Though provided with a number of mobile SAM-6 antiaircraft missiles, the Egyptian high command intended to stay within slant range of their SAM-2 and SAM-3 batteries, which remained in position west of the canal. Just how far this would allow them to advance is not clear; it cannot have been much more than six to seven miles. There they intended to consolidate and defend, the objective being—as in 1969-1970—to set in motion a political process that would lead to the liberation of the Sinai. To make sure that they would be able to carry out even this limited plan the Egyptians coordinated their offensive with the Syrians. Rather less is known about Syrian intentions. Assuming they read the New York Times along with everybody else, however, it is likely they did not plan an advance into Israel proper but would be content with recapturing much or most of the Golan.
Presided over by Hafez Assad (who had taken power in October 1970 in a coup), the Syrians built up a formidable array of forces between Damascus and the 1967 cease-fire line. Ultimately there were to be five divisions of which three were mechanized and two armored; in addition there were several independent brigades, including one sent over by the king of Morocco. The approximately 1,300 tanks and 600 artillery pieces were covered by some 400 antiaircraft guns and more than 200 batteries of antiaircraft missiles—to say nothing of the air force’s 300 or so combat aircraft. Like the Egyptians, the Syrians intended to open the offensive with a brief but intense barrage using all means, including air strikes and heliborne raids. Like the Egyptians, too, they split their advance into two main efforts, divided by the hill known as Booster. While the armored divisions stood in reserve—one for each sector of the front—two mechanized divisions were to attack in the north, one in the south. The defenses having been breached, the reserves would be thrown in. On each of the two sectors one division was to drive straight down the slopes to the River Jordan bridges. One, the 9th, was to stay in place and hold the Israelis; the two remaining ones would wheel inward on the heights themselves, thus building a pocket to trap the Israelis.
In Israel the arms shipments from the USSR and the Arab buildup along its own borders did not go unnoticed.15 In particular, the spring of 1973 was characterized by nervousness; for example, Dayan on May 21 met with the “gentlemen of the General Staff” and ordered them “to be ready for War in June.”16 When that month came and went, however, the wind changed. In July the mercurial minister of defense was telling Time that no “large” war was likely during the next ten years and that, as a result, Israel’s borders would remain frozen.17 Should the Arabs decide to attack nevertheless, then the chief of military intelligence felt sure in his ability to present the government with the requisite advance warning. This in turn would enable the IDF to mobilize its reserves and deploy them on the canal and the Golan Heights. There, according to one general, it would repulse the offensive “in no time.”18
Whether or not it had been planned that way by the Arabs, two incidents that took place in September tended to reinforce that assessment and distract attention away from the gathering storm. One grew out of a routine photo reconnaissance mission flown by the IAF over the Golan Heights on September 13; contrary to their habit the Syrians sent up Migs to intercept, and in the ensuing air-to-air battle thirteen Syrian planes and one Israeli plane were shot down.19 The other was a terrorist attack against a train carrying Soviet Jewish immigrants from the Czech border to a transit camp at Schoenau, Austria. The Austrian government reacted by closing the camp—which in turn induced Ms. Meir to fly to Austria at the end of September in an unsuccessful attempt to make Chancellor Bruno Kreisky change his mind.20
By this time Israel’s system of media self-censorship had begun to backfire. To be sure, the Arab buildup on both fronts did not escape notice. Feeling confident that the Arabs were incapable of going to war, however, Israeli military intelligence continued to misread the signs; the media, voluntarily refraining from publishing the news,21 helped the IDF in its own assessment and put the public to sleep. The Syrian deployment was interpreted as a precautionary move against an Israeli attack,22 whereas the Egyptian troop concentration was mistaken—as Shazly had intended it to be23—for another routine exercise that took place every year.24 Still, on September 26 Dayan and Elazar felt nervous. Orders were given for an additional 4,000 mines to be laid, and four miles of antitank ditches dug, on the Golan Heights. The order of battle was doubled by flying up men of the crack 7th Armored Brigade and marrying them with tanks in storage; when war came the IDF on that front deployed almost 200 tanks divided between two brigades. While there was no last-minute attempt to reinforce the Bar Lev line, on that front too additional crews were brought in, raising the number of tanks available for immediate action to 300.
