This is a post from contributor Andyboy. You can visit him at the Andyboy blog.
The second in a series of anecdotes relating some of my experiences in the air, having a connection to Israel or things Jewish.
Boeing 707 – London/Tel Aviv
This concerns an incident on a flight in the early 1970′s. I was seated at the very rear of the plane in the smoking section – even though I have never been a smoker. Hard to believe today that there was once a world in which smoking was permitted in enclosed areas. Even a Luddite like me can grudgingly accept that not ALL change is for the worst. But I digress (as usual).
We landed at Ben Gurion airport, but were detained far from the terminal building for the “security inspection.” I should explain that after the hijacking of 3 planes by Palestinian terrorists in 1970 (and the graphic images of the planes being blown up at Dawson’s Field in Jordan), airline security had been severely tightened. Planes were held in a waiting area while security officers came on board to inspect passengers and their passports.
What I had come to regard as a routine procedure became somewhat less than routine when, after checking my passport, I was “requested” (as only Israeli’s can “request”), to accompany the security guard. This required me to walk the entire length of the plane with the officers, while being acutely aware of 200 pairs of eyes following me. A makeshift inspection tent had been erected near the plane’s steps and I was invited to enter for a full body check. I considered myself fortunate that I was not forced to completely undress, and that the procedure did not include a close inspection of various orifices.
Apparently satisfied that I had no evil intentions, I was released, and allowed to enter a bus of intensely curious people, to whom I could offer no explanation. It transpired the problem was my passport that contained numerous stamps from Far Eastern countries which I had visited on business. In those days, few visitors to Israel had been to Hong Kong, Japan,Taiwan and South Korea. This was also the time in which most of the world was relatively friendly towards us. Were the same procedure, and criteria, in place today, even carrying a British passport would be dangerous!
Hercules C-130 Transport – Tel Aviv/Egypt (Suez Canal)
It’s the first week of November 1973, and I’m being jolted about in the belly of a Hercules C-130 belonging to the Israeli Air Force, en-route to the Suez Canal. How and why, I shall now explain.
In the days immediately following the end of the Yom Kippur War a decision was taken by the JNF to update its senior volunteers on the situation. The purpose was for leaders of the overseas elements of the organisation to witness for themselves the momentous events of the recent weeks. Thus we quickly put together a group and flew to Israel. The main thrust of the various briefings and meetings we attended was to provide us with information that we could use to encourage our supporters and main donors to give their maximum financial support to the fund.
Unlike our Arab “cousins” the JNF was not an organisation to “miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity!” And there’s nothing like a war to open pockets. Forgive the cynicism, but it’s the reality. I know, because the same thing happened in 1967, and I was a part of it then. Having been refused permission to come as a volunteer, I was chosen for the task of selecting others who could come. I temporarily abandoned my business to the mercies of my brother-in law (another story) and spent the next few weeks travelling the UK raising funds for the JNF. So I knew the score.
Of course, nothing could be a greater adrenaline boost than a visit to the front line. The “protexia” inherent in the Israeli political system was utilised, and so we became the guests of the IDF spokesman’s office for a day. There was only one way to get to the front line of the Suez Canal, and that’s how I ended up in a Hercules C-130. Even cattle class on a commercial airliner was luxurious in comparison to the cargo area of a Hercules. Seated on benches made from rope, we struggled to stay upright as the plane bumped and rattled through the turbulence of low altitude flight. After landing, the huge ramp at the rear of the plane was lowered, and we walked out. Now THAT’S a unique feeling, and a sensational way to exit an aircraft.
We had landed at an airstrip not far from a temporary bridge that IDF engineers had hastily built to cross the canal. The area was bustling with troops, trucks,jeeps, APC’s and tanks. Supplies and ammunition were everywhere. After a briefing we were allowed to walk on the bridge – but not all the way to the other side. At least I can say that I partially crossed the canal; anyway it’s a nice story for my grandchildren.
Eventually, we climbed back up the ramp and were transported back to our civilian lives, leaving the excitement of the day behind us. Of course, after this trip we understood better what had happened, and had a small taste of the horror of war in general, and this war in particular.
The group that returned to the UK was much more sombre than the one that had left a few days earlier, but also more determined to do whatever it could to advance the cause of the Jewish state.
Eventually, some of us ended up living here!
Images from Wikipedia
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