On the night of July 3, 1976, I stepped off a Hercules aircraft onto the tarmac of Entebbe Airport. We landed in darkness, four thousand kilometers from home, knowing that the success of the entire operation depended on every minor detail of our mission.

I was the commander of the soldiers from Sayeret Tzanchanim (Paratroopers), whose responsibility it was to secure and mark the runway. This would allow the next three Hercules aircraft to land safely.  Without that, one hundred and five hostages would stay where they were.

We had only twenty-four hours to prepare for the mission. We carried out a model exercise at an abandoned airfield on Friday night, after which we met with Chief of Staff Motta Gur and Defense Minister Shimon Peres, who wanted to be certain we were ready, physically and emotionally. A low-altitude flight took us from Ben Gurion Airport to Sharm el-Sheikh, where commander Dan Shomron delivered final words of motivation. Then we flew south towards Uganda. Four thousand kilometers from home.

People ask if I was nervous. The answer is that I was focused. I was not afraid of dying, but I was concerned about what would happen if we got stuck deep in Idi Amin territory. It was my responsibility to ensure that the 19 soldiers under my command believed they were the strongest force in that airport. Because they were. We were well-trained, well-informed and locked in.

Within moments of landing, four of my soldiers marked the runway. I took six men and moved to the high ground overlooking the old terminal. We took the control tower, the nerve center that controlled the entire airport. Seven........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)