moshav of Za’arit. We equipped Yon1’s force with a pair of Land Rovers in Lebanese army colors and had them hide overnight in the moshav’s orchards, a hundred yards from the road on the Lebanese side of the frontier. The next morning, when we got confirmation the convoy was on its way, they crossed and stationed themselves on the road, lifted the hood of one of the vehicles and made as if they were trying to repair engine trouble. Both the blocking forces were in half-tracks with heavy machine-guns in case the convoy chose to stand and fight. What we didn’t count on was a Lebanese driver, ina VW Beetle as I recall, puttering along the road shortly after Yoni’s team crossed. The man waved at them. Quite rightly, Yoni let him drive on. Along with the other obvious reasons not to fire on a civilian VW, he didn’t want to alert the Syrians and their hosts there was danger ahead. But the Lebanese motorist, as well as a group of nearby farmers, were suspicious enough to deliver a warning that there were a couple of stalled Land Rovers on the side of the road. The convoy halted shortly after passing Mookie’s force, hidden in a field a few dozen yards away. Had I not been in the command post, I’m pretty sure what would have happened next. The mission would have been called off. This time, I was the one in direct contact with all three teams. Even before I gave the order, Yoni had anticipated it. He and Uzi turned west to confront the convoy. In a brief initial exchange of gunfire, one of Uzi’s men was wounded, not seriously, in the leg. But with Mookie’s team firing from behind and Yoni’s and Uzi’s men in front, the convoy was trapped, and the Syrians captured. The safest way back into Israel would have been the way the force had entered. But Yoni and Uzi realized the main imperative was to get the Syrians out as quickly as possible. At a not-inconsiderable cost to a pair of American limousines, Uzi drove each of them, with a total of five Syrian officers, through a bould