the fact that one of our new neighbors was a friend from my first military intelligence stint in the kirva. In almost paralyzing pain, Nava phoned him, and he rushed her to the hospital. It turned out that the doctor who delivered Anat had left part of the placenta inside. Once the mistake was discovered — as I was again speeding north — he went back in and rectified it. When I arrived, I was relieved, to put it mildly, to find Nava smiling bravely, and on her way back to full health. Still, doctor friends of mine told me that if the problem not been diagnosed and addressed quickly, she could have suffered shock, serious infection, even death. * * * In my new role, I was nominally responsible to both the defense minister and the chief of staff, but Arik made it clear to both me and Raful that he was boss. And though my official brief was longer-term planning, almost from day-one the issue of Lebanon overshadowed all others. I knew, from Cinerama, that preparations for a possible military operation in Lebanon were underway. Yet from my first meeting with Arik and Raful, it became clear it was more than just a possibility. “Why the hell is Arafat still alive,” Arik snapped at us. He said that when he’d been commander of Unit 101, he’d never waited for the government to ask him to plan an operation. He’d plan it himself, and go to ministers for approval. When I told him that I’d done just that when I was commander of the sayeret, only to be told Arafat was “not a target,” Arik replied: well, he is now. The PLO leader’s current residence was on the southern edge of Beirut, and in the weeks ahead Arik left no doubt that he meant to go after him there. To anyone looking from the outside, there was no pressing reason to expect a war. It is true that the potential for conflict was always there. The PLO had nearly 20,000 fighters in Lebanon and hundreds of rockets capable of reaching our northern towns and settlements. The Syrians were there, too. As part of an Arab Leagu