This didn't originally start out as a "fan fic" but as a back story to another project. When I was ten, I'd gotten "in to" the American Revolution and started writing this story. It didn't have a name at the time and now is very different than the one-shots you're seeing today. Some of the story material was the same though and for the most part, many of the characters were the same.
This particular one-shot sprung out of some of the research I did too. Namingly, I'd discovered that the British army had very few problems with adultery, and other various forms of fornication amongst the ranks and camp followers.
Interesting, why was this - you may ask?
Simple - the soldiers had a very effective way of policing each other's behavior. If you messed with another man's wife or daughter, your fellow soldier (he who you offended against) just killed you! These cases went to court martial, but officers rarely found these men guilty of murder for these types of killings in the ranks. They just figured that if he couldn't control himself, he deserved what he got!
Naughty redcoat = dead redcoat!
Harsh by our standards, but apparently very effective!
Admittedly, parts of this are a little dry, because they were originally penned as background information for another project. Same characters as "Redcoat in Fenway Park", but this isn't written in the same linguistic style. It's written in modern language.
Warning: story contains tough subject material, one "f-bomb" and "faggot".
(A little historical context here – "faggot" was a term originally used to denote the individual who was tied to a steak and burned with kindling sticks called "fags". In the colonial British military, the punishment for homosexual behavior was death by burning at the steak. There was one court martial for this during the American Revolution, but only one individual was burned at the steak. It was actually a case of child sexual abuse where a naval officer had sodomized a 12 year old cabin boy. The boy had told the officers at the court martial that "they were in love". They tied the boy to a steak with kindling and made him watch the death of his "lover", telling him that if he grows up and does this, he too will be burned at the steak. The British court martial system made distinctions between willing participants ("sodomites") and unwilling participants (regardless of gender - rape "reap") Due to many factors, including punishment, military culture, religious, morale and communal living in the British army; homosexual behavior amongst soldiers was exceedingly rare, as was male to male rape.)
Also, my advanced apologias to the French people, for my British Colonel's prejudice.
Jonathan the Friend of David
In 1773, Paul returned to London with Major Mims. They made the trip to retrieve William, who was in an orphanage. William was the son of another soldier who'd died of an illness about six months after Paul had arrived in Boston, way back in 1770. This other soldier had saved the Major's life in the French and Indian War. So the Major felt indebted to this man and promised to take care of his child. This other soldier had become Paul's friend.
William, the child was in London. His mother died in childbirth and his paternal grandmother took care of him till he was 8 years old, in which she died of complications due to old age. William spent roughly 1.5 years in an orphanage. The Major paid for the best orphan house they could find for him, till he was 9ish. When the Major's own father died, he took Paul as an orderly and they caught a merchant transport back to England to get William.
When they'd arrived at the orphanage, William begged the Major to take his friend Patrick too. Patrick was about a year older than William, and even more eager for adventure! So, with little more persuasion needed, they became two of the Major's musicians. Major Mims spent about six months in London, settling the affairs of his father's estate and setting his sister up with an aunt, so she could attend school. In the hours the Major was not consumed by other tasks, he spent time with these boys. He taught William how to play the drum, fife, oboe and fiddle and Patrick how to play drum, bugle, cello and another instrument the Major had taking a liking too during the Seven Years War, the Native American flute.
Paul had made friends with another garrison soldier who was left behind in London when his regiment was sent to India. This soldier had been very ill, so once he recovered, instead of sending him along to India, he was reassigned to one of the regiments headed to America. His name was Pinions.
Widow Augusta (Gussie) Meibalm:
They all returned to the colonies in early 1774, just after the Boston Tea Party. Paul had returned to a part time "job" working as a handyman / laborer for an older widow who had befriended him in the streets of Boston, after he helped her up when she'd slipped on the ice. He'd chop wood and help the woman with her garden. Widow Meibalm had become a valued companion of Paul's. She'd invite him in for tea, biscuits and they'd play chess, talk about politics, life and the Bible. Widow Meibalm was in her early 60's, yet still quite a hearty soul.
