Each was now more than six miles deep. And we now held all the forts of the Bar-Lev line except two, the furthest north and the furthest south, though the latter was encircled and certain to fall soon. The weak point in our lines was the 20-25 mile gap (roughly corresponding to the eastern shores of the Bitter Lakes) which remained between the two army bridgeheads. Moving sideways to bridge this and link the two armies would have to be carefully done. Most of the gap was outside the protection of our SAM batteries.

The enemy had used Sunday to equal purpose. Hundreds of tanks had moved into Sinai. The 300 destroyed in his three forward armored brigades had been replaced, though the brigades' casualties had been such that it would take some days to restore them as fighting units.

Five wholly fresh armored brigades had also poured into Sinai. By this Monday morning, the enemy had reorganized into three groups:
 
 

In number our forces looked equal enough. The enemy's eight armored brigades had 960 tanks: Centurion, M- 48 and M- 60, all with the 105mm gun as main armament. We had 1,000 tanks: 200T- 62s with 115mm guns: 500 T- 54s and T- 55s with 100mm, 280 T- 34 with 85mm, 20 T-76 amphibious tanks with 76mm. The truth behind these figures was that the enemy now had considerable superiority.

There were three reasons. The first was that in open country none of our tanks except the T- 62 could match the enemy's 105mm gun. The second was our continuing weakness in the air. Tanks without air-cover are sitting ducks. The third reason was that to bolster our infantry in the initial assault our armored formations had been dispersed among them. Half our tanks were organized in battalions of 31 tanks apiece and permanently attached to infantry brigades. The other half were in brigades of 100 tanks and temporarily attached to infantry divisions until they were able to make their own defenses impenetrable to armored counter-attack. Our armor had little chance to maneuver. The enemy could use their tanks as tanks; ours were self-propelled anti-tank guns. This was, in no way due to ignorance on our part. It was deliberate policy to cover our own weaknesses and deny the enemy benefit of their strengths.

Over the next two days this paid even more handsomely than we had expected, thanks to the enemy's slowness to learn. We had assumed they would swiftly realize our tactics. We had also foreseen their best response: to take advantage of their mobility to concentrate against one of our sectors an armored force big enough to break through a single bridgehead. (We had worked our responses we thought would defeat that strategy, of course; but it remained the enemy's best policy.) To our amazement, as Monday morning wore on, it became clear the enemy was instead making the cardinal error of frittering their resources.

That morning an armored brigade attacked 18th Division lines, while another brigade attacked 2nd Division. Both attacks were broken. On Monday afternoon, the same futile pattern. Two armored brigades launched a concerted attack against 2nd Division in the direction of al-Firdan. Another brigade moved against 16th Division in the direction of Deversoir. The attack against 2nd Division was totally annihilated. Their losses against 16th Division were only slightly less heavy.

As I drove to the front early that morning, however, those attacks had not begun and we were anticipating something altogether more serious and concentrated. I drove first to Second Army HQ, thence to 2nd Division, then on down to Third Army HQ, ending my tour by visiting 7th Division. I was heartened to see the morale of the men. Many had not slept for two nights but, as ever, victory was a tonic. As I drove by, many of them, referring to my orders for the crossing, waved and shouted: "Directive 41, we did it" and "Directive 41, marvelous guide."

Striding around his advanced HQ, the Commander of 2nd Division, Brigadier Hasan Abuw Sa`da, shared his men's spirits. He was confident that, elated by what they had already achieved, they could beat off any attack the enemy might mount. Buoyed by his optimism, I spared myself the luxury of a few minutes to redeem a private promise. Peering across at the enemy fort we called Ismailia East the previous Friday-seventy hours, a lifetime ago-I had promised myself I would visit it when it was in our hands. Brigadier Sa`da's men had taken it a few hours before I arrived. What a strange feeling it gave to enter it at last. "Alhamdu Lillah, Allahu Akbar" -"Thanks be to God, God is the Greatest"-I said as I stepped through its gates.

Only a few hundred yards to the south lay four tragic reminders of the price of such victories. Four of our tanks destroyed in error by our own forces. The incident had happened only a few hours before. The 2nd Division and 16th Division had been closing the last gap between them. A platoon of three tanks from 2nd Division was nosing south; a similar force from 16th Division was heading north. Cresting a ridge, they came face to face at 500 yards. Their reflexes were so heightened that all six opened fire instantaneously. Two of the three tanks on each side got direct hits. It was a tragic tribute to their battle skills. The survivors, alas, were shattered. (The survivors in such cases very often need psychiatric help. The sense of guilt is too great to be borne.)

As I drove south past the Lakes, the roads steadily clogged as we approached 7th Division's main bridge until, 300 yards back, the jam was solid. I got out and walked, to find the 7th Division Commander, Brigadier Badawiy, at the bridge. We carried on in his car. It was soon apparent that in this southern sector, despite Sunday's lull, things had not yet stabilized. We came upon a lieutenant with his platoon of tanks, quite alone and with no idea where the rest of his unit was. We found infantrymen out of food and water, some even walking back to the west bank to fill their flasks. Most of the trouble could be traced back to our inability to operate bridges (due to mud and water current problems) in 19th Division's sector further south. The result was that 7th Division's already crowded bridges were overloaded with 19th Division's traffic as well.

This could be sorted out. But the state of our bridges became of real concern, indeed, after I spoke with the chief engineers of the Second and Third Armies. In the assault we had laid ten heavy bridges (the two in the southern sector were laid but not operating) and kept only two in reserve. After the crossing was complete we had withdrawn one heavy bridge from each division and put it into reserve. I now learned, however, that enemy air strikes had damaged so many of our bridge sections that we had lost the equivalent of three complete bridges. We were reduced to four bridges in reserve.

There was no immediate crisis. But we had to think of weeks, even months, of battle ahead. If the enemy should fly wave after wave against our bridges that would undoubtedly cost their air force dearly. But equally undoubtedly some would get through.

It suddenly occurred to me that we could lay three virtually impregnable bridges over the canal if we just tipped rock and sand into the water. The chief engineer of the Third Army, the first expert I saw after having the idea, was positive it could be done. When I asked how long it would take I was amazed when he said, given enough bulldozers, a week. It was late afternoon as I drove back to Center Ten, cheered by what I had seen, confident our strategy was working, but certain we needed those causeways as soon as possible.