Days of Infamy
Page 37
He had told Rush there would be no alternative on this night. If he flinched from the weather and the risks, from the difficulties and the enemy, the collapse in morale would lead his army to disintegration. Within a week there would no longer be an American army. Then death would be his fate and the fate of every leader of the revolution.
Victory or death. If the Hessians were forewarned, aroused, and awaiting them in full battle array, he would lose. Of that he had no doubt. His men hated, loathed the Hessians after the reports of their bayoneting of prisoners and wounded at Long Island and Manhattan. They feared them as well, for their clocklike precision, discipline, and frightful ability to pour out four volleys a minute to the two ragged volleys of his “continental line,” and as for the militia, they barely knew how to load their weapons, let alone fire them in a disciplined manner. If the Hessians were waiting and deployed, what was left of his army would be pinned to the east bank of the Delaware and then overwhelmed by the British garrison, warm and well fed, pouring down from Prince Town.
He looked up at the dark sky and found himself wondering if he would ever see home again.
Martha and Mount Vernon? What of them?
She would survive, he prayed. The English were not savages; in fact, it was tragic in a way that they faced each other now like this. For they were of the same blood. The Howe brothers were gentlemen and would not take vengeance on the widow of a slain enemy. But Mount Vernon? It would be confiscated as a prize of war, and Martha would be turned out to live off the charity of friends, at least those friends who had stayed loyalist and thus still held their property.
He had written her that afternoon, confided in her how much he missed her and how he longed to be home in their wonderful place looking out over the Potomac. He had not confided that his men were cold and hungry, his army losing courage, their situation reduced to this last desperate lunge. He had promised to write her on the morrow and reminded her of the love he felt in the depths of his being. He had said winning this war was vital to him, not only for America and freedom, but because it would let him go back home to the cherished companionship of the one whom he loved more than life itself. He thought briefly of Martha by the fire down in Virginia and shook his head. Time now only to decide, act, lead, arouse, and impose. Time now to show the Hessians and the British what kind of people they were trying to enslave.
Another gust of wind roared in across the river, coming more from the northeast, driving a gale of frozen rain. The moon was up, visible in the gaps that momentarily appeared in the scudding clouds. But the western horizon beyond the hills bordering the river was now obscured as well, and what little light there was seemed to be extinguished, like a candle snuffed out, and the world went dark.
The far bank disappeared from sight. The wind howling across the river was now a steady blow, treetops swaying and crackling as the icy rain froze to branches and then shattered.
Damn, it was so damned cold.
He pulled his cape in tighter and turned to face Knox.
“Start them across,” he announced.
He could barely make out the features of his chief of artillery, who was tasked this night with commanding the crossing of the river.
Knox was one of the few men in this world whom he actually had to look up to.
For a few seconds Knox looked into his trusted friend’s eyes. Nothing needed to be said; the time to debate was over. Knox saluted, turned, and started down to the ferry dock.
“We’re going!” he bellowed. “Start loading up.”
No one moved. He could sense their disbelief that he was pressing forward in an enterprise that most all of them believed to be a lost cause.
Washington forced a smile. “Just keep telling them the Hessians will be asleep. What awaits them in Trenton will be warm shelter, hot food, and dry boots for the taking.”
The words sounded wooden even to him. Merciful God, are we so pathetic in this endeavor that I must motivate men by the promise of dry shoes taken from the enemy?
He could see the response in their eyes as they circled around him. Knox was aflame, as was Greene, but the others?
They would be facing the Hessians come dawn, and nearly all in the rank and file feared them.
“It is time to pay them back, gentlemen. Pay them back for the humiliations dealt to us. Tonight will be our night. Now to your duties.”
The group slowly began to break up. Except for Knox, who stormed off, shouting orders, his voice booming above the thunder of the storm.
The Hessians. Mercenaries. My God, how could those who were once our own countrymen do this, hire a foreign army to trample down our liberties? Yes, they had aroused the ire of his army when first sighted, but now all they did was arouse fear. For they were the best disciplined infantry in the world—and the most relentless on the battlefield.
His spies had told him whom he would face. A Colonel Rall. He had glimpsed him on the battlefields at Fort Washington and White Plains. Fearless and, rumor was, one of their best.
Am I a fool to think that these frozen men around me, ragged, barefoot, already soaked through, will face and defeat Rall in the morning?
Or was all hope of surprise already lost, for Rall was a professional, intelligence reports said he was a man with thirty year’s experience in war. And at this moment he and his men were warm, well fed, and resting.
He felt a dark premonition and pushed it aside. By dawn he would face Rall, and it would be the Hessian who would take the sword from his dying hand.
He turned back to watch the men beginning to file past.
“Close up the ranks, boys, and keep moving. Remember, it is victory or death.”
FREEDOM ALLIANCE
SCHOLARSHIP FUND—Supporting the Children of America’s Military Heroes
The Freedom Alliance Scholarship Fund honors the bravery and dedication of Americans in our armed forces who have sacrificed life or limb by providing college scholarships to their children. Through the generosity of the American public, the Scholarship Fund has awarded more than $1 million to the sons and daughters of American heroes.
Many of freedom’s brave defenders, who have lost their lives fighting terrorism, have left behind young children. We believe it is our duty to help their children meet the rising costs of a college education, but more importantly to remind them that their parents’ sacrifice will never be forgotten by a grateful nation.
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Freedom Alliance provides financial assistance and gift packages to these troops. The program also includes events such as Military Appreciation Dinners and special holiday activities. Freedom Alliance sponsors these activities to say “thank you” to our service members and their families.
Freedom Alliance, which was founded in 1990 by Lieutenant Colonel Oliver North, USMC (Ret.), is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) charitable and educational organization dedicated to advancing the American heritage of freedom by honoring and encouraging military service, defending the sovereignty of the United States, and promoting a strong national defense.
For more information or to donate, contact:
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“LEST WE FORGET”
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