look at each other in amazement. I rub my eyes. Slowly our face muscles relax.
The people on the road stare at us. We are covered in dust, our faces radiant, the machine guns pointing upwards, our cartridge belts gleaming.
For the jeep teams there was no ceasefire. We had a lot to do: test the enemy lines along the front, probe the enemy’s preparedness for the next round in "aggressive patrols," put pressure on the Arab villages east of the Hulda-Kfar Menachem line.
Routine patrol
Our orders were to patrol the ceasefire line and test the troop strength of the Arabs. When we run into Arabs, to provoke a con-frontation.
We mount the weapons on the jeeps and are ready. At the last moment I am appointed radio operator, to maintain communica-tion between the jeep commander and Aher Asherov, the platoon commander. Three jeeps set out. That might sound like a small unit, but the firepower is enormous.
The jeep leaps along the road like a frisky foal. We hang on to the machine gun mounts. I hug the radio as if it were a baby. Within a few minutes we are moving in a cloud of white dust. Hardly anyone has the goggles we need, and we can see almost nothing. The dust gets up your nose, in your mouth, and into your ears. Shalom, who is in the jeep in front, has tied a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. We all follow suit.
"Hello Hagar One - message for Hagar Two - Over ..." It’s Reuven Huber’s first time with a radio. We don’t actually need any code names because we are only using two radios. But I don’t want to spoil his fun.
"Hello Hagar Two - message for Hagar One - how do you like the dust? Over..."
"Hello Hager One - Ruth - out"
We have now reached the border area and are following the dividing line. We know this area from earlier deployments. Every hill