Chapter 7: A WAR FOR THE AGES
Well it had started. It being the revolution. The year being 1776 the war had started on American soil. The first shots fired between Americans and the Brittish had been fired at Lexington-Concord. The Americans, as they now called themselves, were using groups of untrained minuteman and small militia's who in Carlisle's opinion were exactly the greatest fighting force. However, this didn't damper there spirit, they continued fighting and it seemed to Carlisle that fear lay heavy on the hearts of the people of Boston.
He had fewer patients and he now spent more time in town. It was late fall so he had a reasonable excuse to wear his thick coat and hat. He listened for news on the war. American troops were moving to Valley Forge Fort for the winter. This worried him, soldiers at such close quarters meant illness was sure to spread, if you through in limited food, space, and blankets they could have a serious problem.
He sighed to himself as he though of the sick people he had treated in the last few years. The main problem was a diesease called Smallpox. It spread a rash over the sick persons body, causing it to itch while spurring a high fever, dry throat, loss of appetite which when combined, more often than not resulted in death. Many people had died and cramming people into such close quarters might result in a outbreak.
As he passed a small town in the new town he lived in Carlisle heard a fragment of an interesting conversation. "Yeah I heard Benedict turned over the West Point locations to the British because his wife likes to party a bit to much." This statement resulted in a laugh from everyone at the table. Carlisle quickly stepped into the door and took a seat at a neighboring table.
"Yeah," siad a man with a scraggely gray beard, "How did they catch him?"
"Heard they caught him as he came back from the British camp. He turned in the plans and they had to move all the troops from West Point out before the lobster backs got to 'em." Answered the man who had spoken first.
"What are they gonna do with the traitor?" Asked a younger man. "They gonna kill 'em?"
"Don't know," answered the bearded man, "Probably just lock him up for a while. He was a pretty good general up 'till now" Carlisle's heart pounded in his chest, would they kill this man? Would he hang from the gallows as countless others had done in this dark war? He hoped not.
He had noticed a change in all the people. The war had taken its toll on them. They had lost fathers, husbands, sons and countless loved ones from the war and all the destruction it carried with it. Whether lost to disease, famine, or enemy bullets the relatives people lost were gone forever. It had changed them making some of them hard hearted and openly cold to everyone, while others became somewhat lost. They lived day to day, not really caring about what was going on, the strength had crumbled taking their hope and drive with it. It sickened Carlisle and caused his heart to hurt seeing everyone like this. He just hoped, for everyone's sake, that this deadly was would end soon.
In the days and weeks that followed, the news did not improve. Now, to supplement everything else the weather had taken a freezing turn, causing food to become more scarce and shelter for the troops to be a necessity. The cold brought on new illness and with it came death. People were dying of smallpox, various infections, and turberculosis left and right. There were not enough doctors to keep up with demand, not that there was much they could do anyway. While the sickness was rampant, the doctors were few.
