could see that a similar myopia, or denial, was affecting the armored corps. On patrol along the canal, I would sometimes see the hulk of an Israeli tank which had been destroyed by Soviet-made AT-3s. Known as Saggers, they were portable, allowing a single soldier to fire wire-guided missiles. Their range was nearly a mile-and-a-half, which was more than the main guns on our tanks. Yet no one appeared to have addressed the question of what would happen if the Egyptians used Saggers on an even greater scale in a future war. I remained in the Sinai through early 1971, but never led my tank company on combat operations. By the time we were due for our deployment, the War of Attrition was suddenly over. Neither we nor the Egyptians wanted a return to full-scale war. With Washington taking the lead, a cease-fire was agreed. Both sides claimed victory. But both were exhausted. Certainly, most Israelis had ceased to see a compelling reason for the 1,000 days of fighting. We had lost about 900 dead: more than in the Six-Day War. But in one respect, the Egyptians won. Under the terms of the truce, their anti-aircraft batteries were barred from a roughly 30-mile strip along the canal. Within days of the truce, however, Nasser began moving his SAM batteries forward. Before long, there were nearly 100 missile sites in the “prohibited” zone, giving the Egyptians control of 20 miles or more of the airspace on our side of the canal. Golda was incensed. So was Bar-Lev. But there was no way, and no will, to reopen the fighting and force Nasser to move the missiles back. The cease-fire took effect at midnight on August 7, 1970. ve never had trouble recalling the date, because of a phone call almost exactly 24 hours later. It was from my mother-in-law, to tell me Nava had gone into labor with our first child. Since I was due for deployment on the front line, we had agreed weeks earlier that the best thing would be for her to have the baby in Tiberias, so her parents could be with h