illness was. But for nearly six months, getting through the day, sometimes a single task, remained a struggle. I did not want to leave my command. I was still barely 18 months into the role, and anxious to get further command experience. But just as I was feeling at my weakest, there was another belated casualty from the 1973 war. This time, it was Uzi Yairi. No one could reasonably have held him responsible for the losses suffered by Battalion 890 at the Chinese Farm. I’m sure that if he’d known what happened to the Israeli forces that had already tried to take it over, he would never have allowed Yitzhik to go in without adequate armor and artillery support. Still, he blamed himself. In obvious distress after the war, he was reassigned as an operational officer in military intelligence in the kirva. He was still at his desk when Fatah terrorists landed on Tel Aviv’s seafront a little before midnight on March 4, 1975. They were spotted by a police patrol, which opened fire. The Fatah men ran from the beach, firing Kalashnikovs and tossing grenades. A block in from the sea, they burst into a modest, three-story building: the old Savoy Hotel. They shot and killed three people in the lobby and took the rest of the staff and guests hostage. Sayeret Matkal was called in. As the unit went through final preparations for their assault, Uzi showed up. He had a rifle. He was in his everyday officer’s uniform, unlike the sayeret team, which was weighted down by special-forces gear. As a former commander of the sayeret, he persuaded them he could help take out the terrorists and locate the hostages. Shortly before dawn, led by Amiram Levin, they attacked. They killed three of the Fatah men within seconds. But another terrorist set off an explosion, collapsing most of the top floor. Uzi joined a couple of the other sayeret men in search of the hostages. He was shot in the head and neck. Seven of the eight terrorists were killed, the other captured. Though five hostages were