Chronicle Editor Emeritus Jerry Bellune shares with you his adventures in the Holy Land. The experience gave him a greater appreciation of shared U.S. and Israeli values.

TJerusalem, Israel

he Israeli commandoes like my new friend Uri were feeling relieved.

They had flown into Entebbe, Uganda, in the dark after hours in the air, seized control of the airport, freed the hostages and left Uganda’s MiG jets in ruins.

Ugandan pilots would have no chance to shoot down the four Israeli C-30 Hercules transport planes headed home, Uri told me in Jerusalem after the raid.

Leaving Entebbe in one piece with only their commander Yoni Netanyahu wounded, they felt safe.

But if the unexpected can happen, it will. Ironically, the commandoes had a close call with disaster as Col. Ephraim Sneh recalled in a news interview later.

A near tragedy

As one giant transport plane headed north, a hostage beckoned Col. Sneh, the medical team leader.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said. “I’m afraid I’m sitting on something military.”

She handed it to Sneh.

It was a grenade.

The type of grenade the Israeli Defense Force did not regularly use because of its volatility.

“The commandos took it specially for the Entebbe operation because it is very small ... so they could carry more of them,” he recalled.

He suspected it fell off Yoni Netanyahu’s stretcher as he was being rushed to the plane for medical attention.

A hundred hostages had probably stepped on it.

“This heavy lady was sitting on it,” he said. “If it had gone off, that would have been the end of all of us.”

Half an hour after leaving Entebbe, the Israeli planes landed in Kenya which had allowed them to refuel on their way home.

In Nairobi, injured hostages were treated.

In spite of injuries, the atmosphere was electric. They had done the impossible.

Netanyahu’s men knew he had been wounded but they were soon to learn that he had not survived.

Joyous homecoming

News about the rescue spread across the world.

The planes landed at Ben Gurion International Airport at mid-morning.

Men, women and children rushed into the outstretched arms of their relatives and friends. Tears flowed freely.

Two days later, Yoni Netanyahu was buried with military honors at the Mount Herzl Military Cemetery near Jerusalem.

Thousands of mourners attended his funeral.

Before this, he had been virtually unknown because of the secrecy of his work.

Overnight, he became a national hero and the stunning mission would be tinged with tragedy.

His story so captured the imagination that often it is forgotten that he was not the only victim at Entebbe.

For the families of four hostages, there were no honors – only a desire to take meaning from the losses of their loved ones, innocent victims in a conflict that they never chose.

Yoni’s younger brother, now Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, recalled how he heard of his elder brother’s death.

“Like millions around the world, I received news of the operation from news flashes and that Yoni commanded it.”

He and Yoni’s other brother Iddo could not join the mission due to an Israeli rule against assigning relatives to dangerous missions.

“Iddo told me he had not heard from him and that he would get back to me,” he said, “but he did not.

“As the hours passed, I knew that Yoni had been killed. I can’t explain why I knew this, since Yoni had participated in so many operations, in so many battles, and I never had this feeling. But now I did, and when Iddo called, I already knew what he would tell me.”

Next: 39 hours from here to Cebu, Philippines.