There are some moments in life that just can't be described in words.
I still remember the moment. The rifle slung over my back. My faithful horse, Solitude galloping underneath me. A field covered in a blanket of stars shining above me.
If my soldiers weren't getting blown to hell, I probably would have enjoyed it. Trying my best not to let my fear overtake me, I gazed around the horrific sceme displayed beside the river. The smell of gunpowder and the sound on gunshots filled the air, and I did my best to comfort Solitude.
Gazing around, the only thing I seemed to see was red. Redcoats battled with the soldiers bathed in blue, and red blood and spattered on the previously vibrant grass.
None of this detered me, however. Trying my best to remain confident, I gripped the reins on Solitude a bit tighter and felt the reassurance of the rifle bumping against my back. Nathaniel Green may be the general, but this was my battle, and I was about to finish it.
I wasn't sure when the moment happened. All I remember is the sound of a gunshot closer than the others soaring through the air, and suddenly I was knocked off Solitude, sent sprawling onto the grass.
My mind tried to wrap around the situation, but the second thing I remembered was the pain. A searing, horrible, breath-stopping pain that made every limb in your body go numb, and felt like a metal spike was being struck through you.
With nothing more to do, I shrieked. It was like a horrible, inhumane sound that was just purely noise.
And then the cold came.
It wasn't just sudden, like someone whipping a blanket off you in the middle of winter. No, it was how you wouldn't expect it; cold and slow, like water being poured out of a cup.
Weakly, I reached up and touched the corner of my mouth. A thin trail of blood had begun to run down my cheek, and despite the circumstances, I gave a small smile. So this is how it ends. Born in South Carolina, die in South Carolina.
Well, not in the same place obviously. But you know what I mean.
As the warmth began to fade from my body, I gave a small cough, and blood spattered onto my lips. I thought back to Aaron, the Princeton graduate who acted like he had a stick up his ass. Last I heard, he was married.
I couldn't help giving a small smile as I thought of my own wife, Martha. Maybe Burr and his wife would have a daughter just like mine, Frances.
I thought of Hercules, the simple tailors apprentice back from '76. Ha, fta load of shit that had done him. He had gone from so much more than that, becoming a literal, actual spy in the war. I tried and failed to think of something cooler than that.
I thought of Lafayette, our boy from France. Just thinking about it, I realized how amazing it must be to leave your home country and in a completely stranger sountry become a major general. Now that was an amazing accomplishment.
But most of all, I thought of Alex. Ha. What would become of him now? He never did seem to be satisfied. Nathaniel Greene had wanted to hire him, but he always thought he could do better in life. Heck, I didn't doubt him for a second. I always knew he was capable of great things.
By now, he was married to Eliza, and I heard he had a son a year old, Phillip. I just had that feeling, that feeling, that on top of that, he would amount to more. So much more.
And look at me. I had been born to a father who owned the large slave trading company in British America, and here I was, with the first black battalion. I had become a lieutenant colonel in an army, and here I was, on the grass, dying like a martyr.
As I closed my eyes for the last time, I thought back once more, and decided that if I had to go back, if I had the chance to do it all over again, I wouldn't change a single thing.