‘Who’s there?’ a voice called. A woman’s voice. ‘Who’s there?’ she demanded. And suddenly, the beam of a torch was turned directly upon him.

Thirty-five-year-old Norma Hodgeman, farmer’s wife and mother of two, was terror-struck. She let out an almighty scream. Right in front of her, looming out of the night, was a huge man, the biggest man she’d ever seen and he was coal-black, his sweat-glistening face caught in the fierce beam of her torch.

‘’Scuse me, ma’am,’ Amos Cole stretched out a reassuring hand, ‘I mean no harm, I just want …’

Norma screamed again. She was not normally a woman prone to panic, but the black man’s basso profundo voice seemed to come from the depths of some demonic place, and the hand reaching out for her was bloodied.

She dropped the torch and ran for her life, the dogs behind her, still chained in their kennels, renewing their barking.

Amos clutched his shoulder once more and walked on, slowly, steadily.

By the time he finally reached camp, the other escapees had already returned. None of them had successfully sneaked in undetected, the MPs having been ready and waiting. Those involved in the mutiny were by now herded together and under guard in the general mess tent, where interrogations were being conducted by their NCOs to ascertain the leaders.

The arrival of Amos Cole lent just one more to their numbers and after half an hour with the orderlies who bathed and dressed his wound, he joined the others, arm in a sling, to become the instant centre of attention.

While the MPs had rounded up the mutineers, Hank Henry had requested Samuel join him as he questioned the white officers on the events of the night. As had been reported, there were thankfully no deaths, but two were wounded. A ricocheting bullet had glanced Captain Biff Baker’s arm and young Lieutenant Thomas Woods had been hit in the side, a far more serious injury. Both had been tended by orderlies and would make a full recovery, but the Medical Corps had been radioed and an ambulance was on its way for Woodsy, who would need further treatment and hospitalisation.

‘Could have been a damned sight worse, Major,’ Captain Mick O’Brien said. ‘Thankfully we were outside at the time, but as you can see by the damage all around you, one of the ringleaders fired right into this mess tent.’

‘And I’ll tell you exactly which one it was,’ Chuck Maxwell sneered. He didn’t address the major, his comment, which sounded more like a personal accusation, being directed to his fellow commanding officer, Samuel Robinson, instead.