The convoy twists along, a stammering band of civilian cars, jeeps, military ambulances, tanks, and huge bulldozers on the backs of transporters. Her taxi triver is quiet and gloomy. His hand rests on the Mercedes’s gearshift and his thick neck does not move. For several long minutes he has looked neither at her or at Ofer. As soon as Ofer sat down in the cab, he let out an angry breath and flashed a look that said: Not the smartest idea, Mom, asking this particular driver to come along on a trip like this.