Gussie was neutral in this conflict, yet her adult children tended more toward the patriot cause. Of her surviving offspring, she had a son and two daughters. The son and one daughter lived in New York City and the remaining daughter lived with her in Boston. Her children were all 30 to 40 years old. The youngest daughter, Margaret was 31 and never married. She worked as a private tutor for a wealthy family on the other side of town.
Gussie was always teasing both Paul and Margaret about how she'd "found" each of them a nice spouse. Now if she could just get Margaret to accept Paul and Paul to desert the army - life would be grand! Margaret was very settled and happy in her teaching career and had absolutely no interest in a British soldier that was 11 years her junior. She was civil to Paul though and did agree to lend some of her expertise and schooling materials for use by William and Patrick. Paul would bring them in with him two to three evenings a week and sit them in front of the fire to work on lessons. This became their agreement, Paul primarily, did work in exchange for their education.
A few months or so had passed when Paul had obtained one more student for Margaret's evening classes. This boy's name was Jonathan. Jonathan was 12 when he came to their regiment from another. He was an exceptionally attractive, yet terribly troubled child. Like most military band members, he'd play at officer and civilian parties.
Than one night a scandal broke in the officers' club. One of the army's young musicians was found dead in a bedroom at one of these galas. After having been sodomized several times that evening, the boy hung himself from the bed post with his drum strap. He was Jonathan's best friend and he was 12 years old too.
Jonathan lost it that evening and out of his own humiliation, he hid in a wardrobe. When a Lieutenant finally found him, he was too frightened to tell the man what was going on. So, this officer sent for another officer, and - in walked a Colonel, followed by a Naval Ship's Captain and a Major. The Colonel was stout but robust, as he strode deliberately across the room toward the terrified drummer cowering in the corner of the wardrobe. He let out a hard sigh as he squatted down and stared at the child.
"This is the British army, not the French army!" He growled angrily at the boy. "WE don't... fuck each other." He whispered as he leaned into the wardrobe. "I want a name."He continued."Who's responsible? Who did this to you and who let it happen?"
Jonathan couldn't respond. He just sat crunched up, trying to make himself as small as possible, whimpering helplessly. The Colonel waited for several minutes before he let out another sigh and stood up. He looked at the men behind him.
"You're a Drum Major!" He bellowed at the Major as he jabbed his finger toward the crying child huddled in the wardrobe.
"Not my regiment Sir!" Came the response, loud, clear and with conviction. "Certain parties, I'm never asked to provide music for Sir."
"So you knew this was happening?" The Colonel questioned irefully.
"I'd heard rumors Sir." The Major answered.
"Lieutenant?" The Colonel turned to the man behind him and pointed at the Major.
"No Sir, I know it's not him, but I have a pretty good idea who is responsible." The Lieutenant answered before he too turned to the Major. "You try Sir, maybe he'll talk to you?" He gestured to the boy.
The Major walked over and gently knelt down on the floor. He put his hand on Jonathan's head, suddenly realizing how beautifully soft his hair was. Jonathan started screaming, flailing his arms, banging his head on the side of the wardrobe and furiously pulling his own hair.
"OK, OK. I won't touch you." The Major sighed as he quickly pulled his hand away.
"What's your name?" He tried a different approach, fighting vehemently with his own need to just scoop the child up and make it all better. When the boy wouldn't respond though, the Major let out another sigh and a quiet prayer. "Lord, what do I do now?"
When he glanced back at the boy, he noticed the child was peeking at him. "What's your name?" He asked with a sad smile.
"Jonathan." The boy whimpered.
"Oh, Jonathan, That's out of the Bible. He was the friend of one of the kings in Israel. Did you know that?"
The boy nodded.
"Jonathan, I know this is hard, but you've got to tell me the truth." The major tread lightly as he rested an uneasy hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "Did your Drum Major know about this?"
Yes, Jonathan nodded.
His response hung silently in the air.
"Who's his Drum Major?" The Colonel asked gruffly.
"23rd regiment is Philips." The Major answered.
"We seem to have this problem here." The Colonel muttered as he picked up an empty cup that had the greatest tastiest new trend – hot chocolate. He turned to the Major. "You were one of the officers who found the tainted coco stash in that office in the customs house, aren't you?"
