The path of the burning sun traced its slow, steady arc across the dome of the pale sky as the hours went by. Nothing else changed, except the gradual morphing of the landscape as the endless miles rolled on. They crossed a zone the breadth of a medium-sized English county where the rocky ground gave way to desert sand and the terrain levelled out into rolling arid hills and dunes, the faraway peaks growing hazy in the distance. Nothing seemed to live here at all, with not enough moisture in the ground to sustain even the coarsest, hardiest scrub vegetation. Here and there, sandstorms had filled in deep crevasses, into which a heavy vehicle could lurch without warning and get badly stuck. The Humvee was generally able to roll over them, with a combination of skill and momentum, but the much larger, weightier truck, even with its rugged six-wheel drive transmission, was out of its depth in this terrain. The first time it happened, with Wolf driving, it took them almost an hour to dig the wheels out of the sand and get the truck moving again with the help of recovery tracks and a tow rope attached to the Humvee. The second time, this time with Nobby at the wheel, a jagged rock hidden under the loose sand blew out a front tyre, causing another delay while they struggled to change the half-buried wheel with no firm footing for a trolley jack. Back in motion again, all eyes were on the fuel gauges, with the contents of their spare jerrycans getting dangerously low. It was another reminder of the many ways this place could kill you. Even modern-day armies still had to worry about feeding the baggage train beasts. If they got stuck out here in this arid emptiness, they’d all be dead within a couple of days.