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was one upside. The storm having reduced visibility to a matter of tens of meters, no watching “enemy” would be able to see them, and that in turn meant that Grey could risk using a GPS. The faint glow thrown off by the gizmo’s screen was invisible in such conditions.
    Earlier that day Grey had studied the maps closely and inputted a waymarked route into his military-issue GPS, one that would lead them to their objective. He punched in the relevant instructions and the GPS spun up to speed, mapping out the route ahead. Using that, and keeping a close watch on his compass as a backstop, he was able to press onward. But the wagons following behind had to bunch up much closer together to maintain visual contact.
    One of the golden rules of mobility driving is that you should never enter a patch of difficult terrain or try to move across an obstacle before the vehicle in front has cleared it. Otherwise, several wagons could get trapped at the point of greatest difficulty.
    Grey navigated the Squadron into a steep-sided wadi, and Moth found himself trying to exit via a near-vertical track that led out of the far side. With all the food, water, fuel, and ammo aboard, evenin four-wheel drive the wagon got only two-thirds of the way out before it slipped and skidded its way back down, its engine howling like a thing possessed and its wheels spinning horribly. Within seconds the dry riverbed was filled with the acrid smell of burning rubber, and then the second and the third wagon came rumbling in behind them. It was only by chance that a major pileup was avoided.
    Moth only managed to find a way out of the wadi when he stumbled across an easier exit point, and at least by then the worst of the sandstorm had blown over. They pushed onward and Grey navigated the Squadron right to its very objective. They had made it through the heart of the raging storm, and there was a massive sense of achievement to have done so.
    The men ended that exercise with a “Chinese parliament”—a Squadron-wide heads-up to which all could contribute ideas and suggestions. They’d toyed with the idea of driving in two-wheel drive when in Iraq, because it reduced fuel consumption and increased range. On firm, flat terrain two-wheel drive was all that was needed. But the experience of that night’s exercise had proved that you never knew when you might hit trouble, and keeping the wagons in four-wheel drive was vital.
    But that in turn meant that the weight the Pinkies were carrying had to be cut, so as to be able to carry more fuel—and about the only thing they could possibly consider losing was ammo. Yet, less ammo meant less firepower, which increased the risk of getting caught and smashed by the enemy. This was the eternal conundrum of vehicle mobility operations: how to maximize range, mobility, and firepower on a small four-wheel-drive vehicle.
    The Squadron rounded off their time in Kenya with a week’s high-altitude training, just in case they did end up heading into the more mountainous parts of Iraq. While no one doubted they were going to war—President Bush had already approved the deployment of 200,000 American troops to the Gulf—they didn’t have the faintest idea what their mission might be or over what kind of terrain they’d be operating. It made sense to prepare for everyeventuality, especially when the Squadron had such limited experience of overland operations.
    There was only one place to do mountain training in Kenya, and that was Mount Kenya itself—a 17,000-foot peak high enough to be permanently snowcapped even though it lies bang on the equator. The men drew specialist mountaineering equipment from the stores, including ropes, cold-weather gear, and rigid-soled rock-climbing boots. The ascent was done in four stages under crushing loads, each stage taking them to a higher altitude, then dropping lower overnight. This was in line with the concept of “climb-high, sleep-low,” designed to help the body adjust to