A tour of the trenches

Why did our leaders panic at the thought of Ammunition Hill closing?

By AVIVA BAR-AM
Ammunition Hill 521 (photo credit: Shmuel Bar-Am)
Ammunition Hill 521
(photo credit: Shmuel Bar-Am)
At precisely 5 p.m. on February 20, the Israeli flag that had been flying proudly over Ammunition Hill for years was lowered to the ground. Former paratroopers who had fought on the hill and children of their fallen comrades folded the flag. Taking it with them, they began marching to the Prime Minister’s Residence, where they planned to present the flag to the guard. The doors were locked behind them, quite possibly for the very last time. There just wasn’t enough money in the till to keep this national symbol of heroism under fire up and running.
Financial problems began about two and a half years ago, when the management at Ammunition Hill was ordered to stop charging an entrance fee. That’s because Ammunition Hill is a National Memorial Site, host to the central Jerusalem Day memorial ceremony for soldiers who fell fighting for the city in the Six Day War. By law, even if they are major tourist sites with museums and plenty of upkeep, the country’s seven National Memorial Sites must remain free to the public.
Immediately, the number of visitors doubled in number. Yet although the defense minister promised to ensure ample financing for the site’s operation, the money simply didn’t arrive. Finally, says Ammunition Hill CEO Katriel Maoz, the time came when there simply weren’t enough funds to keep the doors open.
Once the media announced that Ammunition Hill would close on the 20th, Maoz began getting frantic phone calls. Among them was a call on the 20th itself, from the Prime Minister’s Office. Maoz was told that the prime minister would be holding a meeting about the site’s future that afternoon – and asked that Maoz cancel plans to close it down.
He refused, but attended the meeting along with frantic government ministers and representatives. Only when he had a solid commitment for funding in hand did Maoz notify the marchers to stop their procession.
Already at the Jaffa Gate, they returned to Ammunition Hill and, that night, raised the flag once again.
But what exactly is Ammunition Hill, and why did our leaders panic at the thought that it might shut down forever? This week, head for Ammunition Hill and find out.
Near the beginning of the Mandate period (1920- 1948) the British rulers of Palestine established a school for police officers in northern Jerusalem. Natural and burial caves on the adjacent ridge were utilized for storing great stocks of ammunition and the site became known as Ammunition Hill.
After the British left Palestine in mid-May 1948, Jordanian forces conquered Ammunition Hill and turned it into a highly fortified military position. Their fortifications were awesome, including tremendously well-protected bunkers, intricate communications trenches, heavy machine guns and the best of the Jordanian Legion – a highly trained Beduin company.
Constant tension between Israel and the surrounding Arab countries reached its peak in 1967. Egypt and Syria escalated their warmongering at the end of May and international diplomatic efforts to prevent a confrontation were for naught.
In order not to be taken by surprise (which, unfortunately, was exactly the case six years later in 1973), Israel decided to take the initiative. Preemptive strikes aimed at neutralizing both Egyptian and Syrian air capabilities commenced at dawn on June 5 and within a matter of hours, the Arabs’ air forces had crumbled.
Time and again Israel urged Jordan to stay out of the war, but to no avail. Jordan entered the fray on the first day of the Six Day War with massive bursts of fire into Jerusalem neighborhoods, at military positions and on forces holding the Israeli enclave on Mount Scopus.
In the early evening of June 5, 1967, paratroopers were brought to Jerusalem. Those sent to Ammunition Hill had one clear assignment: to attack the Police Training School and Ammunition Hill and take them at all cost.
AND NOW – to the trenches. Walk up the hill to the top and stand behind the trench. Imagine that Jordanian soldiers are inside, ready for action. In front of you, as you face the steps of the outdoor theater, there is a large cement bunker that contained a huge machine gun with its turret pointing straight ahead.
To your right, stretching from the amphitheater all the way up the hill, is the fortified position known as the western trench. Inside, crack Beduin troops were ready for the Israeli assault. The well-fortified central trench was on your left, on the other side of the stone wall.
Israeli intelligence concerning the layout and fortifications at the police school and Ammunition Hill was sketchy at best. What made things worse was the time of day scheduled for the attack: the assault would begin before dawn and the paratroopers charged with taking Ammunition Hill would barely be able to see where they were going. Without a map, in the thick darkness and under heavy fire, it seemed an almost impossible mission.
The first company of paratroopers was instructed to cut through three rows of barbed wire. Yet instead of the three perimeter fences that they anticipated, there were four. While improvising to cut this final, unexpected fourth obstacle, several of the men were hit by enemy fire.
Another company was ordered to capture the main building of the Police Training School and then secure four additional structures closer to Ammunition Hill.
Three platoons were to take each of the three trenches (central, eastern, and western) and they started in your direction. But the confusion! The fire! Units tried to connect with one another, cover for one another. They moved into the exposed area before you, the Triangle of Death. Caught in fire coming from the machine gun in front of you, from the western trench and from the central trench along the side, they sustained heavy casualties.
The Jordanians, however, were in excellent shape; you can see how the bunkers were built each a little higher than the next, each providing cover to the bunker below.
