Amelia was correct in her surmise, however. Ant did have a problem and he was being bullied. The problem and the bully both came in the form of Captain Charles ‘Chuck’ Maxwell.

Since his altercation with Samuel Robinson, Chuck Maxwell had stopped singling out Kasey Davis. In Chuck’s mind, this was not because his fellow officer’s threat to report him had instilled fear, no, not at all. Robinson was a dirty kike who should never have attained officer rank in the first place. But Chuck was aware of his own personal trigger points and above all his level of tolerance. The anger Kasey Davis aroused in him was dangerous. The pretty nigger was far more spirited than any black had a right to be. In fact, the pretty nigger was downright insolent, and if Chuck was pushed too far he might well kill the bastard.

God Almighty, he thought, if we were back home on the plantation, it’d be my bounden duty to teach that boy a lesson he’d never forget. But here in the army it seems a nigger’s allowed to show disrespect to his racial superior. It’s a downright disgrace! My daddy wouldn’t stand for it!

Chuck knew that if he was pushed too far, and if he did happen to kill Kasey Davis, he really would be in trouble. He needed a more pliant kicking boy, one who knew his place. And that boy was Private Anthony Hill.

Samuel Robinson’s words had continued to rankle with Chuck, or rather the inference of Samuel Robinson’s words. ‘Your daddy might also know you’re really not cut out for combat duty. He might feel his baby boy needs protection, that little Chuck must be looked after.’

How could the dirty kike know it was Daddy who’d arranged his appointment to the 96th Battalion? And how could the dirty kike possibly know the goddamned reason?

‘You’ll be safe there, Chuck,’ Sheridan Leroy Maxwell had promised his son, ‘I’ve made sure of that. You’ll see no conflict. The 96th is a non-combat battalion.’

Daddy had always looked after things. For as long as Chuck could remember, it had been Daddy who had paved the way. When, upon attending the University of Alabama, he’d failed both academically and in the field of sports, Daddy had pulled every string possible to arrange his entry to and graduation from an expensive military school in Virginia.

Back then, neither of them had anticipated he might actually be sent off to war. But when the time had arrived, Daddy had successfully looked after that, too.

‘You’re going to come home in one piece, Chuck, don’t you worry yourself now.’

Chuck had been deeply thankful. He’d tried to pretend he was quite prepared to go into battle. He’d be happy to fight for his country, he’d declared, although the mere thought terrified him.