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Joseph: hey mod?

Mod: yes Plumb?

Joseph: …can I… am I allowed to… well… MUD ISLAND WAS HELL! Remember Fort Mifflin! We did all we could to defend it! To keep the British out and away from Philadelphia but damnit… we just couldn’t do enough! And no one remembers! We suffered… lost good men… boys… lived and fought and suffered and died in cold mud…

Mod: …Joseph?

Joseph; I’m fine. I’m done now. I just needed a moment. Aye, I’m late but I needed a moment. *dusts off coat.* right well… good day to you all. *walks off*

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Amias: : You know what? I love myself. Even though I look like a burnt chicken nugget, I still love myself.

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Amias: I’m late on this m, I know, I know. I’m over two weeks late on this but… irs hard to talk about.

Brandywine.

Everything it meant and represented to the Continental Army; the longest single day battle, a hard battle, having to face losing Philadelphia… we still held together but… it was hard.

What the battle meant for me. What I lost… what I put my friends though. What Udney and Cyrus and Obadiah and Billy had to do afterwards… what changed for them. For me…

Losing my sight.

So forgive for not saying anything until almost three weeks later. The memories still burn hot in my mind and weight heavily on my heart. But, mod and the others encouraged me to do something. So here’s my post.

Thank you.

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(Blog mod here. Asks are open. Please send something in. I have a pinned post with who’s here (most are OCs). You can either ask canon time (Revolutionary War) or modern au).

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…I’m not crying you’re crying!!

COURIER:

Momma, hey momma,

Come lookin’ for me.

I’m here in the meadow

By the red maple tree.

Momma, hey momma,

Look sharp, here I be.

Hey, hey,

Momma, look sharp.

Them soldiers, they fired;

Oh ma, did we run!

But then we turned ‘round

And the battle begun.

Then I went under.

Oh, ma, am I done?

Hey, hey,

Momma, look sharp.

My eyes are wide open;

My face to the sky.

Is that you I’m hearin’

In the tall grass nearby?

Momma, come find me

Before I do die!

Hey, hey,

Momma, look sharp.

COURIER, MCNAIR, WORKMAN:

I’ll close your eyes, my Billy;

Them eyes that cannot see.

And I’ll bury ya, my Billy,

Beneath the maple tree.

COURIER:

And never again

Will you whisper to me,

“Hey, hey,

Momma, look sharp.”

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Udney: Independence!

Amias and Cyrus: Huzzah! Huzzah!

Obadiah: Down with the King!

Elijah: Liberty!!

Joseph: freedom! Huzzah!

(Mod: Happy Fourth of July everyone! Raise a glass to independence!)

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Amias: My vibe is like, hey you could probably pour soup in my lap and I’ll apologize to you

Alt.

Cyrus: My vibe is like, hey you could probably pour soup in my lap and I’ll apologize to you

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Amias: When I’m walking down the street I don't think anybody goes, 'Hey look at that man', they're just like 'Woah, that tall child looks terrible'

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Amias: I… I used to be a decent soldier; they said I was the best shot of our regiment, but I don’t know how true that was. They made me a sharpshooter; said my aim was true. They relied on me, and I did all I could to make them proud, to serve my country. For a moment, I began believing I was worth something.

That was until… until Brandywine. Until the accident. Canon exploded near me; I tried to cover a retreat and protect our artillery. I told him to run… to defend himself. I couldn’t let Udney take the risk.

Some hot powder must’ve been left in the barrel: a British shot hit, and burning powder flashed in my face, hitting my eyes. I don’t remember much else; I think I hit my head when I fell back; a British soldier must’ve cut me a few times with a bayonet or sword… it doesn’t matter anyway, but I was left with more than burn scars.

The next thing I knew, I was blind… what good is a blind soldier, primarily a sharpshooter?

I don’t want pity; I want to be of use to the army, my country, and anyone.

All I need is a chance.

(Mod: Amias Grey is an original character in my historical fiction work in progress (yet to be titled). Please do not steal him. Feel free to interact with him and the others on this blog through asks. (Modern au or cannon time is welcome).)

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Hello all! Mod here. Asks are opened and everyone here is ready and willing to answer them.

