United States | Lieutenant Gore

[Odinson]

In 1777 the American War for Independence was considered to be all but lost. The capital of the newly joined United States, Philadelphia, was seized by the British in September of that year. The Continental Congress barely escaped as British regulars marched through the streets of Philidelphia and retook the city for the Crown shortly before Autumn. General George Washington, Commander-in-chief of the Continental Army, tried and failed to retake Philadelphia before the onset of winter. He was forced to march the army of 12,000 patriots a little over 18 miles northwest of Philadelphia where they set up camp to wait out the coldest months of the year. It was during this time that the United States, still in their infancy, came closest to their extinguishment as an independent republic. With all other matters considered, it was one brutally cold Christmas in December of 1777 that decided the fate of an entire nation.​

Just a few days before, on December 22, General Washington wrote this to the President of the Continental Congress, Henry Laurens. He disclosed the dire state of the Continental Army. He detailed the lack of supplies and the poor state that they were currently in, despite his best efforts. Most chillingly, he wrote the following: ​

"It is with infinite pain & concern, that I transmit Congress the inclosed Copies of Sundry Letters respecting the state of the Commissary’s Department. In these matters are not exaggerated. I do not know from what cause this alarming deficiency, or rather total failure of Supplies arises: But unless more vigorous exertions and better regulations take place in that line and immediately, This Army must dissolve..."
-General George Washington

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Archibold Thomas Gore stumbled his way through the blistering cold winds to a few men who were huddled by a fire near an old chestnut tree. At first they paid him no mind until the one with is back to the trunk of the tree stood up at attention, "Li-Lieutenant," he said, the young man's teeth chattering as he stood just a foot away from the warmth of the small fire. The man across from him stood as well, while a man next to him who had his arm in a sling was bit a less expeditious.​

"As you were, gentlemen. How are you carrying along?" he asked. He had to raise his voice a bit since the winds were channeling a strong tunnel of air around them.​

"Quite fine, sir!" shouted the man with his arm in a sling. The man rubbed one of his legs and gave an assuring nod to Lieutenant Gore. ​

"Very well, carry on... I hear some from the 1st Rhode Island Regiment managed to catch some fish, you may want to go check before word spreads," he said. Gore watched as lights lit up in the eyes of the three men. Two of them sprung up, while the wound man with the hurt arm struggled to his feet. "Don't worry Phillip, we'll bring you some back if we manage to get any," one of the men said as he scurried off, followed by the other. Gore hesitated for a moment, and then walked over to the wounded man.​

"Don't tell anyone I gave you this," he said to the enlisted soldier. Gore handed him a small morsel of bread that was about half the size of a fist. It was part of his officer's rations - he was hoping that he'd get a bit more for supper, but this man clearly needed it for some morale.​

"Thank you, sir!" the injured man said. He gave a small bow to his superior officer since he had no tricorn hat to lift off of his head and give a proper thanks. Gore gave a small nod and walked on, hoping no one saw what he had just done. He continued on to a small wooden cabin, if you would call it that. The wall of one side was not properly built. It was leaning against a few nearby trees and had several cracks. It was likely unable to retain much heat, but it was better than nothing. Our of courtesy Gore knocked a few times and then entered. He struggled with the door for a few moments before he managed to push it open. Snow was covering his shoulders and hat as he stepped inside. He removed his tricorn and brushed off his jacket. There were ten men huddled inside the small cabin. A little, but strong, fire was raging in the center. It looked as if the men had managed to come across a few pieces of coal along with the fire which helped it burn hot in the core. ​

"As you were, gentlemen," Gore said before they even managed to rise to attention. "How are you all? What is your regiment?" he asked. This was the twenty-fifth group that he had visited, and he was growing tired of it, but he did his best to keep positive spirits around the enlisted men.​

"Syr?" asked one of the men said. A more typical Englishman from London might have mistaken it for "sir" but Gore recognized that specific "Syr" as being that of the distinct Newport dialect of Welsh that he was accustomed to. While his father was from Bristol, England his mother was from Caldicot, Monmouthsire in Wales. It was from her that he knew just enough Welsh to get by in casual conversation.​

"Wyt ti'n iawn?" he asked the man who had first questioned him when he walked in. The man then recognized his rank and quicly nodded, "Ie syr, rydym yn iawn." Although the men were clearly freezing it seemed that they were doing their best to remain in high spirits. Gore patted the man on the shoulder and then opened the door back out to the frigid cold that awaited him. He pulled the door behind him and had to give it a few good yanks before it shut closed. A bit of snow fell from the tree above him and hit his tricorn. He adjusted it and then started walking back to the officers camp where they were to report after checking on their assigned units. Gore slowly walked by a number of men who were huddled together, some were by fires and some only had their fellow patriots to keep them warm. He also walked by a few men that were swaddled in blankets, but who he was sure were dead from the cold. They joined the hundreds others who had already froze to death.​

