right. We didn’t go this way last time. The distance between the tracks and the wadi is too short. The banks of the riverbed are very steep here. It takes time to cross them. The seconds stretch like rub-her. The gaps are growing between the individual soldiers, the units could lose eye-contact with each other. Those in front don’t notice and walk on at normal speed. This is the classical mistake in a night operation. It has already cost many victims and will continue to do so in the future.

Someone behind shouts to us to halt. We can’t do that without 10s-ing contact with those ahead. What to do? Jerach sends me ahead to the company commander. The radio operator is there. He should order the units at the head to halt. I run ahead and look for the antenna of the radio. Asher Dromi, who is in command of the oper-ation today, must be with him. While I am running I notice that a hand grenade has come loose from my belt and fallen to the ground. I bend down to pick it up. The devil take ...

rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat...

I automatically drop to the ground. Someone falls on top of me. "Damn ..." I start, but stop in the middle of the sentence. The man is moving strangely. I realize he must be wounded.

"Medic!" I call quietly. That is an alarm call in combat. One medic is directly behind me. He crawls forwards. The wounded man was hit in the back. It is Yaakov Rachmilevitch, the company medic. He was hit at exactly the moment I bent down for the hand grenade. If I had-n’t bent down ...

We were now under heavy enemy fire: at least one machine gun, several handguns, and any number of rifles. The bullets whistled over our heads and all around us. I press my head against the ground and dig holes with my hands and feet. Did we run into an ambush? No. We simply marched into the middle of the enemy position.

The whole company is lying on the ground. Bullets are hailing down. But I have a task, I have to be with the platoon commander. I get up and run, crouching, toward the rear. But my section is not lying on the ground. The men are sprinting back to the wadi. I man-age to find Jerach running and follow him. The Arabs are still shoot-ing with all they’ve got. But they are now aiming in the wrong direction. The bullets are now flying past us to the right.

We have reached the wadi. The bank is as sheer as a wall. We sit on

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