As Charles Wilmington prepares himself to go into a battle that he might not come out of, he says goodbye to his mother as his father is a loyalist, who left to join the British two months ago.

“Goodbye mother, I wish you well.”

“Goodbye, Charles!” exclaimed his mother.

Charles was a charming fellow who wanted to prove his father wrong by defeating him in battle. As Charles jumped onto the wagon with the other new recruits. The war had already started, but when he heard that the army was low on recruits, he pounced onto his one chance to prove to his father that he was wrong. They were on their way to Valley forge, which was the only place they could have gone to, since the British had chased them out of Philadelphia. It was already cold but the day that they left it was bright and sunny.

A few hour later they arrive to Valley forge and start to set up camp. Some were gathering firewood while others went to pitch up tents to sleep in while others began to build the cramped cabins.

“Put cabins over here, fires over there and tents around there.”

General Washington was giving orders to the experienced recruits while the new ones stood in a line side by side, waiting for Washington to give them their training. As Charles looked around he could tell that some of the soldiers were not from around there. He could hear from some people's accents they were from down south. Around him he say the doctors, training for wounded soldiers, with the straps on the tables, dirty and old tools.

“Everyone! You are here to fight against the British, and you will need to learn how, so that is what we are going to do now. Follow me.” All the new recruits marched behind Washington. As they were marching Charles saw that there weren’t many women around, except for the ones dressed like men hiding around, and the ones doing all the laundry.

People had to march barefooted, but Charles was one of the lucky ones and had shoes. Others had barely any clothes at all, some wore stitched rags.

“Alright! We shall now learn some of the rules of war.

First rule, Do not ever assume that you are welcome anywhere. They may act friendly but they will turn on you and kill you. You aren’t safe near them. Second rule, Cultivate local support. Get as many people for us as possible. Rule number three, respect locals religious beliefs. Rule four, Do not ever abuse prisoners, as you know, all men are created equal. Fifth rule, Withdraw from your objectives if they are unattainable. We need as many soldiers as possible, and we need you to be safe.”

Hours of training has passed and Charles couldn’t wait for dinner.

“What are we going to eat this night?”

“Firecake and water,” said Felix Cuff. “It’s all that we have that was given. But you are going to have to wait a little longer, the chef is a little sick, the doctors think its smallpox.”

“Let's hope not, i’m starved!”

Speaking of disease, some of the soldiers don’t look too well. They are paler than usual and are coughing like a seal. In the middle of the night Charles woke up to the sound of someone screaming, “MEDIC! MEDIC!”

“What happened?” Charles asked.

“Thomas is dying! He needs help!” The soldier said hurridly.

Charles ran to the medical tent and screamed for the medic.

“We need help in tent 34! Thomas seems like he is dying!”

The medics chased after Charles, leading them towards the tent, where Thomas now lay, on the ground, dead. The meadics checked his lifeless eyes, and carried him to the corner of camp, where they placed his body.

After the body was gone, Charles went back to bed. He soon woke up

early to the sound of banging pots and pans clanging together for training. He sprang up and ran out of his tent to his designated spot and waited for the others to line up with him. Once everyone was there Washington had started but Charles seemed to feel like he was being taught everything again. Before the war had began, before his father was found to be a loyalist, he had taught how to use a musket and how to fight in a war if ever needed. He had performed with exalancy and efficiency. He was the top soldier and Washington knew that. Months went by, the same routine every day, until finally on May 7th, the soldiers were told that they were going to be moved to saratoga, where we are going to attack the British. This meant that Charles enlistment was almost up, because he thought that the war was going to be shorter than it is.

Over the next few days at camp, the soldiers had practiced all that they had learned for the battle. They had started to get ready to move away to Saratoga, and some of the soldiers had already packed up ready to leave. As it started to get warmer, less people were dying to disease, and the number of people were steadying out. As Charles was waiting for his firecake, he heard some talk about Cornwallis, the British General, and how he should just give up now before he loses. Charles chuckled at the thought.

It was the day that they had gone to travel to Saratoga, and fight his first and final fight, at least he was hoping to. As he hopped up onto the wagon on the way to Saratoga, he gotten completely armed and ready to fight if any Brit’s had come along their way. As he watched vigilantly, it was getting late and he couldn’t stay awake anymore, so he had fallen asleep ready to shoot. When he awoke, he saw troops marching into Saratoga where the British had been marching toward New York. The Continental army had snuck up onto a hill, aiming for the British who had been unsuspectedly marching right to them.

“Ready. . . Aim. . .FIRE!” Washington had yelled out so loud he meant for the Britains to hear. Bullet after bullet went coursing through the air, either hitting a horse, soldier, or tent, some just hit the ground. Charles had electricity pumping through his veins, hitting four people either in the arm or leg, killing two. For some reason he felt accomplished for his last shot before running out of ammo, for he didn’t know that it hit his dad. Charles Wilmington had shot his father, Jacob Wilmington. Charles had asked the Whig’s around him either for a musket ball or gunpowder, but hoping they wouldn’t give him any, so that he wouldn’t have to fight anymore.

Charles had figured they won the war after there were less Britain's still standing. He was shaking in fear, but glad the battle was over. They had also captured some of the remaining British soldiers as prisoner. They had taken the victory amd had prepared for departure from the bloody battle. Washington was interrogating the prisoners and figured that British General John Burgoyne led a large invasion, hoping to meet a similar British force marching from behind them, but haven’t arrived yet, and Burgoyne was surrounded by them, which had only helped the Continential army fighting them.

As Charles hoped up onto the wagon to go back home, he thought about his father, and wonderd where he was, somewhat hoping that he would come back to him, and see why he was wrong. The whole way home he counted his earnings from his   enlistment, and had $50. All he wanted is to go home back to his family and let his mother know that he is okay. All he wanted was to go home and get an actual meal, and go to bed warm, and in his very own bed, now that he was the man of the house until his father came home.

He found himself  daydreaming about when he will get home. Tired as can be, he shut his eyes, and dozed off. Waking up to the clacking of horse hooved on the stone paths, he jumped off the moment he saw his mother working in the backyard and ran, hopped over the fence, and hugged her from behind.