More meetings of the IDF General Staff, with Dayan present, took place on October 4 and 5. Each time the warning signs were more ominous, including, besides the state of alert that had been declared in the Arab armies and the vast military buildup revealed by continuing photo reconnaissance, the sudden withdrawal of dependents of Soviet military personnel from Egypt and Syria.25 Still, the chief of intelligence, opinionated as ever, withheld critical evidence in his possession26 and insisted that “the Egyptians and Syrians are not going to attack but are afraid of us.”27 Misled by his subordinate, Elazar did no more than order some additional precautions. On both fronts, all leave was canceled. For the first time since 1967, State of Readiness “C” was declared; all arrangements for the prompt mobilization of men and materiel were now in place. Last but not least, the air force was put on full alert and told to prepare for launching a preemptive strike if required. Yet when the last meeting dispersed at 1230 hours on October 5, the participants felt that a total of just under 500 tanks available on both fronts were enough to repel any aggression;28 indeed Elazar wondered whether he overreacted in proclaiming the state of alert.
At 0430 hours on October 6, according to Ms. Meir’s military secretary, Yisrael Lior, he was awakened by a phone call.29 The voice on the other side, a senior intelligence official, announced that “this evening Egypt and Syria will start a war.” At 0800 Golda met with Galili, Allon, Dayan, and Elazar. The last two had already met; failing to agree on the measures to be taken, they left the final decision to Ms. Meir. The two most important issues were the number of reserves to mobilize—whether to mobilize was no longer an issue—and whether to launch a preemptive strike. A gray-faced Ms. Meir overruled Dayan and on Elazar’s advice decided that the IDF mobilize all reserves, four divisions rather than only two. Political considerations caused her to reject the chief of staff’s demand that the IAF launch an immediate preemptive strike against the Arab airfields and antiaircraft defenses. Since then the question of whether such a strike might have changed the face of the war has often been debated. War is a continuation of policy by other means, however, and given Israel’s financial and military dependence on the United States, both decisions were definitely correct.
The day the Arabs selected—for their own reasons, those being the state of the moon and tides in the Suez Canal30—also happened to be Yom Kippur. Normally this is a day of eerie quiet; those who do not pray in synagogue fast at home, and there is no vehicular traffic in the streets. However, at around 0800 hours the peace was interrupted by a pair of Phantom fighters roaring over central Israel, alerting the population that something unusual was afoot. Since broadcasting services had been closed for the day the call-up had to be carried out by teams of soldiers going house to house. At the time, much was made of the “perfidious” nature of the Arab attack, taking place as it did on the holiest of holy days. In fact that timing probably accelerated mobilization, given that everybody could be found at home or in the immediate neighborhood and that there was no traffic clogging the roads.
But the Egyptians and Syrians never gave the IDF time to complete mobilization. At 1400 they opened fire, the hour being a compromise, the two partners attacking from different directions yet each wanting the sun to be in the enemy’s eyes. On both fronts the offen
sive was covered by battery upon battery of antiaircraft missiles and guns. On both fronts it opened with air strikes as well as tremendous artillery barrages. But owing to a combination of geographical circumstance and the different objectives Sadat and Assad set their armies, that is where the resemblance ended. In the south it was a question of methodical and deliberate advance by infantry and tanks toward a line that was to be held against counterattack. In the north, by contrast, the Syrians planned to overrun as much of the Golan as possible as fast as possible and accordingly went for a classic offensive operation spearheaded by armor.