"Sir, you mean where my orderly had found the bleeding guard on the floor?" The Major looked up.
"Yes. The one the Sodomites had gotten." The Colonel growled.
"Colonel?" The Captain flashed a puzzled look at his friend.
"Yes." The Colonel cleared his throat. "A Lieutenant, a Major and some civilian merchant. They drugged the guard on duty" He sighed with a cringe of disgust. "Then they raped him."
"What?" The Captain gasped. "They ever catch these faggots? We had a court martial not too long ago. We burned one at the steak!"
The Colonel let out a laugh of derision. "The merchant won a duel with the Lieutenant, than the good people of Boston hung him for raping someone else's teenage boy. The soldier couldn't identify the Major. But…." He peered into the cup and gave it a sniff. "I think we just found him!"
"Get out the fags." The Captain laughed.
"No." The Colonel shook his head. "Building the fire would take too long. Anybody have their pistol?" The Colonel growled as he patted his mid-section in search of his own. He turned to his Captain friend
"No, I don't." The Captain answered.
"I do." The Major responded as he pulled his weapon from beneath his coat.
"Charges?" The Colonel asked.
"I know where there are some." The Captain volunteered.
"Good!" The Colonel responded as he took the Major's piece and handed it over to the Captain. "You want the honors?" He offered his friend.
"Yes Sir!" The Caption answered, almost gleefully.
The Captain and the few others who'd gathered around quietly filed out of the room. The Colonel only stood there a minute or so more as the Major suddenly realized he was about to have a frightened little boy in his lap.
"Major?" The Colonel inquired.
"Yes Sir." The Major answered.
"What's your name?"
"Mims Sir, Herbert Mims."
"Well congratulations Major." The Colonel huffed empathetically as he turned and walked out of the room. "You just inherited another drummer."
The Major sat for a long while with Jonathan's wiry little arms wrapped around his middle. Times reminiscent of all the sick, wounded, dying and distraught soldiers he'd sat with over the years. The Major had seen some horrendous things, but he'd never seen anything quite like these recent goings on! He thought about his friend, the Indian chief who sat in mourning for days with a daughter who'd been brutally raped and mutilated. Little did he ever imagine that the next rape victim he'd sit with would be a 12 year old drummer boy in his own army? Something about that was just perverse beyond words.
Ten minutes later they heard the shot from outside.
Jonathan peered up at his new Drum Major. He wanted to thank the man, but he still couldn't open his mouth. Purge the wickedness from the land, were the only thoughts going through the Major's head. The colony's courts would have to deal with the civilian perpetrators, but at least they could do something about the military one - and that they did!
"His name was David." Jonathan finally whispered what few words he could choke out.
"The king, yes you're right. His name was David." The Major smiled kindly.
"No, not the king." Jonathan mumbled as the tears began to gather in his eyes again.
"Oh." The Major suddenly caught his breath. "You mean the boy in the other room."
As it was later uncovered; Major Philips was "pimping" the boys of his regiment.
The "Deserter":
Just after the skirmishes of Lexington and Concord, widow Meibalm had fallen ill. She died only two weeks later and Margaret decided to sell her house and move in with her sister, who'd just moved with her husband and family to Charleston NC. Margaret still wasn't fond of the British army per say, but she and Jonathan had grown quite attached to each other. Major Mims knew there would be more conflicts, so he, Paul and Margaret hatched a secret scheme.
Early one morning, about an hour before revelry, the night watch came and woke Jonathan. It wasn't his turn to perform revelry, but the watch told him that the Major was looking for him. He didn't really want to get up, but Paul told the watch, that he'd make sure Jonathan was out there in a couple of minutes. Paul knew something must be "going down", so he got up too. They got dressed, left the berthing area and walked across the parade ground to where the guard's staging was. There they met the Major.
The Major took Jonathan outside of the gate to where his horse was tied and Paul followed.
"So Sir, what are we in for?" Paul asked.
"The rebels have been building fortifications over on Breed's hill all night." The Major answered as he mounted his horse.
"Oh." Paul replied as he started to pick Jonathan up.
