we drive in the opposite direction. After quarter of an hour we dis-cover a compacted sand road. Albert stops again, switches on his flash lamp, examines the map.

"Where are we?" asks Hadad. "God knows" answers Albert. "I don’t." It is two o’clock in the morning.

Slowly we realize: we have lost our way. We - eight men in two jeeps - are somewhere in the south of the country, either in our own area or in one under Arab control.

"What do you suggest?" asks Asher. "How do we get out of here without a compass?" Asher Asherov got his military training in the British Army. He is good at organizing things, but doesn’t have much of a sense of direction. Albert Mandler, on the other hand, the youth from Ramat Gan,7 blond and blue-eyed, grew up in Gadna.8 He is a genius at finding his way around the battlefield. And he is blessed with a healthy self-confidence. "There are the stars," he answers.

The truth is, there are not many stars. In front of us there are two stars to be seen, that I recognize as belonging to Cassiopeia. But Reuven Huber, who is sitting behind the machine gun in the second jeep, has settled on another star in exactly the opposite direction. And there is no discussing with him. He is as stubborn as a mule. Albert wants to rely on me. Asher supports Reuven. And the others too, who never in their lives observed a single star, join in the discus-sion. Everyone chooses his own star and swears that that is Cassiopeia. The discussion might have been amusing, if only our lives hadn’t depended on the outcome.

We drive. Every few minutes we stop and look around. On this level plain you can’t recognize anything. Again we come to a wadi. Again we cross it. But no one knows if it is a new wadi, or one we have crossed twenty times already this night. Someone starts to complain to Albert. We shut him up immediately. Of course we know the situ-ation we are in. But we also know that grumbling and moaning will get us nowhere.

I look at my watch. It is three o’clock. We have been driving for four hours. Now Albert gives up too. To our right he spots a wheat field and suggests we wait here till the morning. We all agree. We park the jeeps between the tall stalks, remove the high machine guns, and camouflage the mountings. Albert and Asher take their rifles and disappear into the darkness - they want to reconnoiter the area.

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