Gore walked past an exterior guard to the officer's headquarters and up to the primary cabin in the center. He opened the door to the small home, which had been repurposed from private ownership to use by the Continental Army. Inside were a number of junior officers and others that outranked him. He humbly took his place near the middle of a center table. At the far end was a young man, who looked to be perhaps 19 or 20 years old, in French clothing. The man had a hardened look on his face and waited for the other officers to take their places before he gently knocked his wine glass on the table a few times. Gore recognized the man as Gilbert du Motier, more commonly known among the Americans as "The Marquis de Lafayette" or "Lafayette".​

Lafayette was a very young man to hold the rank of officer in America, let alone a powerful nation such as France. But he had obtained the officer rank in his mother country at just the age of 13. After hearing about the American Revolution, he came to the New World to fight in what he considered a righteous cause. He was made a Major General in the Continental Army after receiving support from a number of American advocates including Benjamin Franklin himself - he was given the commission after declaring that he had no request for pay or any kind of compensation. Just a month ago in November he led a group of some 300 American patriots in Gloucester, New Jersey and defeated a superior number of Hessian mercenaries. He was respected as a competent commander and fair leader, despite his age and French heritage. Gore didn't consider for a second that he was the same age as Major General Lafayette.​

"Jentlemen," Lafayette said in his French accent as he corralled the officers to the table. "Please take youur seets. Comment vont-ils? Tell me what ze men feel?" he asked openly.​

Captain Nathaniel Smith, from the 1st Virginia State Regiment, stood up. "Sir, the men I've spoken too are cold and tired. I know that General Washington decided for us to winder here because of the strategic importance of this site, and because of the reluctance of the redcoats to attack us here in the winter, but my men and their horses are freezing to death in the snow. We don't have enough cabins to house them in," he said before he gave a short, respective bow and took his seat again.​

Lieutenant Gore waited a few moments and then stood himself. "Sir, I have spoken to patriots from Massachusetts and Rhode Island down to the Carolinas... Many of them are not getting their rations, sir. There is a general shortage of food, and other supplies," he said, before taking his seat. General Washington had ordered each soldier get: three-quarters pound of salted pork, or one and a half pounds of flour or bread, a half pound of bacon or salted pork, a half pint of peas or beans, and one gill of whiskey or spirits. In reality there were barley even getting a fraction of that. Lafayette listened for half an hour as his American officers went on about the miserable conditions at the camp until he had enough.​

"Sir," said another officer as he rose to his feet. "I found about ten men from the 7th Pennsylvania Regiment laying in the snow... It looks like the froze to death this morning, we'll need to organize their burial." Lafayette was by now all too use to having to bury frozen men. He was sure that the chaplin was probably exhausted of having to do it as well. The officers went on for half an hour before Lafayette had enough.​

"I will relay dis information to Jeneral Washington, zank you gentlemen," he said. While all of the other officers rose from their seats and left the headquarters cabin, Lieutenant Gore and the aforementioned Captain Smith kept their seats. They were both confidants of Lafayette and had assisted both him and Washington in personal errands before - not to mention they were part of the Commander-in-Chief's Guard, the personal unit of General Washington charged with his protection. As glorified bodyguards, they were perhaps the closest thing the young rebel nation had to army regulars. The two men waited to either be dismissed, or to be given further instructions.​

"Jentlemen, it will soon be dark. I will consult with Jeneral Washington. Please wait here and enjoy some refreshments, I will return in a few mineets," he said. He arose and tipped his hat before he retired to a back room. Gore and Smith both looked at the measly bits of food that had been laid out on the table before them for the officers to enjoy. There were slices of sausage, cheeses, whiskey, and other small finger foods. Most of it had been eaten by the officers as they had sat around the table, but there was still some left.​

"I don't understand why we're allotted so much more when some of the men are starving out there," Gore said as he examined a piece of bread, which he guilty took a bite of, and then sniffed a small cup of whiskey before putting it down. Instead he opted for water.​

"Because we are the leadership," Captain Smith replied. He continued to justify, "While it is difficult for them, they have to survive. But the officers have to survive, and have to think. Our judgement can't be clouded by day dreams for a shepard's pie," he said as he picked up a piece of bread, dipped it in a gravy, and took a bite. ​