Now walk down into the trench, which held fortified positions every few meters at irregular intervals. Each was different, so the advancing troops never knew what to expect.
The men advanced single file, with the lead soldier continually firing into the trench in front of him to surprise the enemy. When he reached a junction or a fork he would shoot, take a quick peek, then move back and report what he had seen. If the lead soldier was killed or wounded, the next in line stepped over him – or on him – and continued forward. Fire came from in front, from above, it was mayhem.
The sounds of shots and explosions, a yellow flash and your best army buddy was shot to death in front of your eyes. But still, you advanced.
The first intersection has become known as “wounded junction.” Here, medic Yigal Arad saved lives as quickly as he could and whenever he could, in one case putting a large rock under the arm of an injured soldier to stop the bleeding.
Soldiers who woke up in the hospital would open their eyes and their first words would be: “did Yigal make it through?” (He did, but was killed in the Yom Kippur War six years later.) Continue pushing forward. If you want to walk like the soldiers did, keep your head down, crouch, bend down! Expose yourself and the Jordanians on top of the hill will be on you like a flash! Jordanian soldiers are advancing toward you as you run in their direction; you see the burst of fire, you retreat, then continue on. The noise, the glare, the dust and smoke, the strong smell of cordite – it goes on and on, it never lets up.
Officer Nir Nitzan in the western trench asked one of his gunners to climb out of the tunnel and offer the troops covering fire. According to the song that immortalizes the Battle for Ammunition Hill, soldier Eitan Naveh “didn’t hesitate for a moment.”
Furiously firing his machine gun, he provided the soldiers inside with the opportunity to move on another 30 meters before he was shot and killed.
At the V-shaped junction, take the left fork and you will come to a partially open space: the site on which the Large Bunker once stood. Inside was an enormous machine gun facing today’s Ramot Eshkol neighborhood – at the time a desolate wilderness. Above this trench there was a cement ceiling and a highly fortified wall.
THE ARMY’S ingrained policy of having commanders advance ahead of their men meant that many officers were quickly taken out of action at Ammunition Hill. Pvt. Yaki Hetz suddenly found himself first in line heading for the Large Bunker.
His commander, Yoram Eliashiv, had led the platoon slowly and systematically along the length of the trench and had served as a great example for his men. But Eliashiv had been shot and killed.
Hetz felt as though he was all alone on the hill. His call for help brought two more privates – Yehuda Kendal and David Shalom – into the trench. As they were being fired upon from all directions, Kendal climbed up and out of the trench to the left bank, then threw a grenade into the bunker.
Assuming no one was left alive in the Large Bunker, the men prepared to pass through it and move on. But at the last minute Hetz had a strange feeling. He fired into the bunker and ducked.
Jordanian fire shot out from inside the bunker. The two small Israeli forces on each side of the bunker couldn’t get past the Jordanian position to connect.
Each time the Jordanians took a break to reload, Kendal and Hetz threw explosives to Shalom on the other side of the entrance. When 20 kilograms piled up, Shalom activated the fuse and all ran for cover. There was a loud explosion and the wall and part of the ceiling collapsed.
Finally, the way was clear.
The last stage of the battle was perhaps the worst – collecting the wounded and counting the bodies of those comrades who had died. In one company of about 90 soldiers, only seven men had made it through the battle unharmed.
Climb back outside and look for a small hut, which served as quarters for Jordanian officers.
Across from it protrudes the curved roof of the Ammunition Hill Museum that, as you can see, follows the same architectural lines as the cabin.
Before leaving the site of the battle, weary Israeli troops discovered the bodies of 17 Jordanian soldiers near the hut. Although they had just watched their comrades die in battle, our men placed the Jordanians in a mass grave and wrote on top “Here are buried 17 Jordanian soldiers.” One Israeli soldier inserted the word “brave.”
Stand in front of the Ammunition Hill Memorial, whose base was formed when soldiers from the 66th Paratroop Battalion each took a stone and placed it on the ground. On the stone plaque are the names of 36 men from the 66th Paratroop Battalion who fell in the battles for Jerusalem – most of them in battles for the Police Training School and at Ammunition Hill. Added later was another plaque holding the names of battalion paratroopers who were killed in later wars.
The dark, metal slate nearby is inscribed with the names of soldiers killed in more recent actions – all of them paratroopers from the 66th Battalion.
Walk down the hill to enter the museum, where you will find the famous Israeli flag that was planted on a fence atop the Western Wall when troops broke through the Old City walls and liberated the other side of once-divided Jerusalem. Near the exit, a gold wall shines with the names of 182 soldiers who fell in battles for Jerusalem.
Before or after you roam the trenches, watch the lively new sound and light show, which tells the story of Jerusalem from the division of the city in 1948 to its reunification in 1967. For this, there is a fee of NIS 12 and it is wise to call first if you prefer to see it in English.
Phone: 582-9392/3 Hours: Sunday to Thursday, 9 to 5 Ammunition Hill is hosting an Israeli sing-along at 8:30 p.m. on Sunday. Call to reserve a place. •