On the Egyptian front, the first shots found the IDF in a state of manifest unreadiness (see Map 13.1). When Elazar replaced Bar Lev at the end of 1971, the debate concerning the best way to defend the Sinai was renewed. In the absence of agreement a new compromise was struck: Out of thirty-one meozim along the canal about half were closed, leaving the front line occupied by no more than 450 or so troops. To reinforce them a second line of defense—using positions known as taozim and located some ten miles in the rear—was constructed. They in turn were linked by the so-called artillery road, a north-to-south artery for moving reserves laterally along the front. The mobile forces consisted of a reinforced armored division with three brigades in all. Of those one was in readiness approximately twenty miles behind the canal; from there it could link up with the meozim. Still fearing to provoke the Egyptians, however, Gonen on the morning of October 6 misunderstood or disobeyed an order to deploy a second brigade along the lateral road.31 Instead, both his remaining brigades remained at Bir Gafgafa, far in the rear. As a result, the Egyptians’ crossing was resisted by exactly three tanks; the early counterattacks were mounted with one brigade rather than two.
The IDF’s plan for repelling an invasion was known as “Shovach Yonim (Dovecote)” and had been rehearsed many times.32 It assumed forty-eight hours’ warning, enough time to enable the armored forces in the Sinai to take up forward positions in support of the meozim while the reserves arrived. Next, using as their base one of the special marshaling yards that had been constructed out of earth along the canal and relying on ferries as well as specially developed bridging equipment, they were to cross to the other side. In the event the forty-eight-hour warning did not materialize. Given the fact that the canal is separated from Israel by more than 100 miles of desert, the IDF could easily have afforded to let the Egyptians advance until they were beyond antiaircraft missile range. However, such a course would have implied abandoning the meozim. It also ran counter to the IDF’s plans—which did not envisage surrendering any territory—not to mention its instincts.
Thus, during the first few hours Gonen’s objective (which he sought to attain with one brigade instead of two as originally planned) was to reestablish the situation that, if warning had been served and if everything had gone according to plan, ought to have served as the starting point for the crossing operation. At first he tried to command the battle from as far away as Beer Sheva, but even when he had advanced his headquarters to Um Hasheiba, some twenty-five miles east of the canal, he still could not obtain a clear picture of unfolding events. At one per ten miles of front there was no question of the meozim performing their function as lookouts, to say nothing of men driven from observation posts by one of the heaviest artillery bombardments in modern history. Throwing themselves at the pontoon bridges the Egyptians were constructing across the canal, the IAF’s planes met with very heavy antiaircraft fire and were unable to bring back information.33 With no information about the Egyptian center of gravity, and distracted by the meozim’s desperate calls for help, Gonen’s tankers drove forward in dribs and drabs along the roads to the canal. The first to go were the tanks of the forward brigade; during the night they were joined by the two others. The Egyptian chiri biri (rotten infantry) was expected to run. Instead it stood its ground and “nailed”34 Israeli tanks—an unheard-of event that was somehow felt to be unfair. When morning dawned on October 7, all the meozim along the canal had already either fallen or been surrounded; two-thirds of the Israeli tanks originally in the Sinai had been lost. Gonen, however, was beginning to feel optimistic, given that the reserves were arriving faster than expected. He divided the front into three sectors, each to be occupied by an armored division: General Adan’s in the north, General Sharon’s in the center (both of these consisted of reservists), and General Mandler in the south with the remains of two regular armored brigades (the ones previously at Bir Gafgafa). Admittedly not all the reserve units were in top shape, Sharon’s tanks having driven all the way on their tracks and Adan’s arriving without organic artillery and after having been mauled by Egyptian commandos on the way from Al Arish.35 All were somewhat disorganized and suffered from shortages, including the vehicles carrying the technical and medical services.36 Still, and although his leading forces were situated some six miles to the rear of the starting positions they should have occupied to carry out Shovach Yonim, Gonen felt the time had come to think about a counterattack.
MAP 13.1 THE 1973 WAR, EGYPTIAN FRONT
During the afternoon the plan was worked out in a meeting among Elazar, Gonen, and Adan (Sharon arrived late and had to be briefed separately). 37 The dominant factor was the IDF’s lack of reserves: Between the canal and Tel Aviv there were no more than three divisions. Accordingly, instead of attacking with all forces united as classical armored doctrine would dictate, it was decided to proceed in echelon. While Mandler stood by, Adan was to attack early in the morning while Sharon joined later. Adan himself was not to attack from east to west, as Gonen’s regular brigades had the previous day; instead he was to proceed north to south, rolling up the Egyptians but staying two miles away from the earthen ramp on the west side of the canal, which was “swarming with [Egyptian] infantry equipped with antitank weapons.” Still, he was to rescue as many of the remaining meozim as possible. Arriving near the area known as Chamutal, about midway down the canal and just north of the Great Bitter Lake, he was to link up with Sharon. Together the two divisions were to effect a crossing.
