I awake to a ringing bell and a sea of worried voices. I quickly get out of bed and I know this can only mean that the regulars are on their way. As I think about what’s going to happen in the coming hours, I fumble around my room and light a candle so I can get dressed and say goodbye to my wife as I prepare to leave the house. Now carrying the candle as my source of light, I get the rest of my equipment in the form of a powder flask, rifle, and cartridge box. I head to my front door, take a deep breath, and say a quick prayer as I grab the handle of my front door and prepare to step outside.

    I see a group of fellow colonists gathered on an open green field. They all look worried as they talk amongst themselves. I find someone who is standing on their own, not talking to anyone. As I walk up to him to ask what the situation is, Captain Parker shouts for the group to quiet down. “Attention! I have just been informed that it will be some time before the regulars arrive, take this time to rest and make sure you are prepared.” Some of the men in our ranks use this information as an excuse to enjoy themselves at the nearest tavern. I, however, elect to stay on the green just in case. It never hurts to be careful. 

    A couple of hours have passed, and the warm glow of the sun is starting to take the place of lanterns and candlelight. After some time, a panicked man runs towards Captain Parker, he is sweaty and panting, surely he must be a scout who had to cover a lot of ground. He and Captain Parker quietly exchange a few words, though I am unable to make out what they are saying. Shortly after their conversation, Captain Parker orders one of the men on the green to ring the same bell that I awoke to, and he informs us of the situation. “Attention men! I have just been informed that the regulars are close, and they will be upon us soon.” The men who previously left the green all come back in a uniform group. Surely enough, not too long after the bell rings and the most tardy of our allies arrive, a cluster of red crests over the hill, its pace unchanging and its intent well-known. Captain Parker orders us to get ready. I check my rifle for good measure, and ensure it is loaded by pushing my ramrod into the barrel. As I stow away my ramrod, a man approaches me. “Excuse me, do you have any extra musket balls?” He asks. I rear back, confused. I ask him to repeat himself to ensure I’m not mistaken. “Do you have any extra musket balls you could give me. I rushed to leave my home, and I forgot to grab any on my way out, right now I only have one in my rifle.”

    “You mean to tell me that you forgot one of the only things you need in order to actually fight?” I don’t wait for a response before reaching into my bag and giving the man a handful of musketballs. May god have mercy on him. By the time our exchange is over, the regulars have formed a firing line and we have done the same. Someone else quickly grabs me and puts me into position, the last thing you’d want in a firefight is to be alone without someone else covering you. I look at the men to right and left, and notice beads of sweat slowly traveling down their faces. I can feel my heart thumping out of my chest as my breathing gets heavier. It’s okay, just take some deep breaths I tell myself. My hands are shaking. A faint regular voice calls out “Lay down your weapons, there’s no reason for any of you to fight and die her-” Before the voice finishes speaking, a shot rings out. I pull my trigger in response and my shoulder is pushed back as my gun makes a loud popping sound and a cloud of black smoke forms in front of me. No turning back now. Any thoughts I had were completely interrupted by the volley of fire that followed. It almost sounded like one continuous sound rather than a bunch of separate gunshots. I hear a musket ball zip past my left ear and I see the man to my right collapse in my peripheral vision. Shortly after we are able to assess the situation, the redcoats continue marching on as we begin tending to the wounded. 

    None of us bother reloading. The fight is over. I drop to one knee to check on the man who fell to my right, the front of his shirt has a large patch that’s soaked with blood. His breathing is shaky and his eyes don’t appear to be focused on anything. I realize there’s nothing I can do except hold his hand as his breathing slows and comes to a stop. I look around to see that the man on the ground in front of me was not the only one to lose his life. Plenty of other men whom I once called my neighbors were laying down in the green, unmoving. Still, more were yelling and writhing in pain. I figure it’d be best for me to let the men who were already near them tend to their wounds, there’s not much that I can do.