pazner – Spokesman, Yossi Gal, Office Manager, Eli Efrati – Science Attaché, Eitan Raff – Financial Envoy and other clerks in various administrative positions.

Most of the wives of the aforementioned, including Rikva, worked at the embassy, in bookkeeping, information, or secretarial duties. We were like one big united family - everyone knew everyone else's business – very similar to a kibbutz. We did not want to live on the "kibbutz", so we moved to a house in Silver Spring Md. As soon as I had reached Washington, I had purchased a massive car, in Israeli terms, but fairly regular in America.

It was a Mercury Montengo, automatic, air conditioned, with power steering, a little on the heavy side. Very soon, I was sorry that I had bought it. After Rivka arrived, we drove to a party in honor of the Attaches. We, the new arrivals, came to replace those who were leaving and to receive the newcomers. Because I was not very acquainted with Washington, I asked Dov Eden, my assistant, to drive in front of me and show me the way. It was pouring with rain, but inside the car it was very warm, a combination I was unaware of till then. The air conditioning was working at full power, vision was not very clear and I was worried that I was going to lose sight of Dov's car. I drove right behind him, not very fast.

On a downward slope, at one of the traffic lights, I was sure that Dov would be able to get through, because it was still green, but he decided to stop so as not to lose me.

I was not able to stop the heavy car in time and, perhaps, I was a little nervous. I hit the back of his car and practically wrecked the car I had purchased. There was practically no damage to Dov's car. We got into his car and continued to the party. My car could never be properly fixed after that and it was difficult to sell. Ya'acov Granot was most probably very satisfied that I had screwed up from the beginning.

Rivka had learnt to drive in Israel, but had never taken her test. Perhaps she was afraid of failure. I knew that one could not get by in Washington without a car and that she would be unhappy and I would be the driver of the family. Therefore, I decided that the first thing I would do is buy her a car and get in touch with a driving instructor.

The system worked. She had a marvelous instructor who gave her the confidence she needed and she passed her driving test first time. Her father, who had worked for many years as a bus driver, would most definitely have been proud of her.

We had a very intensive social life in Washington. We met American Jews, for them we represented Israel and they were very attached to the country, even though there were occasions when they criticized us, perhaps justly.

There were also official Embassy events, official meetings followed by internal meetings were held for every bigwig that arrived in Washington from Israel. Event followed event, meeting followed meeting at an arduous pace. Special clothes were necessary for each event. There were days when we changed clothes a few times a day and, sometimes, we even had to change in the car. We hosted many people at our home, either by our invitation or their request. Ofra missed Israel very much and Rivka used to invite Israeli girls and boys to stay with us, especially those who were traveling the world and who were penniless or those who wanted to save money in order to continue touring.

It was easy to spot the Israelis – "Paladium" shoes, duffle jacket and loud voices - even when they were standing next to each other.

Anat served at a specific Air Force squadron at the Hatserim base and everyone who had ever participated in this squadron, and who came to Washington, came to stay at "Eitan's Hotel" (in fact – boarding house).

Of course it snowed that first winter. Rivka had never seen the snow and did not know how to avoid slipping. She wanted to go shopping and I warned her that she should first allow me to clean the driveway because it was slippery. She did not listen to me, slipped and broke her wrist. I took her to the Walter Reed Hospital, where we were entitled to receive medical assistance. She had to stay in plaster for a few months with a special sling, which was very uncomfortable. This accident dampened her mood and hindered her freedom of movement. After staying a week at the hospital, she returned home for a long and painful convalescence. She could not move freely because she could not drive and it angered her to be dependent on others.

Everyone knows about Rivka's love of traveling aboard. This love did not fade in Washington, from which she wanted to travel to Israel. She traveled to Israel more that any other attaché's wife, in such a short period of time. Her main excuse was her father's health since he had suffered a heart attack. Rivka also has this excellent talent for making friends. One of them invited her to accompany her on her trip to Israel. She then accompanied other friends from Israel to the States, or they sent her tickets to come to some wedding or other. This special talent caused her great pleasure.

On one of her trips to Israel, I rented another apartment. The contract of the house we had lived in had expired and we moved to another district in Silver Spring. The reason for the move, which entailed much work, was Inbal, or rather an African American boy who was bothering Inbal. The boy had begun bothering her from the moment she began 2^nd grade.

The boy, who could not understand what she was saying, decided that she was cursing him, and would chase and swear at her.

Inbal lived in constant fear. The bicycle that I bought her was stolen and it was obvious that the boy was the culprit. I complained to the State Department, to the liaisons unit of foreign attaches and to the police. The police sent a Caucasian policeman around to check the issue and I was witness to the fact that he was frustrated at not being able to do anything about it. He was too scared to question the boy or caution him. I heard and saw how the boy knew how to handle the police. One day, the boy called his family who came to see why I was interfering with their son and why I had brought in the police.

The African Americans totaled approx. 80% of the population in Washington, the Mayor was African American and the white minority was very cautious. One evening we had guests at our home, American officers from the Pentagon, and they heard about our problem and even heard the boy shouting and cursing outside our house. A good friend of ours, Colonel Richard Jarret, who had spent a year in Israel as Raful's guest, wanted to step outside to defend us, but his wife stopped him. She reminded him that they also have this kind of problem in their neighborhood and nobody had been able to solve the problem without getting the media involved.

One day the boy scratched Rivka's car with a sharp instrument. Even though she was still in plaster she, with her Sabra "Hutspah" went outside and pushed him away from the car with her plastered hand. I was worried about getting involved with this boy. I felt that we had to move away but decided to do this while Rivka was in Israel and Inbal at summer school.

