At 2,224 meters (7,300 feet) above sea level, inside Mount Hermon, intelligence operatives listen to signals around the clock • Overlooking Syria, the men and women of this secluded electronic surveillance outpost are the first line of defense in preventing surprise attacks.
First lieutenant A. says he will never forget his first time. "I was in ecstasy, I felt like I was on top of the world. There is nothing like it; it's better than anything, even the greatest party in town. Wow.
"I heard some tremendous information over the earphones. I was a young signals intelligence interceptor, two weeks after completing a difficult training course here. I just jumped up over my desk and ran to the commanding officer's window and said to him: 'I have gold in my hands. Gold!'"
Today, A. is the commander of a signals intelligence team in the elite Israle Defense Forces Military Intelligence unit 8200. His team is situated in an outpost atop the snow-covered Mount Hermon — an outpost that has been labeled "the eyes of the nation."
For the first time, the IDF has allowed the outpost to be exposed in the media, giving a rare glimpse into the mysterious and secretive lives of the soldiers perched at the highest altitude in Israel, at 2,224 meters (7,300 feet) above sea level. They are glued to their headsets 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, and they listen to anything that moves, or doesn’t move, in Syria. The goal: to ensure that Israel is not caught by surprise, as it was 39 years ago, when Arab states launched a surprise attack on Israel on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar. They are not just the eyes but also the ears of the nation.
The outpost is located literally inside the mountain, in tunnels dug in the 1980s as part of the aftermath of the Yom Kippur War. Below the outpost lies a Syrian village, and you can see all of the Golan Heights from there. Not far from the outpost, bloody battles are being waged between the army of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and the rebels, and Israel is closely monitoring the developments, not without concern.
The 8200 unit transferred to this outpost some five years ago. A tunnel leads to the lower part of the outpost, inside the mountain. That is where the listening devices are housed as well as soldiers' quarters, a dining hall, a lounge, a gym and a training room. The thick metal doors usually require codes, and everything is under wraps, top secret. There is a feeling of intelligence and information locked in every hollowed rock wall.
The upper level of the outpost, out in the open air, is where the antennas are held within giant domes. The small outpost looks like a decked-out mobile telephone company fortress. The unit gathers intelligence via signals (a field known as SIGINT), decrypts codes and uses cutting edge technology to do it.
Col. Y., the unit's commanding officer, takes us upstairs in an almost pre-historic elevator that feels as if it might stop working at any minute. There is an indescribable difference between the two levels. The old, rusty elevator takes you on a minutes-long anxiety-ridden ride to the upper level, and that is were you really find yourself at incredible heights.
"Here, in front of Mount Hermon, I get the feeling that I am conquering peaks of information," says Y. "I feel the weight of the responsibility we have been given. Everything begins here. This is where the initial information processing takes place. These antennas intercept signals that undergo decryption in technology networks and end up in the listening center. That is the core of the initial work on the intelligence chain. From here, the information is passed on to the head of military intelligence, to decision-makers, and to military divisions in the field."
There are several security positions around the outpost, manned by paratroopers. The view is breathtaking. The unbridled power of the Golan Heights is laid out in front of your eyes. The feeling is that the entire world is in their hands. The Syrian homes in the village below look like Lego pieces.
Lt. Col. L., 8200 regional commander, says that every time he climbs up to the top and stands next to the mighty antennas he is reminded of the reasons he is so proud to be serving in the IDF.
"At the heart of every intelligence soldier lies the Yom Kippur War trauma," he says. "We teach the youngest private never to take any chances, and if necessary, then yes, wake even the head of military intelligence in the middle of the night with this or that piece of information, even if it turns out to be less important than he or she thought."
Couldn't the enormous pressure on soldiers not to miss anything devolve into paranoia?
"There is no paranoia, but there is a lot of responsibility. They have to decide which material to process and which to ignore, and that requires a lot of thought, a lot of listening and a lot of understanding."
Are there soldiers who couldn't stand the pressure and asked to quit?
Base commander Capt. D. intervenes in the conversation, saying, "There were a handful of cases in which soldiers became stressed out at one particular point and we stepped in and helped them, whether it was by letting them skip a shift or by providing mental assistance, but I don't know of anyone who quit. The screening for the unit is so stringent that we only get the best people — the ones with strong characters, maturity and a lot of motivation."