Amias Grey, Udney Hutchinson, Elijah Whitaker (courier), Cyrus Ackerman, and Joseph Plumb Martin are all here and willing to answer questions. If your question is for a specific soldier(s) let them know.

(If you want to see a little about them see the pinned post)

Let them know if you want it modern au or canon time (Revolutionary War).

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Amias: I’ll just keep all my emotions right here and then one day, I’ll die

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(I mean…. This is really accurate.)

Amias: well you have plenty of trauma to pick from for me.

Elijah: do I dare say same?

Cyrus: sh-shite….

Udney: *cracks knuckles* here we go again.

Joseph: … remind me why I wrote my memoir.

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Amias: right… well… how do you all do? How does one address a Howery?

Udney: oh enough with the pleasantries. One Howe was too much if you ask me. And you great them with a warning shot!

Joseph: won’t argue there. But we shan’t hit a lady. If I’m being honest a Howery doesn’t sound like they’re be too welcoming to us.

You know how there are specific ways of counting groups of animals? A raft of ducks, a streak of tigers, a parliament of owls- now get ready for a Howery.

A term coined by Caroline Howe (1722–1814, the lady framed on either side by her more famous brothers) in a letter dated April 8 1786, a Howery denotes a group of several individuals belonging to the (political) animals of the Howe-family.

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Elijah: I don’t really talk about this much; how much would anyone want to talk about losing both his legs? You’re not supposed to shoot the messenger, but sometimes you get caught in the crossfire; other times, people don’t care. Rode into what must have been Tory or British held territory, was riding hard to get back to camp before a storm, never heard anything until the crack of the shot. A bullet tore through my leg, and the horse reared and threw me. Guess another shot was fired, and my horse went down; my legs were crushed under her.

They did what they could to fix me once they found me; suppose that’s a story for another day, they had no choice but to amputate my right leg, what the bullet didn’t destroy the fall did. They made an effort to repair my left; it worked for a while, but… well, obviously you can put it together… lost that leg as well. Surgeons don’t understand how I survived two amputations so far up my legs, and I can’t rightly say how I did either. Maybe it was luck, could have been fate, God, Divine Providence, whatever you choose to call a higher power if you call it anything. I still don’t know why I lived through it all, but I did, and I hope to still be of use to the cause and my brother soldiers.

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Udney and Amias: Merrily we fall out of line, out of line

I'd fall anywhere with you, I'm by your side

Swinging in the rain, humming melodies

We're not going anywhere until we freeze

I'm not afraid anymore

I'm not afraid

Forever is a long time

But I wouldn't mind spending it by your side

…

Tell me everyday I get to wake up to that smile

I wouldn't mind it at all

I wouldn't mind it at all

- “I Wouldn’t Mind” He I’d We

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Joseph: saw a poor fellow tackle and attempt to wrestle a deer while encamped at Morristown, New Jersey. Unfortunately for the good fellow, the deer won, and his meal ran back into the woods.

If I may add one more story, at war’s end, when I was marching north again after Yorktown, I nearly fell headlong off the cliffs of the Palisades trying to get a squirrel. I managed to hold my own in battle, but squirrels have always alluded to my aim.

I suppose if we don’t laugh at our misfortune, the only other option is to cry.

Elijah: we soldiers, clearly not tired of battle, often engaged in snowball fights for the record books while at winter encampments. I can say with confidence more than a few of us marched back to our huts with black eyes or smarting cheeks after our snowy skirmishes.

Those of us less inclined to do battle again had ice skating competitions and raced makeshift sleds. I can tell you with certainty I am the least graceful person on ice you’ll ever meet.

(Everything mentioned here is true. Joseph Plumb Martin talks about both events (deer and squirrel) in his memoir, and the information on the winter activities are pretty readily available in secondary and primary sources.)

I like learning about wars, but not like the super-violent parts, or the gross mentalities that cause wars, I just like learning about the dumb shit soldiers did. Like, there’s some comedy gold there

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Amias and Udney: *breaking their kiss* you didn’t see anything if it isn’t allowed.

Continental Soldier: *sees two dudes kissing* Is this allowed?