CAPE COAST CASTLE SEPTEMBER 1873
As Jack led his men into Cape Coast Castle, a fitful breeze flapped the union flag against a grey sky. With their stained uniforms hanging on emaciated bodies and their faces drawn and haggard, the Wests looked like men returning from the other side of hell. Yet when Jack inspected them, he was intensely proud; they marched with their backs straight and heads up, their arms swinging and eyes level. They may be disarmed and battered, Jack thought, but by the Gods of War, these are men, and as good soldiers, as any I have known.
“You lads get along to the hospital, get examined, and get some food and rest.” Jack watched them march away, smiling as he contemplated a hot bath and writing a letter to Mary.
“Good afternoon, sir.” Captain Brett looked tense. “W