How Adan could expect to stay out of range and rescue the meozim—let alone expect to cross the canal—remains a mystery. The plan was not clarified despite a series of conversations that took place that night; Dayan, Elazar, Tal (Elazar’s deputy), Gonen, Magen (Gonen’s deputy), Adan, and Sharon all contributed to increase the confusion by suggesting various alternatives and corrections.38 In the end, the only clear directive came from Elazar, who felt a lively distrust of his “wild” subordinates, Gonen and Sharon, and forbade a canal crossing without his prior permission. As we shall presently see, even that directive was destined to be violated, though admittedly only thanks to the overheated imagination of a junior IDF officer who was listening to the communications network.
At 0800 hours on October 8, Adan, supported by exactly four artillery barrels instead of the several dozen he should have had and receiving only a small fraction of the air support promised,39 started his advance from the area around Kantara. His men were farther away from the canal than they believed, however, and consequently made very good progress while meeting hardly any Egyptians. Arriving opposite Chamutal as agreed, they found the last of Sharon’s forces about to move away to the south—having been ordered to do so by Gonen for reasons that remain unclear today.40 Nevertheless Adan’s division performed its right turn and charged west toward the canal. Ordered not to cross without permission, Gonen, Adan, and Col. Natan Nir—who commanded Adan’s leading brigade—all took care to stay in the rear so they might stay in contact with superiors despite Egyptian interference with the radio network. Somehow rumor spread that a crossing had taken place—which, if true, would have been a violation of orders. While the chief of staff, in the middle of a Cabinet meeting, tried to find out what was going on, his subordinates “down south” lost control of their forces. Of the two battalions that attacked separately (instead of together, as armored doctrine would have dictated), the first was thrown back with heavy losses. Th
e second was all but annihilated; its commander, along with many of his men, was captured.41
Up until then Elazar and the rest, grossly underestimating the Egyptians (there was talk of “waving” them across the canal), had expected to win the war with comparative ease. The failure of the first counteroffensive plunged GHQ into gloom, however, and that evening a stunned public listened to Brigadier General (ret.) Yariv, the former intelligence chief, explain on radio and TV that this was a war and not a picnic. The defeat of October 8 was not the last. Having wasted the afternoon driving south in pursuit of some imaginary “disaster” that never took place,42 Sharon’s division returned to the area that evening. On the morning of October 9 one of his brigades tried its luck against Chamutal but met with the usual hail of antitank missiles and was repulsed with losses.43
On the positive side, that evening Sharon’s reconnaissance battalion was able to locate the seam between Egypt’s 3rd and 2nd Armies.44 Driving into it, it reached the canal just north of the Greater Bitter Lake without firing a shot. His tactical instincts aroused—he had always believed in taking the enemy from the rear—Sharon called Elazar’s deputy, Tal, and requested permission to cross.45 However, GHQ had been chastened by the previous day’s experience and wanted to wait until after the Egyptians had committed their armored reserves to the east bank. On the next day a frustrated Elazar sent out General Bar Lev to take charge of the southern front from Gonen, leaving the latter in place but reducing him to a figurehead. 46 With that the Egyptian front calmed down for a few days as events on the Golan took priority.
Although hampered by its decision to defend the meozim, the IDF in the Sinai possessed considerable room for strategic maneuver. This was much less true on the Golan Heights, which are nowhere more than twenty miles wide. Here, too, a chain of fifteen strongholds had been constructed along the purple (cease-fire) line. In the event the most important stronghold, located on Mount Chermon and containing a variety of electronic sensors, was captured during the first hours by Syrian commandos who arrived by helicopter. The rest were bypassed and, though none of them fell, played no further role in the war (see Map 13.2).
The Sword And The Olive Page 31