WEN: 2260EE
Exhibitor Name: Jeshua Wickham
Division: Creative Writing--
Class: 04 Short Stories (
the lieutenant is to call off his men before becoming seriously engaged with the enemy. It is imperative that you do not let them track you back.” Henry mentally checked to make sure he remembered everything, and then set off back towards camp. The lieutenant was pleased to hear they had another commission to perform. Life in the swampy forest could be rather dull. The men were immediately informed of the plans and all was prepared before nightfall. Early the next morning the men were woken quietly, each grabbed his rifle and slung his pack over his shoulders, and they set off. At five they arrived in the clearing of oaks to find Kennedy and his men shrouded in the early morning mist. A shadow stepped out of the gloom. “Hisst, George, is that you?” “Yes” came the whispered answer. “I thought you’d never arrive, lieutenant. You know the plan?” “Yes, how many men do you have, Colonel?” “Thirty. Picked men too.” “Good, that makes fifty some total, that ought to be enough.” They all fell into place and set off through the damp mists. Soon the grey shadow of a sign post loomed up before them. It was the road. One arrow pointed Northwest to Breton, the other south toward the river crossing. They turned left towards the ford. The tramping of the booted feet sounded unnecessarily loud on the smooth wood planks of the wide bridge. Crossing over to the other side they settled down under cover, the bridge in full range of their cocked rifles. The lieutenant whispered some hasty directions. “The general is marching up to attack the British stationed in Breton. He has also been informed that a large body of troops is marching along this road toward Breton. Men are gathering there. You all saw the small body of troops we attacked this morning, they are only the beginning. The general does not want these men joining their friends over in Breton, understand?” The men were ordered to surround the bridge from all angles, making their force appear to be larger than it was. The thick mist still hid their actions from any probing eyes. The chilly dawn was in the air when they heard the tramping of boots coming down the road and the jingle of bit and bridle. The watching eyes sharpened their gaze. The first of the British had just stepped off the end of the bridge when the order was given. The rifles fired as if one. The startled column broke into disarray as many of its men fell,
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