“Never mind, lads,” Chisholm said. ‘Every time the French fire a shot, they deplete their magazine, and our Navy boys make sure they can’t get any more. Even as targets, we’re helping to win the war.”
MacKim grunted, thinking of Hitchins over there in Quebec. “Come on, boys! Get working! As soon as we get this battery finished, the sooner we can get over there and sort them out.”
“You bloodthirsty little varmint,” Chisholm said. “Did you not get enough at Louisbourg?”
MacKim looked away. He could feel Sergeant Dingwall’s gaze on him.
“Are you still looking for promotion, son?” Dingwall crouched at MacKim’s side. “I’ve got you earmarked for the corporal’s white lace cord, MacKim, as long as you keep active. You keep fighting and sober, and I won’t forget you, boy!”
“I’m not seeking pro
