COMMENTARY : Grimsley Recalls the Tragedy at Munich

Will Grimsley covered nine Summer Olympics and six Winter Games for The Associated Press, including the 1972 Munich Games in which 11 members of the Israeli team were killed in a terror attack. For a weary, slumbering newsman, the frantic knock on the steel door of room 4-B on the second floor of the Olympic press dormitory had the impact of a thunderclap.

“The office said to get over to the Village right away,” blurted a breathless messenger. “Some Arabs have busted into the Israelis’ quarters and are killing people.”

The sun was just beginning to peek over the stark, stilted structures hosting the 20th Olympiad in Munich, which the Germans had proudly proclaimed “The Peaceful Olympics.”

They were determined to erase memories of Adolf Hitler’s nationalistic, race-baiting Berlin Games of 1936 with their swastikas, goose-stepping legions, “Heil Hitler” salutes and, finally, the Fuehrer’s snub of America’s black hero, Jesse Owens, winner of four gold medals.

The date was September 5, 1972, with only five days remaining in this fortnight of international sport.

I dressed hurriedly. I almost panicked when I discovered I had no Village press badge, having passed it along to an AP cohort for the day since I had been assigned to the office.

In desperation, I grabbed a blue blazer and attached a souvenir pocket patch similar to those worn by officials--an eagle and five Olympic rings. There was no press insignia. It proved fortuitous.

Arriving at the gate, I found the Village tightly sealed--only competitors and officials admitted. Pulling my best bluff, I rushed to the gate, mumbled “committee” and--whoosh--there I was inside.

Surprisingly, an easy calm pervaded. Athletes wearing the insignias of more than 100 nations were casually strolling the grounds, heading for breakfast and pursuing normal routines.

Jivy tunes blared from the juke boxes. Competitors congregated around the concession stands, played games, danced and sun-bathed beside the reflective pool. Laughter and joviality belied the seriousness of the occasion.

Strangely, most of the Olympians seemed unaware of the grim tragedy unfolding a few hundred feet away in Building 31 on the Connollystasse, named for the former American hammer thrower, Harold Connolly.

Overnight, five Arab terrorists wearing gruesome ski masks had slipped over an unguarded back fence and swarmed into the living quarters of the 19-member Israeli team, which was just winding up an all-night party.

The Israeli wrestling coach, Moshe Weinberg, was slain after answering the door and resisting the intrusion. His body, bleeding, was tossed onto the front stoop, to be picked up later in the morning by an ambulance driver.

A handful of Israelis escaped through a rear door but another was shot and left to die in the complex where nine others were bound and blindfolded while their armed captors--their evil message delivered--settled down to a marathon bargaining session, 14 hours of taut and tortuous drama.

The standoff was centered on an area no larger than a football field beneath two buildings on the Connollystrasse, buildings which sat on concrete slabs allowing subterranean traffic underneath.

A small number of competitors, somber and intent, watched from a grassy knoll some 100 yards away.

By mid-morning, as negotiations continued, authorities feverishly prepared for any eventuality. Helicopters whirred overhead. Sounds of police sirens echoed in the distance. Guns of uniformed sharpshooters began appearing behind turrets of adjoining buildings.

An area of about 50 square feet was roped off just below the beleaguered Building 31. A long black van moved into place and out stepped the Munich chief of police and a bevy of security specialists.

This was the command post. The Olympic patch which had gotten me through the gate of the secured Village permitted me to stride unchallenged inside the ropes--still mistaken as an official American observer.

Workmen connected hot wires linking the command post with Israeli Premier Golda Meir in Tel Aviv and Germany’s Chancellor Willy Brandt in Bonn. The strategists brought out huge maps, laid them on the hood of the van and discussed options.

I was the only newsman inside the ropes with access to world-shaking decisions--and it was useless. I didn’t know a word of German.

I managed to sneak upstairs periodically and phone largely feature stuff to the AP office in the Olympic Press headquarters while any hard news had to come from official briefings at the Press Center.

Bob Johnson, the AP’s General Sports Editor, who as Chief of Bureau in Dallas had written the first bulletin on President Kennedy’s assassination, dispatched his large Olympic staff and supervised the running story.

Tensions mounted as the sun rose higher in the sky and began its slow, downward journey in the afternoon. Rumors were rife. Nerves became edged. Resolution appeared distant.

Occasionally, one of the hooded terrorists would appear on the second-story balcony and converse with authorities below. Later in the day, one of them left the apartment, still masked, and walked onto the Connollystrasse for huddles with negotiators.

Each time, they were within the sights of marksmen on the rooftops, but German and Olympic officials chose to exercise caution rather than risk one more Israeli life.

The German Minister of the Interior, Hans Dietrich Genscher, proposed letting German officials substitute for the Israeli hostages and all be flown to safety, with the terrorists paid a handsome ransom. The Arabs refused.

Golda Meir sent word: “We will not deal with terrorists.”

In the late afternoon, rubber-soled tanks began moving into position in the underground passageway, giving rise to speculation that the Germans had exhausted all efforts for a compromise and were preparing for drastic measures.

They were followed by a fleet of ambulances with white-coated doctors and nurses, giving rise to concern that there might be a shootout and bloodbath.

Shortly after 9 p.m., a huge spotlight was beamed on an open area of the Village adjacent to the command post.

“They’re bringing in a helicopter to take the Arabs and Israelis to the airport,” one of the security officers said. “They’ve struck a deal.”

Moments later, two black buses rolled up to the subterranean entrance of the besieged complex. Overhead came sounds of a whirring helicopter.

The helicopter never landed on the spotlighted area in the Village, but came down just outside the Village gates--a ploy.

Instead, the terrorists and their hostages were loaded into the two black buses and sent off, as learned later, to one of Hitler’s obscure military airports on the outskirts of the city.

“Whew! It looks like that’s over,” muttered one of the weary security guards.

“Don’t count on it,” said a nearby doctor, lowering his head as if in prayer. He knew the brutal truth. It was never intended that the terrorists get out alive.

Just as the motorcade reached the airport, a mysterious shot--was it from a terrorist’s gun, or that of an edgy security guard?--suddenly rang out.

A police guard in the air tower was shot dead. The terrorist in the bus carrying the Israelis panicked and began shooting his hostages point-blank, finally blowing up the bus with a hand grenade. The police mowed down the other Arabs.

The final toll: 11 Israelis slain, including the two who died in the Village. Also dead: Five terrorists and the West German policeman in the tower.

A pall hung over the Olympic Village the next day. Some officials called for canceling the rest of the Games, a request sternly refused by Avery Brundage, ending his 20th year as president of the IOC.

It was the Games in which American swimmer Mark Spitz won his seventh gold medal the night of the attack and then was secretly rushed home by officials who feared that as a Jew, Spitz might become a target of terrorism.

It was the Games in which the United States lost its first Olympic basketball game, dropping the gold medal to the Soviet Union in a disputed. chaotic finish.

But for always it will be the Games of hate in which a small band of Israeli athletes were innocent victims in a spectacle that had been dedicated to peace and good will.