Meanwhile Lafayette knocked a few times on a door that was already cracked open.​

"Come in," said a soft, but clear, voice. Lafayette entered the room and saw General Washington sitting at an old desk that had a few papers scattered across it. Washington had been reviewing conflicting intelligence that spanned from Philidelphia to New York. While some sources said that the second Continental Congress would be evacuating to the interior of Pennsylvania, he had another letter the congress that said they would be convening in Baltimore, Maryland. For now he couldn't verify if the letter was legitimate since it was missing the official seal of the Congress - likely because it was sent in haste - but it nevertheless seemed legitimate to him. Regardless, whatever orders he may receive from anywhere else, there were no forces short of God Himself that could get him to move the army from its current encampment.​

"How bad is it, Mister Lafayette?" Washington asked genuinely. His voice was almost always calm and steady.​

"It ees not good, Jeneral," Lafayette responded. "Ze men do not have their proper rations. Zey have annihilated ze local animal population..." he said, and then looked a bit hesitant.​

"And what else, Mister Lafayette?" Washington asked, a bit worried that he needed to request further clarification from his normally straightforward second-in-command.​

"Well, Jeneral, we received 300 of ze 500 rifles from ze Congress that you requested. Howevah, zey do not have ze flints needed to shoot them," he said. Needless to say, this basically rendered the rifles useless unless they intended to use them exclusively for bayonet charges.​

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Gore and Smith both heard a crash come from within Washington's office. Both of the men stood up. Gore was closer to the room. He started to reach for the door knob, but the 6'2" general pushed the door open. Gore moved aside and then stood at attention. Lafayette walked out into the meeting room shortly after Washington. Before Lafayette closed the door to Washington's study, Gore saw that there were a few items on the ground. It looked like Washington had probably thrown them from his desk in a fit of anger.​

"Mister Lafayette, I think we should go inspect the camps ourselves. I'm going to get my gear. Mister Gore, Mister Smith, if you two would ride behind us with your arms it would be greatly appreciated," he said before he walked to another side room that contained his personal quarters. Lafayette, Gore, and Smith all walked outside and corralled their horses so that they could prepare to ride with the general. Fifteen minutes later they were off. Washington and Lafayette rode beside each other. Each had on their daily war-time livery along with their tricorns and a thick cape on each that had a red interior. To the men they rode by, Washington looked like a giant. He was riding a stallion that was four or five feet tall and was already the tallest man at Valley Forge.​

Gore and Smith looked around a bit cautiously. While all of the men camped here were fellow patriots, the situation was becoming dire. A year ago there had been a plot from within the Commander-in-Chief's Guard to kill Washington, but it had luckily been put down before it could take place. Even though this was their county, there were just as many loyalists as there were patriots. Nevertheless, Washington gripped the tip of his tricorn and dipped it to a soldier, who was wearing rags, and standing at attention while presenting arms as the general rode by. Both Washington's and Lafayette's capes fluttered in the icy wind as snow started to fall again. It didn't take long before they passed by where they were keeping some of the bodies of the dead. Arguably more tragic than the death, though, were the men who were currently suffering. While there had been hundreds of cabins built for men to huddle inside around a fire, there still weren't enough. Some men had makeshift tents while others stayed close to each other and fires, and hoped that they could stand a chance. There was an obvious disparity of who had what at Valley Forge. Almost one in three of the men there didn't speak English. Some spoke Dutchy, some spoke Welsh, others spoke only French or German. These men in particular had no way to quickly barter and found themselves just trying to survive. ​

The 1st Rhode Island Regiment helped rectify this a bit. The former colony, now State, of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations was founded as a haven for Catholics in the English New World. While they had their own superstitions and were sometimes reluctant to help those who weren't their own, they did to some degree offer help to the French and Irish soldiers since they at least shared Roman Catholicism. There were also a number of free black men among the ranks of the Rhode Islanders - they did their best to keep to themselves.​

They rode by thousands of men in awful conditions. Some had their limbs amputated due to frostbite, and were still trying to get around with their muskets. What ultimately stopped Washington right in his tracks was when he found a group of men who were boiling their leather shoes - if you could call them that - which had been provided by the Congress. Some of the men were barefoot while others had wrapped bits of blanket or old shirts or sheets around their feet instead. After the leather bits of the shoes were boiled, they were trying to eat them. Seeing men eat their shoes was too much for Washington. He got off of his horse, followed by the other three men, and approached the group of freezing soldiers. When they realized it was General Washington they all quickly jumped to their feet and stood at attention. Each one of them took off their hats as a sign of respect.​

