The desert is never as hot as you think it is. It is far, far worse.
Perkins remembers being shown photographs during his training by soldiers returned from their tour of duty, but it is one thing being shown pictures and being told about it, and vastly another standing in the middle of it. The photos don't show the feeling of sweat sticking your clothes to the skin, of the ever present dampness that gets stuck under the straps of your equipment, or the burning touch of anything metallic left out for even only a few minutes, from the side of a truck to the side of your own rifle.
The brightness was a problem too. Even with sunglasses the sun glared off the pale earth and the small houses that seemed to grow out of the ground they stood upon. It made entering them difficult, whether scouting out an abandoned building or being invited into a home, the inside as dark as night until your eyes adjusted to the cooler darkness.
The people were nice, or at least those not shooting at them or burying explosives on the road were, though they were understandingly weary at first but soon became welcoming and friendly, despite the language barrier. Perkins didn't know how they could live their entire lives under the unrelenting heat, but he surmised they didn't know any different. They would probably wonder how he could cope living in the UK, with its rain and fog and scattering of comparatively weak sun.
The sun had its good points too, if you knew where to look. Hagman ("that's Dan to you, young lad") could mould his shadow into many animals, to the delight of the local children. Perkins, who had to admit he wasn't far out of childhood himself, enjoyed it too. And Harris's party trick was to rip a page out of his notebook and set it alight using the lens of his glasses.
It wasn't so bad, this alien landscape, when you had friends by your side. Sure, his new brothers-in-arms were far different from any he had known in his previous life before the army, but they were quickly warming towards the newcomer in their midst. Even Lieutenant Sharpe, rumoured to be a fearsome character, quick to anger and use his fists, wasn't as bad as he had feared. Still a bit scary, but he never seemed to use his rank as power over the men under him. Far better than the bullies at school.
All in all he was happy to be under the burning sun. This life was turning out better than the one he had left behind.