The first time Henry Ashford saw the battlefield in his mind, he was sitting in a dugout outside the Somme, eating cold tinned beef and listening to the rain drum on the corrugated iron roof.
It happened between one heartbeat and the next. One moment he was looking at a map spread across his knees—a simple tactical map showing his battalion's position, the German lines three hundred yards ahead, and a hedgerow that both sides had been fighting over for two weeks. The next moment, the map was gone. In its place was a three-dimensional model of the battlefield, floating in his mind...
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