A windswept hill, where the leaves rustle on the olive trees, and the ground lies silent… almost in silent memorial, to the sounds that echoed here forty-two years ago….
The view today is mostly obscured; where once the hill overlooked the Northern side of Jewish Jerusalem, from across the Jordanian border, today the homes and streets of Ramat Eshkol, a neighborhood that sprouted up after the Six Day War fill the landscape. And where once Jordanian guns trained on Israel, forcing civilians to seek refuge behind makeshift protection, toady children play soccer in a new school that sits just below the ridge.
But take a walk below the old Jordanian police academy, along the rows of trenches that snake their way across the hill, and close your eyes, and you can still hear the echoes of gunfire, and the cries of the soldiers that rang out here, on Ammunition Hill, in June of 1967.
In May of 1967, with Arab armies massed on her borders, and the entire Israeli army reserves mobilized, Israel was in a desperate situation. With all the able-bodied men called up to the front lines, Israel