"This is not a conventional place," says another senior officer. "The entire region is undergoing profound changes, as are the technological circumstances, and I can't overstate the drama that is unfolding here. [In the past] we had to monitor two and a half fronts, but today we live in a much more complex and challenging age, and so are the demands. Our job has come to cover a lot more ground and we need to keep reinventing ourselves."
Can you say with any degree of confidence that Israel won't be caught off guard again as it was in 1973?
"As an intelligence officer, I am never at ease. The moment I become comfortable, they will have to replace me. Maybe we won't be surprised as we were in the Yom Kippur War, but that doesn't mean that we can rest assured that we will know everything. In the past, you had to give warning before going to war. Today, things are different. Things are happening in Syria, Egypt has undergone profound changes, a lot of new players have entered the arena. We can never think that we won't ever be caught off guard again.
"I am rather perturbed by the threat coming out of Sinai, and from the no-man's land that has erupted right under my nose. Even the border with Lebanon is never calm. Our job is to understand the dangers and the various scenarios, to accurately analyze all the challenges, to act in a much wider and varied fashion and to doubt everything. To be sober."
Down below, the listening center looks like a beehive, teeming with activity. There are quite a few female and male soldiers, a small percentage of them young people who began the process of screening and selection before their recruitment, and then completed short basic training before moving onto a grueling training course. They come here after six months in the army.
Manning the listening center are signals intelligence (SIGINT) operators, equipped with headphones, technological and intelligence accessories, and facing computer screens. A standard shift lasts eight hours, and the operators remain constantly attentive, believing that every conversation they intercept can save lives, and that they have a crucial role in formulating deterrence.
Cpl. D. is a SIGINT operator. She is 20 years old, with big, inquisitive eyes, black, wavy hair, and pleasant smile reflecting a satisfaction which she is not particularly trying to hide. Every morning she jumps out of bed before 6 a.m. to get to her shift on time, already eager to begin her work, listen in on Arabic conversations, and intercept information.
She began serving here about a year ago. Like the others, she was marked for the role even before her recruitment. "In high school, I took Arabic at the highest level and always knew that I wanted to serve in intelligence. I specifically wanted to serve in this post in the Hermon. This is a small and intimate place which offers huge challenges and gives a lot of satisfaction.”
And also a lot of pressure?
"I don't panic," she says. "It doesn't bother me to hear so much Arabic in one day, it's my duty, and I'm not willing to give up on it. I wasn't looking for an easy army service that was close to home. I didn't want to be at the Azrieli Mall (in Tel Aviv) all the time after just another boring day at the Kirya. I wanted to go far, even though during the winter, it's hard here. But this is the place. This is the core of the army's intelligence. This is the work I dreamed of doing for so long."
You're not afraid of a war breaking out precisely during your shift?
"Sure, it has crossed my mind. We've been briefed over such situations. But I get excited every day by the fact that I can make an impact through the information that I am intercepting and passing on. We already had a situation in which we were all watching a good movie, and suddenly one of the operators burst into the room and said his group caught on to something good, a valuable conversation. Everyone stopped what they were doing and we all came to lend a hand. These are the moments we're all waiting for — to catch valuable pieces of information, and as much as possible.”
"We aren’t chosen for 8200 based on how the prescription number of our eye glasses," says a smiling soldier. "We need to know Arabic, English and sometimes other languages. We have to be well-versed in computers. But we're also young guys who know how to live, laugh, dance. We're not always so serious.
"We learned this technique for how you can slightly move the headphones from our ears so we can hear if one of the guys tells a good joke, and then our ears are split between laughs and listening to the information. This is very liberating; it's something we need from time to time. Sometimes we also need a little breather, so every once in a while we'll have an evening of fun near the antennas on the upper level. We bring our coffee kit, sit with our guitars and sing."
Cpl. D. chimes in: "We have a good time. We are all good friends; it feels like family. After I finish a shift, I can go see a movie at the club or work out at the gym. We also cook good food for ourselves at night. There's life after work."
And yes, in case you were wondering, love stories have come out of the outpost, and even weddings.
