At 3.20am, the plane landed at Entebbe Airport in Uganda and the hijackers were joined by three more Palestinians armed with automatic weapons. The Ugandans made no attempt to intervene because their President Idi Amin was close to Haddad and knew of the hijacking in advance. His soldiers helped to guard the hostages after they had been taken to the departure lounge of the disused Old Terminal. That afternoon Idi Amin visited the hostages and said he was trying to secure their release. "I know that you are innocent," he told them, "but the guilty one is your government."
Day Three: Tuesday June 29
At 12.30pm the Israeli government received word of the hijackers' demands: the release of 53 "freedom fighters" imprisoned in five countries - including 40 in Israel - by noon on Thursday. If not they would begin killing hostages. This prompted Yitzhak Rabin, the Israeli prime minister, to ask Israeli Defence Forces chief of staff Motta Gur if the military "had any way to rescue the hostages". Later, Defence Minister Shimon Peres - vehemently opposed to negotiation - discussed a possible rescue with senior IDF officers. Back at Entebbe, Böse had divided the hostages into two groups: Israelis (and a few Orthodox Jews from other countries) and non-Israelis. This reminded some concentration camp survivors of the wartime Nazi selektionen. When Michel Cojot, a French Jew, encouraged the crew to remain with the Israelis, they refused. "We are not heroes," said one. "We prefer to remain here."
Day Four: Wednesday June 30
Gur's planners had come up with four options: parachuting into Lake Victoria with Zodiacs; using boats to cross Lake Victoria from Kenya to Uganda; hiding a rescue force on a plane that allegedly contained released terrorists; and airlifting 1,000 men to Entebbe in C-130 transport planes. At midday in Entebbe the terrorists released 47 vulnerable hostages, including 12-year-old Olivier Cojot, Michel's son, who, on reaching Paris that evening, gave vital intelligence about the "separation", the layout of the terminal, the terrorists and their close relationship with Amin.
Day Five: Thursday July 1
With the deadline looming, Gur told Rabin that none of the IDF's rescue plans was close to operational. In that case, said Rabin, negotiation was the only option. At Entebbe, the hostages were counting down the minutes to the deadline when Amin visited with momentous news: he had persuaded the terrorists to release another 100 hostages and extend the deadline to 2pm on Sunday.
This gave the IDF three extra days to perfect a rescue plan. Aware Amin was helping the terrorists, the planners abandoned the schemes with no exit strategy and settled on landing four transport planes at the airport, "freeing the hostages, and flying out".
The first would contain men from the IDF's elite anti-terrorist force Sayeret Matkal (The Unit) and three vehicles - including a Mercedes limousine - to drive them to the Old Terminal.
The follow-up planes would bring reinforcements, armoured cars and medical personnel.
Peres approved the operation, code-named Thunderbolt. Gur was less convinced, dubbing it a "charlatan" plan that might result in another Bay of Pigs disaster. What was needed was more intelligence; yet he was happy for the preparations to continue.
Day Six: Friday July 2
The second batch of released hostages arrived in Paris.
Among them was Olivier Cojot's father Michel, who gave the Mossad precise intelligence about the terrorists and the layout of the terminal.
Meanwhile, the planning continued, with Major Muki Betser drilling the Unit's assault teams. To confirm the lead plane could land in darkness, Gur took part in a practice run that almost ended in disaster when the pilot mistook a perimeter fence for the runway.
It was followed by a full-scale rehearsal of the mission that one senior officer on the raid thought "very bad" and unrealistic. But Gur seemed satisfied. It "went well", he told Peres, "and I think the plan will work".
In Nairobi, meanwhile, Kenyan security chiefs gave the Mossad the price of their co-operation: the destruction of the Ugandan air force and, if possible, Idi Amin's assassination.
Day Seven: Saturday July 3
Rabin was still hesitant but, by 1pm, when the full Cabinet met, he had made up his mind. "We have a military option," he declared. "It has been thoroughly examined and recommended by the chief of staff... We have to take it even if the price is heavy."
As a soldier, Rabin knew that the intelligence was far from perfect: the planners didn't know the exact location of the hostages; they didn't know if the building was wired with explosives; and they didn't even have accurate maps of the airport. Rabin, as a result, was anticipating around 20 dead hostages, and possibly more. He was prepared to take this risk - this leap in the dark - chiefly because of Gur's confidence that the plan would work. Gur, in turn, was influenced by the certainty of the mission commander Dan Shomron who said later: "It was an impossible plan. That's why it was bound to work. They did not believe we would come."
At 3.40pm, after a brief refuelling stop in the Sinai, the four C-130s took off for Uganda. They flew in total radio silence and at barely 100 feet to evade enemy radar.
Day Eight: Sunday July 4
At one minute past midnight, the lead plane landed unnoticed at Entebbe. Having taxied to an access strip between the new and old runways, the plane lowered its ramp and three vehicles packed with commandos drove off and headed for the Old Terminal with their lights on. The lead vehicle saw a Ugandan sentry raise his rifle and gesture for them to stop. Muki Betser knew from his time in Uganda that it was standard procedure and the sentry would not open fire. That was why they were in a Mercedes. But his commander Yoni Netanyahu wanted to shoot the sentry with a silenced pistol and, ignoring Betser's advice to leave him, ordered the driver to "cut to the right and we'll finish him off".
With all surprise lost, and a firefight underway, the commandos tumbled out of the vehicles and raced for the Old Terminal. The first entrance was blocked and, as they headed for the next one, Netanyahu was mortally wounded by Ugandan shots from the control tower.
The terrorists knew a rescue was in progress and Böse aimed his Kalashnikov at the nearest hostages. But he could not shoot them in cold blood, and instead told them to take cover. "At the last moment," confessed a fellow terrorist, "they realised, 'No, we won't do it because it's over'."
Seconds later, Böse, Kuhlmann and two more terrorists were shot dead as Betser and his commandos entered the room. Also struck and mortally wounded by Israeli bullets were three hostages, one mistaken for a terrorist.
In the adjacent rooms, and on the floor above, more commandos killed the remaining three terrorists and a number of Ugandan soldiers.
Once the forces on the other planes had secured the airport, the hostages and casualties were loaded on to the fourth Hercules and left for Nairobi at 12.52 am.
The rescue had taken just 51 minutes.
Aftermath
It is rightly remembered in Israel as one of the nation's finest hours, and its fame helped to launch the political career of the then unknown Bibi Netanyahu, brother of the only soldier to die in the raid.
The rescue, moreover, was the West's first major victory in its long struggle with international terrorism, and its legacy is still felt today.
Most governments prefer to use specialist counter-terrorist units to rescue hostages rather than give in to blackmail while, in Israel itself, the very success of the operation – and the resultant belief that Israeli intelligence services and soldiers could deal with any security threat - may, ironically, have made it harder for politicians to force through the compromises required for peace.