The Major grabbed the boy's ankle as the two men slid him onto the horse in front of the Major. Much to Jonathan's surprise, Paul kissed the said of his face before he let him go. Jonathan just sat there, looking kind of strangely at Paul as Paul went to hand the Major Jonathan's head gear. His tall bearskin grenadier hat had fallen off.
"Do you want this Sir?" Paul asked the Major.
"No." The Major just shook his head.
This made Jonathan even more nervous, but he didn't say a word.
"God speed!" Paul wished them both.
"Yes, may the Lord be with you too, on the morrow, come this battle." The Major responded as he wrapped one arm around his drummer and they were off.
The horse galloped its way through Boston as they transversed a couple of small bridges and headed up a hill toward some goodly estate homes. Jonathan was starting to get a bit frightened by now, but kept telling himself that Major Mims was not like this other drum major. He'd been in this regiment for a little more than a year now and no-one had treated him lecherously.
The horse trotted up a cobblestone carriage path and a man, who looked to be a slave, opened the gate. The two riders proceeded to the front walk, where another slave stood and several others waited on the porch. Jonathan did all he could to hold back the tears while the slave removed his leather gators and the major pulled his regimental coat off him. He watched the slave stuff his army accouterments into one of the major's saddle bags, as the major slid his hand behind Jonathan's knee and gave him a bit of a push. He tumbled off the horse into the slave's arms and once the man set him on the ground, he saw her striding toward him. Out of the front door came Miss Margaret Meibalm.
Jonathan was so overwhelmed with relief that he burst into tears as he went running toward her. His lovely teacher friend, who; (once Paul had told her what had actually happened) promised him no one would ever hurt him again. Jonathan clung to her and sobbed.
Despite it being the middle of June, Jonathan found himself shivering. He looked down at his arms and the white clothing that covered his entire body, except his black shoes. Then he suddenly jumped to his feet and looked all around. The Major was long gone and Jonathan suddenly realized, he was no longer in the army.
After the battle, William and Patrick saw the Major and asked if he knew where Jonathan was. They were looking for him. The Major told them that he had been killed. The both started to cry a bit and then went to look for his body amongst the dead, but never did find it.
They later came back to Paul, who was a little scratched up, but survived the battle well enough. They asked him if he thought Jonathan was cowardly enough to desert?
"No... he wasn't." Paul replied.
William and Patrick just looked at each other.
Do you think he's on his way to North Carolina? Their thoughts seemed to echo each other's.
Two days later they'd managed to sneak away to see if Miss Margaret's house was really empty. Sure enough there was nothing there. Lost in their own thoughts, questions and disbelief they both plopped down on the wooden slat bench that had been built right into the porch. Neither could really believe Margaret or Jonathan were gone, but maybe it really was better for him in the end? Jonathan was a miserable boy and only Miss Margaret's smile seemed to cheer him.
They could still hear widow Meibalm laughing the first time Margaret met Jonathan. Both William and Patrick had been stacking wood for her when she'd invited them in for some tea and biscuits.
Margaret had gone from the kitchen to go upstairs when the three left behind heard her holler from the parlor.
"Oh good heaven's mother. You've even got a redcoat on the floor in here!"
"What? I do?" Widow Meibalm started to giggle as she got up to investigate.
William and Patrick followed her into the parlor and sure enough, there was Jonathan asleep on the floor in front of the hearth.
"Well, look at you!" The widow giggled all the more. "Don't you give a new meaning to the term quartering act!"
William and Patrick got up to leave when William suddenly realized he'd kicked something. They'd both bent down to see what it was and discovered a basket tucked under the seat. William bent over to pull it out and they both opened it up. Inside the basket was full of biscuits and other treats. On the top was a note. It read:
Sweets for the sweetest boys I've ever known.
You were some of the best students I've ever had and I will never forget you, sitting on the floor in front of mamma's hearth bent over your lessons in your little red coats.
May the Lord be with you and protect you in this war.
I pray for you every day and Paul too. Yet do not fear, for one day we will meet again. One day in the eternal land of peace.
In the Love of Christ
Your sister and teacher
Miss Margaret Meibalm.
On the back was the scrawled, broken and shaky writing they recognized as Jonathan's. It said:
To:
William Patrick Paul
I love you