It's midday on October 6th 1973 in Northern Israel.
It's the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur and Lieutenant Zvi Greengold
is celebrating with his family when he hears the roar of jet engines.
On this holy day combat jets in the sky can only mean Israel is under attack.
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Back in Nothern Israel, Zvi arrives at the forward operating military base of Nafah a mere hour later.
It’s a chaotic scene, injured soldiers arrive by the truckload from the fierce fighting taking place just kilometers away.
At the same time reservists like himself pour into the base from the surrounding communities.
Zvi helps the overstretched medics deal with the injured.
Meanwhile amidst the chaos a group of mechanics works around the clock repairing four modified Centurion tanks.
Deputy Brigade Commander David Israeli is desperate to field as many units as possible
to stop the advance of the United Arab Republic,
in his haste he summons Zvi and orders him to get himself a crew to man whichever tanks are successfully repaired.
It takes the mechanics until evening, but two of the four Centurions are successfully brought to operating conditions.
Lieutenant Zvi Greengold immediately takes them over with a varied crew of unit-less tankers.
And “Zvika force” rolls out into battle.
They drive for 4 km until they find their first targets.
Under the red Israeli sunset, they spot a 4 tank group of Syrian T-55s advancing on their own.
Zvi orders the Centurions to peek over the hills, and fire.
With a BOOM the Israelis fire their first rounds on that fateful day,
the shells streak straight into the T-55s, punching right through their armor.
In a blink of an eye half of the enemy force goes up in flames.
The two Centurions reverse back into cover, the enemies never seeing them.
A triumphant Zvi takes the radio to coordinate his next move but he finds it dead.
He curses his luck; he can’t fight without good communications.
Out of options he crawls out of his war machine and runs over to his partner.
He explains the situation and orders the commander to return the radio-less tank back to base,
Zvi will stay on to fight.
Zvi keeps a watchful eye upon his surroundings.
The evening has turned to night and a gentle wind provides little respite from the desert heat.
It’s deathly quiet, not even the buzz of insects daring to pierce the brutal silence.
That is, until the distant rumble of engines and tracks reaches Zvi’s ears.
It doesn’t take them long to spot their pray but they aren’t prepared for what they see.
Streaming across the desert is an awesome sight.
It's a 30-tank convoy of the Syrian 51st Independent Tank Brigade headed straight for their position.
It’s a nightmare scenario, 1 tank against 30, but even being this vastly outnumbered doesn’t deter the plucky tank crew.
Zvi orders his driver into an ambush position behind a hill a few meters off the side of the road.
The gunner keeps a Centurion aiming straight at the road as the column slowly and deliberately rolls their way.
The T-55 drives into the Centurion’s sights and Zvi shouts.
“Fire!”
The gunner fires from point blank range and the enemy vehicle violently detonates, sending the turret sky-high.
The column is stopped dead in its tracks.
The Syrians panic, they can't see their enemy.
In their desperation they turn on their searchlights
but all it does is make Zvi’s targets shine brightly against the black desert backdrop.
The Centurion picks off its prey one by one,
Zvi leading his crew with the patience of a hunter and the gunner firing with the precision of a sniper.
The Syrians don’t see a thing as one by one their vehicles are turning to scrap before their eyes.
The column panics, convinced they’ve wandered into an ambush of a larger force.
They swiftly retreat without ever firing a single shot, leaving behind at least 6 burning wrecks.
But the battle isn’t yet over.
Shortly afterwords a 10-tank force led by Lieutenant Colonel Uzi Mor arrives at their location,
the Colonel is shocked and surprised to discover that the Zvika force is just a single tank,
Zvi hadn’t informed him for fear of revealing his weakness to the enemy.
Regardless, Zvi joins him just as the units receive an emergency transmission from Nafah base.
An enemy battalion is about to fall upon them.
Nafah is defended by reservists, a handful of anti-tank units, and staff manning the defensive fortifications.
Against them is an overwhelming force, an entire battalion fully equipped with tanks, infantry, and artillery.
When Zvi finally arrives a desperate battle is already raging
the concrete walls are full of holes and explosions tear through the defensive fortifications.
The Israeli tanks quickly join in the fray,
in near unison the line of battle tanks unleashes its firepower upon the invaders.
But the Syrians respond in kind.
The Israelis are fighting valiantly but they can’t do anything about the enemy’s raw numbers.
Many get wounded including Zvi.
Lieutenant Colonel David Israeli does his best organizing his rapidly diminishing force
until a T-62 takes aim at his vehicle, and fires.
The Colonel’s radio transmission abruptly cuts off,
his Centurion is burning upon the rolling hills of the Israeli countryside.
Brigade commander Yitzhak Ben-Shoham takes command of the force and attempts to continue the attack,
but he too is tragically silenced not long after.
Amidst it all Zvi continues to push on to the besieged base.
The gunner hits target after target until they get into cover to reload.
Zvi takes his radio and calls to his fellow tankers to reinforce him, but nobody answers.
Concerned, he glances at the radio and tries again but to the same result.
It quickly hits him.
There’s nothing wrong with the radio, there is just no tankers left.
Unfazed, he instantly returns to his job.
They keep up the defense alone, maneuvering between the ruins of the base, they load.
Fire.
Load.
Fire.
Load.
Fire.
The men are working off of pure instinct,
fearlessly fighting back and making the Syrians pay dearly for each and every single step forward.
An unknown witness to the defense reported back to Israeli headquarters;
“there’s no one in the camp except a single tank fighting like mad.”
The enemy assault grinds to a halt under heavy casualties
and the Syrians resorts to artillery to take out the last of the defenders.
Heavy bombardment falls upon what’s left of Nafah base.
The shockwaves of the explosions rattle Zvi, but his resolve remains unmoved,
him and his crew are determined to stay and fight.
But then a message comes through the radio.
The military base of Aliqua calls for aid.
Upon his arrival to Aliqua he is relieved to discover it was just a false alarm
Out of danger the adrenaline wears off and the physical and mental exhaustion crashes upon Zvi.
He climbs out of his war machine and collapses onto the floor, the tears beginning to stream down his cheeks.
He declares
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Major Moshe Zurich, the new commander of the 188th brigade after the loss of Yitzhak,
orders Zvi to be carried to the field hospital.
Zvi Greengold had spent almost 30 consecutive hours in a tank,
during which he is known to have destroyed at least 20 Syrian machines.
His superiors believe the true number to be closer to 40, and higher estimates put it closer to 60.
He would spend a few days in the hospital before rejoining his brigade in battle.
He received the highest military award for his incredible actions on that fateful day,
the Israeli Medal of Valor, and was one of only of 8 Yom-Kippur War veterans to receive it.
Zvi survived the war and went on to become a successful businessman and local politician,
he remains humble about his feats, stating
“There are men alive and dead, who did wonderful things we don’t even know about.
The men on the line did exceptional things and I pale by comparison.”
Zvi is still alive today.
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