A month earlier, during the Battle of the Brandywine, Captain Patrick Ferguson managed to get a tall American officer, quite possibly George Washington, in his sights. But Ferguson decided not to shoot because the man had his back turned towards him. Such gallantry was not to last. During the two world wars the sniper was both feared and loathed, with capture often resulting in summary execution. The clinical nature of sniping, studying the target before choosing the moment of execution, inspired hatred in ordinary infantry, who often felt helpless in the presence of a deadly, unseen enemy. To this day, there is something unsavoury about the ''art’’ of sniping. In the curious league table of wartime morality, indiscriminate killing by bombing or artillery barrage is rated above shooting a man or woman at long distance from a concealed position, with a low risk of collateral casualties. “You are master of somebody’s life,” says Branko. “You know him, you see him, his face. You are killing a human being. Artillery is killing something not seen, but the sniper knows if his target is happy or sad. It’s personal.