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A/N: Any dialogue taken directly from The Sons of Liberty miniseries is in italics. No copywrite infringement is intended.

Chapter 12

Pitcairn was talking to Joseph while they played chess. "General Washington has given me permission to train the men in firing cannons. Once Mr. Knox gets back with the cannons and we get them assembled we will have a superior number of cannons and placing them on Dorchester Heights as you had suggested would work, but the men must learn how to clean, load, and lit the cannons rapidly first. Do you recall the cannon fire General Gage used at Bunker Hill before the first charge?"

"I do," Joseph said. "It was terrifying."

"That is what is called rapid fire and that is what I want the men to learn how to do. It will come as an advantage in battle later on." He studied the chess board for a moment and then moved one of his pieces.

"Ah! I think I see where you are going …" Joseph said moving his piece. "Checkmate."

"I see I have been too obvious with my strategy," Pitcairn said. He leaned back in his chair. "As far as the cannon training goes; we will not be firing them. That would a waste of ammunition, make too much noise, and possibly attract unwanted attention. The things I want them to learn is how to clean, load, and light them quickly, but it does take five men for each cannon."

"It sounds as if you've got it pretty well planned out."

"I am certain they can learn it although I may have to curse them several times more," Pitcairn said chuckling. He got up. "I best get to bed so I have enough energy to curse the men if need be," he joked.

He stepped out of the tent only to immediately hit the ground as a bullet sailed over his head making a hole in Joseph's tent. He pulled out one of his pistols and cocked it.

"John, are you all right?" Joseph yelled.

"Stay down, Joseph," he called back. "I think we may have a sniper." He hoped Oliver had not woken, but chances were he had as he was a light sleeper. "Oliver, stay inside," he yelled.

"Major, what is going on? Do you need help?" Captain Whiting yelled.

"Stay where you are, Captain. There may be a sniper," he yelled back.

He heard running footsteps and Paul, Dawes, Kelly, and Amos ran up with their pistols out and cocked.

"What happened?" Paul asked kneeling beside Pitcairn who was still flat on the ground with his pistol cocked.

"Somebody took a shot at me as I came out of Joseph's tent. It came from that direction."

Paul signaled to Dawes, Kelly, and Amos who nodded and crept off in the direction Pitcairn had indicated. Amos carried an unlit lantern.

"I think it was someone intending to shoot the first person he saw. I do not think it was someone shooting specifically at me," Pitcairn said. "Although if they were, I have given myself away by yelling."

Amos, Kelly, and Dawes were back after several minutes. "Find anything?" Paul asked.

Amos shook his head. "Some tracks are all."

"Looks as if he was waiting awhile," Dawes said. "Think he was British too. Noticed the prints his boots left are the same kind you're wearing, Major."

Paul got up and helped Pitcairn to his feet. "We better tell Washington. He'll want to send us out to track him at first light and see where he's gone," Paul said.

Pitcairn brushed himself off and took a deep breath.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Joseph asked.

"I am fine, but your tent has suffered some damage though," he said pointing to the bullet hole. "I had better go to Oliver. He probably is very frightened."

Joseph nodded. "I'm going to check on Margaret too."

Pitcairn entered his tent and was immediately pulled into a tight hug by Oliver. "Are you all right?"

"My backside is still undamaged as you can see." Pitcairn chuckled, attempting to make light of the incident. He was not going to tell Oliver what Dawes said about the sniper being British. There was no point in upsetting him even more.

"It's not funny!" Oliver complained, his face buried in Pitcairn's coat. "You could've been hurt again."

"I am sorry and you are right, but whoever it was obviously intended only to scare the first person who came into his range and that happened to be me. His shot was wild and he was not trying to hit anyone."

"Major?" Captain Whiting called.

"Go back to bed now before you freeze," Pitcairn said to Oliver. "And use both blankets, young man."

"All right," Oliver grumbled getting back into his cot and pulling the blankets over him. He was a bit annoyed that his father wouldn't take the incident more seriously.

Pitcairn stepped outside and motioned for Captain Whiting to go back inside his tent and followed him in. "The sniper was British. Mr. Dawes says the prints he left were the same kind as the boots we wear."

"Do you think General Gage may have sent somebody …" he asked paling.

Pitcairn shook his head. "He thinks I am dead and while he may suspect his missing regiment deserted to Washington; he is unable to prove it, but we both need to keep sharp ears and eyes for the next few days."

