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LIVING THE DREAM

We are roaring along at 250 kilometres an hour, about five metres above ground level in the Iraqi desert. I am sitting on the outermost seat in the transport helicopter, feeling the heat of the motor exhaust against my left arm.

The night is black, but I have a clear view of the vast, flat landscape. It is dotted with bright spots created by the gas flares of countless oil refineries. Inside the cabin sit seven other Jaegers. The hollows of their eyes glow green through the faint light of night vision goggles. As always, they look calm and relaxed.