‘Whatever,’ Edie answered with another careless shrug. She appeared not remotely concerned. Growing up, in Edie’s mind, was something a girl simply had to do. Her Jill had had it pretty lucky so far.

Val was forced to give in. Jill would be permitted to attend the dances, a fact that delighted Betty.

‘We’ll watch each other’s backs, Val,’ Betty breezily assured her, ‘we always do. It’ll be great fun.’

Am I the only one out of step here, Val wondered.

At Kelso, the burgeoning unrest and dissatisfaction was taking its toll on one man possibly more than others. Chuck Maxwell did not have the incentive his troops had in the building of the Negro Servicemen’s Club. In fact, the creation of the club was a source of such irritation to Chuck that he found himself plagued by an ever-increasing sense of injustice. How dare these niggers be offered the same rights afforded a white man! A club of their very own? Women to dance with? A brothel?

The more Chuck dwelt upon the subject, the more his irritation became anger and the more he seethed. He was witnessing the desecration of a system he’d known all his life, a system based upon racial superiority. Niggers were here to serve, not be pampered. This presumption of an equality that did not exist disgusted him.

And the greater the build-up of pressure in Chuck, the more he took it out on Private Anthony Hill. As if to preserve his very sanity, Chuck Maxwell needed the release of a whipping boy.

Kasey Davis was witness to one such episode. Coming upon the scene, he watched unobserved from some distance as Maxwell goaded Ant.

Having ordered him to stand to attention, Chuck was now physically circling the young man, calling him names, deriding him mercilessly. Nothing new about that, Kasey thought, Chuck Maxwell often addressed men this way, shaming them for some supposed misdemeanour, usually of his own invention. And Ant was taking it all, staring directly ahead, ensuring he made no eye contact with his white officer. Nothing new about that either, Kasey thought, most men reacted that way, particularly those from the south. It irked him to see Strut Stowers though, standing nearby, impassive; a traitor to your own kind, Kasey thought with loathing.

Then, having worked himself into a frenzy of vitriol, Maxwell shoved the young man in the back so forcefully Ant fell to his knees.

Just like the bastard did to me, Kasey thought. Any minute the gun will be drawn and held to Ant’s head. He stepped forward. And that’s when Stowers spied him.

Stowers didn’t appear to say anything, but even from some distance, Kasey could see he’d sent a definite signal to Maxwell, probably just a look or a gesture, but warning enough.