Striking Back: The 1972 Munich Olympics Massacre and Israel's Deadly Response (17 page)

Ankie Spitzer, widow of the slain Israeli fencing coach Andrei Spitzer, surveys the room at Munich’s Olympic Village where her husband was held. Chalk outlines made by German police trace the impact of bullets.
Photo courtesy Associated Press.

The two West German helicopters that carried the armed terrorists and their nine Olympian hostages pictured at Fürstenfeldbruck air force base outside of Munich. The helicopter in the foreground is burned out as a result of a hand grenade set off by one of the terrorists. Nine of the eleven hostages were killed in the shootout at the air base. Five terrorists and one German policeman also died.
Photo courtesy Associated Press.

Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir addressing the Knesset.
Photo courtesy GPO.

Aharon Yariv, the head of Military Intelligence until October 1972 when he became advisor on terrorism under Prime Minister Golda Meir.
Photo courtesy GPO.

Three surviving terrorists from Munich at a press conference upon their release in Libya. From left to right: Adnan Al-Jishey, Jamal Al-Jishey, and Mohammed Safady.
Photo courtesy Getty Images.

Then Chairman Yasar Arafat and Kamal Nasser are pictured here engaged in conversation prior to a meeting of the Executive Committee of the Palestine Liberation Organization, in Cairo, on February
27, 1971
.
Photo courtesy Associated Press.

Salah Khalaf (Abu Iyad), considered a major leader of Fatah, was the mastermind of the Munich attack.
Photo courtesy Palestinian Academic Society for the Study of International Affairs.

Ali Hassan Salameh, one of Yasser Arafat’s confidantes and the head of Force 17 in Fatah. He was killed by an Israeli-initiated car bomb on January
22, 1979
, in Beirut.
Photo courtesy Palestinian Academic Society for the Study of International Affairs.

Abu-Daoud (center), who claimed responsibility for the terrorist attack on Israeli athletes in Munich, is pictured here being escorted by French police at Paris’s Orly Airport, January
11, 1977
.
Photo courtesy AFP/Getty Images.

Barak would activate the coordinated attack with five scratchy transmissions from his own, internal radio system. Betzer counted them out with his fingers, clenching his fist on the fifth. A second member of the squad flipped the switch on the activation device. Several seconds of silence ticked by. Suddenly the sharp popping sound of gunfire rose from the street. Two more seconds passed before the detonation device exploded, blowing the door off its hinges and filling the hall with smoke. Betzer and another commando stormed in. They knew the layout from the endless drills and simulations. Running down the hall toward the workroom, Betzer saw a familiar face peek out of the bedroom. He raised his Uzi at Abu-Yussef, the man whose picture he had kept in his breast pocket. The PLO activist slammed the door shut. Betzer unleashed a long blast of fire and then kicked it in. Both commandos found Abu-Yussef dead in a pool of blood, his fatally injured wife by his side. Betzer, worried by the shooting in the street, decided not to pick up Abu-Yussef’s papers as planned, despite the waterproof bags they carried for that express purpose. He commanded his soldiers to follow him to the street below.

The other two teams were similarly successful. The spokesman, Kamal Nasser, was caught by surprise, sitting at his desk, in his pajamas, working on a eulogy for a friend. He ducked beneath the desk, opened fire, and hit one of the commandos in the leg. The second soldier through the door shot Nasser dead. The third target, Kamal Adwan, died in front of his wife and kids, a cold AK
-47
in his hand. The soldiers shoved piles of paper into the bags and left the apartment within two minutes. Racing down the stairs, an apartment door opened, triggering immediate fire from the tense commandos. A seventy-year-old Italian woman, investigating the nighttime noise and commotion, was killed.

They raced out of the house; a firefight was in progress. Barak and Levine, in wigs and makeup, had been standing next to the doctor and naval commando when a curious security guard got out of a parked sedan and approached them. Crossing the street, he pulled out his weapon. Barak and Levine waited until he was a few yards away, drew their silenced pistols, and fired. The security guard retreated to his car, firing over his shoulder. Barak and Levine returned fire with their stock-less Uzis. A stray bullet activated the horn of the car, waking the neighbors, and probably prompting them to call the police, who would arrive with shocking alacrity. This gun battle is what Major Biran saw from the deck of the missile boat.

Once the security guard stopped firing, Barak summoned the getaway cars. As they pulled to a stop, a police Land Rover turned onto Vardun Street. Betzer tossed a grenade onto the canvas roof of the vehicle. Everyone inside was killed or maimed in the explosion. The soldiers squeezed back into the Buicks and raced toward the beach, tires squealing. The last car sprayed Ninja spikes behind them to impede any followers. Once they had slid back into the main artery of traffic, the drivers resumed a casual pace, arousing no suspicion. They parked on the seaside promenade, left the keys in the ignition, and went down to the water.

The naval commando from Barak’s team signaled his buddies in the rubber Zodiacs waiting offshore. Their affirmation of the transmission was the first sign of life Biran and the other staff officers at the command center had heard since the teams had left the missile boat. They still had no idea whether the mission was a success, whether there were dead or injured; but they knew they were back. Biran breathed a sigh of relief. The thirty longest minutes of his life were over.

Boarding the missile boats, they were updated about the other components of the mission. Shahak’s force, also in civilian garb and escorted by Mossad combatant drivers, had been engaged in a fierce firefight in front of the DFLP building. Two soldiers were killed, one critically injured. The forward entry team was able to lay the explosive devices under heavy fire and damage the building. Lieutenant Colonel Amnon Shahak would be awarded a citation for valor for his command under fire. The naval commandos and the paratroopers encountered no resistance, but, due to faulty intelligence, also found no weapons or demolitions factories.