Yellow sand, endless yellow sand, steaming with intense heat waves under the scorching sun at noon. In Iraq, a land that has been plowed repeatedly by war, even the air is filled with the smell of gunpowder smoke and rust. The hood of the US military Humvee distorted the scene in the heat wave. Nick Bailey wiped the hot sweat on his forehead. The back of the camouflage uniform was already soaked and stuck to his skin, sticky and itchy. He squinted his eyes and glanced across the monotonous earth-yellow horizon outside the car window, and finally fell back on the parchment in his hand that was softened by sweat.
