The Victory of Trenton | Teen Ink

The Victory of Trenton

June 14, 2015
By R.R.Blade BRONZE, SLC, Utah
R.R.Blade BRONZE, SLC, Utah
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"If you're going through hell, keep going." George S. Patton


Truth will ultimately prevail where there is pains to bring it to light.     

–George Washington

December 26, 1776
  Trenton, New Jersey  6:43 a.m.
On the Delaware River

General George Washington of the Continental Army bit his lip. The anxiety was gnawing on him, his nerves were telling him to stop and turn around. But he had to keep going on, nothing could stop him from crossing. This would be the first major victory for the Colonies, everything depended on him and his army to do this—he couldn’t turn around…nothing would stop him.
   “General!” a soldier called in a loud whisper. His name was Private Jakob Scott, he spoke with an Irish accent and was highly regarded by Washington. “I think I see something in the river ahead of us,” Private Scott called. “It looks like a boat coming towards us, although, I don’t see anyone in it.”
Other soldiers began mumbling in agreement. Something about the situation seemed wrong, something unsettling. General Washington saw the boat—the moonlight was the only reason why he could see it at all—and it didn’t look to have any oars—the boat just kept a steady course towards the boats full of soldiers. 
   “Gentlemen,” the general said—he wasn’t afraid to speak loudly— “have your weapons ready, shoot at any movement that is suspicious, but only two shoot if needed—that would be you; Scott and Jenkins.”
   “Yes sir!” they said in unison.
   The boat was getting closer, it was only twenty feet away when they heard the hissing sound.
   What is that? the general thought. Is it a cat? No. What could it…
   The boat was fifteen feet to his left when it bumped into one of his own. A soldier boarded the boat and began to look through it. The soldier pulled something up—a hatch—his face was full of surprise and fear. He scrambled out of the boat, not bothering to try to stay quiet. He fell into the freezing water with a yelp.
The hissing sound stopped. Seconds later, the boat burst into a ball of flames, taking other boats with it. Soldiers were in panic, they didn’t know what to do—the water was too cold to jump into, ice prevented boats to maneuver fast enough and they bumped into each other that sent soldiers into the water anyway. 
   It was madness. Washington’s boat tipped and all in it fell under the water. When Washington looked up as he was sinking, he saw more flashes of orange and red.
   More explosions, he thought.
   Black streaks crossed the sky. Cannonballs, Washington thought. More boats were breaking and falling into the water and patriot bodies sank with them.

 

 

Washington awoke in a small and dusty room with old wood covering the ground and walls. He lay in a bed and was wearing simple white clothing and was shackled to the bedpost. Light seeped in through a small window indicating that it was either morning or evening. Another bed was next to his, it was Jakob Scott. He looked beaten, blood stained his clothes, and his nose was broken. He sat up when he realized that the general was awake.
   “Morning, general,” Scott said. “Not the best wakeup call you’ve gotten.”
   Washington sat up and rubbed his head, causing the chains from his shackle to rattle.
   “Where are we?” he asked.
   “You don’t remember?” Scott said. “I dragged you to land.”
   A flashback went through his mind, he was dragged out of the water by Scott.

   

“Scott! Scott,” General Washington sputtered as he treaded the water. “Scott! I need to command my men! I will not stand down!”
   “No, sir,” Private Scott said, just as they reached the snow-covered bank. “We have already lost. Men are already giving themselves up to the British, others are already dead from being in the line of fire or drowned. We need to get out of here before the Redcoats and Hessians find us.”
   “But…” the general said. He was confused. The British and Hessians were having a party celebrating Christmas and couldn’t expect any of what they were doing. “We were supposed to win, they weren’t expecting it!”
   “Well,” Scott said, “they expected it. Now get up! We need to go!”
   “No you don’t,” someone said casually behind them. “You are going to come with me or I will shoot you both.” It was a British soldier, an officer.
   “Not without a fight,” Scott growled as he turned and lashed out.

   “The last thing I remember was you fighting with the officer and that was it.”
   “Yeah, he had me beaten by the bloody Redcoats and then I was knocked out…t-then I woke up about an hour before you.”
The door opened and someone walked in. It was the British officer who they saw the night before, he was flanked by two Redcoats.
   “Well, I see that you have settled in nicely” the officer said, he spoke very formally. “I hope that you don’t feel too much pain my good fellow.”
   Scott scowled at him. “Yes, actually. We have ‘settled in nicely’—that is until you walked in, you…you filthy lobsterback!”
   “Hmm, shoot that one.” The officer gestured with his head towards Scott and the Redcoat to his left pulled a pistol from his belt and fired at him.
   “NO!” Washington was horrified. Another one of his soldiers was killed because of him. The guilt was ripping at his insides.
   “That is the price any man pays for speaking out against an officer to the king,” the officer said. “Now, how about you, hmm? A name, please?”
   Washington looked around the room, as if searching for hope or a way out of the situation. “Alright,” he sighed. “My name is George Washington of the Continental Army.”
   “A rank, perhaps?”
   “General,” he muttered.
   “Oh! I knew it was high up, seeing from your former uniform.”
   “Former? I am still of the Continental Army! How can you say former?”
   “Oh, you don’t know?” the officer said matter-of-factly. “Well, let me introduce myself. I am Commander Ronald Johnson. I control the battlefield of the British Red—they are an elite military force that are handpicked by the king. King George has ordered us to protect Trenton. He had a feeling that you rebels would attack on such a holy day such as Christmas. Unchristian if you ask me. I’ve read your so-called ‘Declaration of Independence,’ and it sounds to me as if you speak in the name of God.”
   He leaned down closer down to the general’s ear. “Only His Majesty the King and those who he has appointed may speak in the name of God,” he whispered. He pulled away. “And in the name of God—in which I may speak—say that you band of rebels have caused enough trouble. You and every last man who attempted to attack Trenton and other conspirators against the crown will be put to death by hanging,  drawn and quartered.
   “But I am straying off topic, the reason why your uniform is ‘former’, general, is because the Continental Congress was bombed this morning and England now has complete control of the colonies and martial law has been put into effect today. You are a high-up officer in a war and will be put to death in an execution tomorrow—but I don’t like to wait, so…”
   Commander Johnson pulled out a pistol from one of the Redcoat’s belt, pointed it at Washington and fired…


The author's comments:

I was going to write a full novel around this story—this was actually the prologue—but the story didn't work out. So I decided to fix this up so it wouldn't have any clues as to the novel-story thing-y. Anyway, most people, when they read it, always ask me if I was the who wrote it and they're always surprised to hear that a teenager could write something like that. …I grin at that.

 

Enjoy! :-D


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