"Keep your hats on, gentlemen. It's cold out today," Washington said. The men quickly returned the tricorns to their heads.​

"Are you mean eating the leather soles of your shoes?" Washington asked. His voice didn't sound like he was looking to pass blame or humiliate anyone. Instead it sounded like a concerned father. The small group of men looked to one of the younger men - he was probably just 16 - who had bright red hair and a freckled face.​

"General," he said in a distinctly Dutch accent. Washington immediately guessed they were from New York. "We have not eaten in four days. Each day goes by and they say there are no supplies for us. We have to eat something, General," he concluded. The other men, who probably didn't speak much English, looked back at Washington who sighed and nodded his head.​

"You need to eat, but you can't eat your shoes. It might seem like it's worth it now, but in a day or two when they have to hack your feet off, you gentlemen would wish that you had stayed hungry..." he said. Washington's words tapered off as one of the men gnawing on a piece of leaether looked annoyed.​

"Wat horen we dan te eten?!" the man said in Dutch to the General. Washington didn't flinch, but both Captain Gore and Lieutenant Smith stepped forward.​

"Tell him that he cannot speak to the general that way, if he doesn't again he'll be shot," Smith quickly retorted. Washington resisted the urge to cringe at Smith's harsh words and instead put his hand up to stop the young man from translating Smith's threat. Washington reminded himself of his Christianity and looked at Captain Smith.​

"Mister Smith, fetch me my satchel," Washington ordered.​

"Yes sir," Captain Smith replied. Smith walked over to Washington's horse and removed a leather messenger's bag. He walked over to the general and handed it to him. Washington looked inside of it, and then closed it. He gave it to the 16 year old boy.​

"In here is enough food to last you five until tomorrow night. I'm going to personally order that the distribution of supplies begins on this side of the camp tomorrow. You and your friends are going to get food. If you do not, come to the officer's headquarters and request to speak to me... Please tell these other gentlemen," Washington said. Gore, Smith, and Washington watched the young man translate into Dutch and then offer the messenger's bag to his friends. They looked inside and saw bread, pieces of summer sausage, cheese, and even a jar of pickled figs.​

"Thank you, General!" the young man said with great enthusiasm. The men started dividing the food amongst each other. Washington walked back to his horse. He saw that Lafayette was staring at some men in the distance who were drilling with their rifles, which had bayonets affixed to them.​

"Mister Lafayette, how are you suppose to train the army when they don't even have the mechanisms needed to fire their guns?" Washington asked as he stood next to his compatriot, and friend. Lafayette shook his head and shrugged.​

"Jeneral, I will continue to train dem, even if ze Congress sends us sticks and rocks to fight with," he said with the steely resolve one could expect from a proud Frenchman. Washington patted Lafayette on the shoulder. ​

"I need some time to think, Mister Lafayette. Continue to comfort the men, give them any more supplies we have on our horses. We have plenty back at the headquarters. I'm going to ride into the woods," Washington said.​

"Yes, Jeneral," Lafayette said. He waited for Washington to approach his horse and then took a few steps over to Gore and Smith.​

"Lieutenant Gore, follow Jeneral Washington. Make sure he is not deesturbed," he said in a hushed voice. Gore nodded, tipped the front of his hat, and went off to his horse as well.​

Washington's stallion rode off towards the woods. Gore kept his distance but followed behind the general. ​

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Washington's height and the pure whiteness of his horse made him relatively easy to track in the woods. At some point, he could see Washington dismount his horse, so Gore did the same. He carefully walked through the snow and got closer to General Washington. Gore felt more and more uncomfortable. The British were doing everything they could to bribe the Indians to fight for them. While the patriots often used the woods as a place to launch surprise attacks from, the Indians had likely been doing it for a thousand years before Gore or Washington's family came to this new world. Gore had heard stories of Indians painting themselves to look like trees, or to blend in with boulders or even the snow. He didn't think they were magical or had special powers like some did. He was certain that lead would kill them, just like himself. He readied his rifle and his tomahawk, just in case he would need to use them. He kept a close watch around himself and around the general as he slowly got closer.​

Lieutenant Gore watched as General Washington took off his hat, set it in the snow, bent down on one knee, folded his hands, and lowered his head. He prayed aloud. The eerie stillness of the woods, perhaps with Washington's voice echoing off the trees, made it possible for Gore to hear the otherwise softspoken man.​