Being that this was in contrast to my pledge never to give in and to stand up for my rights, I decided to punish myself.

I did not order a removal company but hired a U-HAUL lorry and we took it upon ourselves to move all the furniture and appliances. This most probably wasn't the cleverest thing I had ever done, but that is how I felt and I was ashamed.

The second house was bigger than the first and had a big front and back garden. I soon realized that my dream home, a house and not an apartment, was not all that I had hoped for. Taking care of the garden and lawn was not as satisfying as I had imagined. It was just a bother, or maybe it was because it wasn't really our own home.

A year after the "Entebbe Raid", I was invited to Columbus, Ohio, to lecture about the subject. Amongst the lecturers and speakers were the Governor of Ohio, a congressman and Shalom Eitan. On a giant sign at the central square, where the rally was to be held, it was written: "201 years of our independence and 1 year to Israel's heroic Entebbe Raid". I appeared everywhere in uniform with all the insignias and decorations and, of course, the lace of the attaché and the Israeli flag next to the sign stating my name and rank. Young people crowded around me, as did the not so young, and asked to have their photo taken with me.

Even though the IDF attaches in the USA, and I suppose it's the same with other countries, fulfill an undefined job, it is still of utmost importance – contact with the Jewish communities to raise their morale and identification with the State of Israel. I regarded the job highly and never made light of it, even when it was inconvenient or interrupted my other activities.

I met a large number of interesting people on my official trips, at meetings and appearances for informational purposes. Because I do not see myself as being particularly talented, or having a full command of the English language, I always made efforts to concentrate on one or two subjects that I was well acquainted with. I was not always enthusiastically received, especially when I appeared as a replacement speaker as a favor or instead of a famous person who the audience had been promised would speak, even if the promise was ungrounded.

One unfortunate situation such as this happened to me at one of the rich and important suburbs of Boston. The person who was supposed to speak was Major General Aharon Yariv. I was asked to take his place because he was unable to come. The head of the community declined this offer and wanted to cancel the event. The Embassy praised me and told them the story of my life and promised that they would not be disappointed. I was not informed about any of this. I arrived at Boston Airport where I was picked up in a Deluxe Cadillac. I was taken to a magnificent hotel. I had never ever seen such extravagance. Something seemed suspicious. My escort spoke to me in such a high manner that I was not accustomed to, far too intelligent for me. I put on my uniform and went into the magnificent hall, in which there were a few hundred men in Black Tie attire, ladies in evening dresses with jewelry from head to toe. I had not prepared a written speech, not even a list of subjects. I was very embarrassed. I am sure that they were able to notice this, especially those who were sitting only a few meters away from me. I asked my escort what the subject was, and he showed me a piece of paper with the lecture that Aharon Yariv was supposed to give. When I saw Aharon Yariv's name, I got cold feet and prayed for a miracle to occur, perhaps even to faint and, thus, prevent myself from disgracing myself, and them the punishment dealt to them by the Information Attaché of the Embassy.

I told myself I had a few options – just say a few words and apologize for Yariv's absence, or to talk about a subject that I am acquainted with and the military development in Israel, or to tell them about my life until I arrived in Israel.

I put these options to the escort, whose embarrassment was as apparent as mine, to see what his reaction would be and he chose the second option. I gave a lecture on the subject of the military research and development and about its importance and thanked God when it was finally over. In the letter they sent me, they politely informed me of their disappointment about the substitute lecturer. I cursed the person who sent me to lecture instead of Yariv. I disappointed a crowd of dignitaries but they were courteous and probably took pity on me. To this day I can still curl up with embarrassment when I think of that night.

During the series of lectures I was giving on the subject of Entebbe, I arrived at a little town in Virginia. This was for a "Sunday Brunch" at the Jewish Community Center. Whole families showed up from all around the area with their guests. When I concluded my lecture on this piquant subject, I was applauded but, in my opinion the applause was really directed towards the heroes who executed the mission, and rightly so. I was asked many questions, some of them personal, such as where had I been brought up, when had I arrived in Israel, etc?

At the brunch with Rivka, Inbal and Anat

I had a similar experience during one of my visits at the Intelligence and Communications base in Arizona called Fort Hauchuka. I have already mentioned my visit there in 1973, together with Shlomo Inbar. This time I visited the base alone, in order to coordinate meetings and to see a model of the "Aquila" MRPV. During lunch, a man came to sit beside me called Berger. Berger was a foreign language teacher at the Intelligence School.

He invited me to dinner and asked if I minded if he invited some members of the Jewish Community¨ who lived next to the base, in a little town called Sierra Vista, so that I could tell them about Israel. I was surprised that next to the base, along the Mexican border, far away from civilization, there was a town at all and especially that Jews lived there.

After dinner, his Jewish friends arrived from the town, about ten people in all. I gave a brief account of my life in Israel and about life in Israel in general, about the Kibbutz, Moshavs, villages, Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, about the Negev, which is similar to Arizona, about education and the IDF.

I answered a lot of questions and was surprised how thirsty they were for information and how they believed in the State of Israel. Not one of those present had ever visited Israel but promised they would do so in the near future. While I was being formally presented to them, as customary in America, each of them announced his name loudly and clearly. One of them said his name was Broitman. This name sounded familiar.

I remembered that my father had said in Yiddish on many occasions: "I am going to Hotin to meet Broitman". I asked him whether he came from Bessarabia and he said he was. I then asked if he was from Hotin and he answered that he was. We carried on clarifying details and it turned out that it was his father that my father had gone to meet.

When I returned home a few years later, I verified the link with Broitman with my father.

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