“What the hell is going on?” I replied, in a mix of a shout and a whisper

“What the hell is going on?” I replied, in a mix of a shout and a whisper, since I knew the convoy was getting closer. But within a minute, we spotted the lead Land Rover, which was soon past us on the way up to the ridge. It was followed by two large American cars, with the Syrian officers, and then a trailing security vehicle. It was too late. I was fuming. The convoy had passed within a couple of yards of us, moving slowly because of the incline. But, regaining my composure, | realized we’d get another opportunity, when the officers returned from their inspection visit. We now knew exactly how the convoy was deployed, and with any luck, the security men would be less alert by the end of the day. Even better, it would be beginning to get dark, perfect conditions for the ambush. But as we were waiting, Amit radioed me with a question from from Dado and Motta. “Where’s the armored car?” It’s still there, at the bottom of the road, I told them. “But there’s nothing it can do.” Bibi and his team had it in their sights. I considered not telling Amit what happened a few minutes later: a Lebanese shepherd, with a half-dozen sheep, stumbled on us. One of Uzi’s men, fluent in Arabic, tied the startled man’s arms behind his back, scattered the sheep, and told him: “It’s fine. Another hour or so, we’ll be gone, and we’ll let you go.” It turned out to be less than an hour. Forty-five minutes. During which, not once but twice, Amit told us that Dado and Motta were worried: about the armored car and now about the shepherd. I assured him everything was fine. We'd do the operation. The guys in the armored car would be helpless. If all went well, they might not even know we’d intercepted the convoy. The shepherd, like us, was just waiting for it to be over so we could all go home. Minutes later, Amit called again. He told us the convoy was on its way down. But barely 60 seconds later, he said: “It’s off. Don’t do it. Dado told me to repeat it twice so you’d understand: do not do the operation.” When we got back to the command post, not only were Dado and Motta there. Since Motta was within days of leaving to become Israel’s military attaché in Washington, they’d been joined by his successor as head of the northern command, Yitzhak Hofi. Three times, I suggested to Dado that we speak without my officers present. I did not feel it was nght to have Uzi, Mookie and Bibi hear me the generals how I felt. But Dado insisted there was no reason for them to leave. “This is a serious issue,” I said, trying to keep my emotions in check. “What happened out there is unacceptable. An effective special-forces unit cannot operate this way. For the second time in a week, you’ve made us stop an 130 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_011601