On what had once been a kitchen table, Fitzhugh pored through the reports and requests on his desk.
By the end of that first day, the rumour of the crucified soldier had been passed along the entirety of the front lines, and in response he had word issued that an investigation team was being pulled together from within the ranks. This would be no headquarters-led investigation; the team was to be elected by the men themselves, tasked with investigating the gruesome murder of one of their own.
It did not take long for a list of proposed names to appear, but most of the men nominated were next to useless. One Scottish unit had put forward a soldier who was perfect in every way: a former police inspector who had even been involved in a military inquiry. It was just a shame he’d been killed