"Lord, I pray every day that you support our cause for liberty," Washington said. "Mister Lafayette and many of the other officers are convinced that You are on our side. I will not pretend to presume, Lord, what your intentions are. But I know, within my own conscious, that we are fighting for the dignity of all American men. I have prayed that you give us fortitude and that you deliver us from this cold winter. I have prayed that the Congress comes to understand our struggles here and that they relieve us. I have prayed for a swift end to this endless war... Lord, I will not pretend to presume what your intentions are... But my men are dying in the snow. Our supplies are low and the days are only getting colder. Lord, if you do not want us to win this struggle I will end it. Lord, if it is not your will, then we must stop," he said. Washington started to feel some resolve within him. He didn't need to let 12,000 men freeze to death over his watch. He didn't need to lead an army to fight for a Congress who couldn't even send working guns. He didn't-​

A blinding light erupted from the sky above them, just above the trees. Gore watched as Washington picked up his head and stayed kneeling. Washington's horse didn't even flinch. Gore couldn't make out what was in the light, at first, until he saw the feathered wings of the being. He couldn't see the being itself, but the wings could not be mistaken for anything else.​

"Be not afraid," the light said. Washington stayed still and watched as some of the light slowly drifted down towards Washington. The light took the form of a piece of parchment, and on the parchment was a map. It was a map of North America. Small droplets of ink fell from the heavens onto the map. These small droplets fell in cities that Washington new. New York, Philidelphia, Portland, Providence. But then the map grew. The map showed all of North America, not just the eastern seaboard. It showed parts of North America that Washington wasn't even sure were there. The droplets of ink fell in places west of the Appalachian mountains. Soon the parchment was covered in these droplets, each of which Washington understood to be a city. He was baffled when these droplets extended as far north as Russia (Alaska) and as far south as New Spain (Texas). The parchment grew brighter and brighter until it disappeared into nothing.​

"Fight on for all of those born and unborn, carry on the struggle," the light said. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. Washington continued to stare up and nodded his head. He waited to make sure it was gone and then pressed his face into his hands. Gore could hear the general weeping, which he only did for a few moments before he recovered his resolve. He remounted his horse, looked up one last time, and then started to head back for Valley Forge.​

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"Jeneral, jeneral!" Lafayette called out in the distance. His horse sprinted towards Washington and his stallion. By then, Gore had caught up to Washington and was followed just a few feet behind them. Washington gently pressed his heals on his horse's sides, which made him speed up.​

"Mister Lafayette! What is it?" he called out. Lafayette circled Gore and Washington once, giving his horse time to slow down as he briefly removed his hat out of respect and then returned it to his head.​

"Jeneral, vous must come zee this yourself! It is miracle!" the Frenchman said with excitement, more excitement than Washington had heard from him in ages. Lafayette led the way as Washington and Gore speedily followed on their horses. They hurried through the camp to the officer's headquarters. Outside were a few dozen new patriot regulars standing at attention. They were performing a small honor guard for General Washington, who they were patiently waiting for. As they got closer, Washington could hear men singing and cheering. The American colors were hoisted high in the air on the camp's main flagpole. The tattered thirteen-star flag blew strongly in the wind. Below it were two dozen covered wagons. Men were quickly unloading them. The trio finally arrived on the scene. The singing quieted down and most of the men started to stand at attention as Washington approached.​

"Mister Baker, what is the matter here?" Washington asked one of the officers who were standing near the honor guard. The first thing that went through Washington's mind was that the Congress had relieved him of duty, or worse, they had surrendered to the British.​

"General!" Baker said as he took off his tricorn and gave a brief bow. "The Continental Army captured British supply wagons that were heading to Philadelphia from New York. They were on their way here when they met up with another shipment of supplies that had been smuggled from Philadelphia! I was told that the supplies come from patriot Parishioners of Christ Church, the Freemasons, and farmers who support the cause for liberty!"​

Washington got off of his horse and walked over to one of the wagons. In just one of the wagons were dozens of crates filled with everything from flour and whiskey to dried meat and fish, salt, pickled vegetables and fruit, and anything else they could desire for the army. Washington could feel a wave of emotion flow over him as he felt there was now hope for his army to make it through the winter.​

"Mister Lafayette," Washington said, a bit louder than his normal voice. "Pull out some barrels of whiskey, every man willing gets two cups tonight!"​

The men within earshot, including the officers, erupted into cheers.​

General Washington extended his hand out to Lafayette, who quickly took a hold of it and shook it. "Merry Christmas, Mister Lafayette. Merry Christmas!" Washington shouted to the officers and enlisted that had gathered around. The men gathered under the flag as supplies started to be unloaded. Large portions were immediately unloaded and handed over to those most in need. Thick wool blankets were distributed to the cold, food was given to the hungry, and many of the men drank their share of Christmas whiskey that evening.​