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AT THEIR BASE JUST south of Jerusalem, 1194 tanks of the Royal Jordanian Armored Corps are lined up like a child’s toy army, but one with the greatest destructive potential of any armored force in the Middle East: 400 upgraded British Challenger I tanks, 250 updated British Chieftains, the remainder modernized US M60s. As their commander’s olive-green Rolls Royce Silver Shadow Landaulette begins slowly to roll past, each tank commander starts his engine, so that what begins as a single roar gathers cumulative force until the noise is so great it is as if the roar of engines is all, the massive 1500 and 1200 cc motors creating their own universe of percussive sound. But as the command vehicle rolls by to take the salute of the tank crews arrayed precisely in V formation in front of their tanks, not one tankist is ignorant of the fact that it is not Ticky Pasha standing in the open back of the Rolls but his second in command. The superstitious Bedouin tank crews know that Ticky Pasha has never not been there to take their salute before an attack. In the dark cloud rising from the smoke of burning diesel, many wonder what this portends.