Captain Whiting nodded. "Are you still planning to train the men in rapid cannon fire tomorrow?"

"Yes. Although I suspect the General will want send a few more men with us. Goodnight, Captain."

Pitcairn went back to his tent. Her checked on Oliver and found he had fallen back to sleep. He tossed his hat on the table and got undressed and into bed. He folded his arms beneath his head and thought about the shooter. He really did not think the ball was specifically meant for him. There was no way General Gage could prove he was not dead except by digging up the trench where he was supposedly buried. Unlike the Continental Army, the Marines did not employ any trackers of the quality of Revere and Dawes so there was no way for the general to definitely prove that Captain Whiting and the rest of their men had turned. He drifted off to sleep but was soon woken by a scream from Oliver. "Oliver?" Pitcairn got up and felt his way over to his son's cot. "Oliver?"

Oliver awoke and grabbed Pitcairn, holding him tightly. "Did you have another nightmare?" He felt Oliver nod and said, "Do you want to tell me about it?" This time he felt Oliver shake his head. "All right. Try to go back to sleep then."

"No!" Oliver said. "Can you stay here with me?" He pleaded.

"Well …" Pitcairn said, wondering if his cot would hold both their weight or tip over. "All right then. Slide over a bit." Oliver slid over and Pitcairn carefully eased himself under the covers. Oliver laid his face on his father's shoulder with his arm over his midsection. "I didn't told you the whole truth," he mumbled.

"The whole truth in regards to what?"

"That I ran away from an orphanage. The people who ran it used to sell the children to people who didn't care about them and just wanted somebody they could work to death. We all knew it. There was this one mean looking couple who used to come every so often to buy another child. A lot of the ones they bought were younger than me. We never saw them again. I ran away because I'd been sold to them and they were coming to take me the next day. I left after it was dark, but I was so scared because of all the strange people …"

Pitcairn could imagine. London was overrun with the seedier types after dark and the child must have been frightened out of his wits. "How did you find Marine headquarters?"

"I heard talk on the streets that they needed soldiers to go to the colonies and where to go to sign up. I told the sergeant at the desk there I was sixteen almost seventeen. I don't know if he believed me, but he said they needed soldiers to go to the colonies so to go and stand with another group of men who were going to Kent."

"Yes, and that is where I first saw you. I remember when the men got off the wagon and lined up and I walked down the line in front of you; I noticed right away you were not of age because you were so much shorter than the rest of the men and your face was smooth so I knew you hadn't started shaving yet."

"I was nervous when you stopped right in front of me and stared at me, but then you said you needed someone to look after your horse and hold her reins when you dismounted and did I think I could do that. When I said yes you told me her name was Regina and to go over and stand by Captain Whiting and take her reins from him."

"I was frankly surprised she allowed you to take her reins without a fuss," Pitcairn admitted. "She barely tolerated Captain Whiting holding them. I thought if Regina thinks that highly of you then you must be someone special." He could feel the Oliver's tears starting. "Was your nightmare about the orphanage?"

"No, it was about Bunker Hill again." Oliver started to sob in earnest. "I was so scared when General Gage ordered me to line up with the rest of the men. Everything …was so loud! The muskets firing …the men shouting orders, the screaming of the ones who were shot …and the cannons firing."

"Shh …" Pitcairn said running his hand up and down Oliver's back to comfort him. "You were a child forced into an adult situation, but in spite of all the horrifying things you heard and witnessed, you still managed to get Regina and I to safety." He let Oliver cry even though the shoulder of his nightshirt was becoming soaked with his tears. This whole thing had obviously been festering inside of him and it was good it was now coming out.

When it seemed that Oliver had cried himself out and was exhausted Pitcairn said, "You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Only a fool would not be scared. Regina and I are alive today because of your actions. I am certain if General Gage had found her protecting me he would have shot us both."

"Really?" Oliver sniffled.

"Yes," Pitcairn replied. He had a handkerchief on the table which he always carried tucked into his sash. "One moment." He got up, grabbed the handkerchief, and gave it to Oliver.

"Thank you," he replied, blowing his nose.

"Now you should go back to sleep if you can," Pitcairn said.

"You'll stay right here, won't you?" Oliver said.

"Yes I will but I hope we do not wake up and find ourselves in the dirt because your cot tipped over in the middle of the night," Pitcairn warned. "These were not made for two people to share."

"It won't," Oliver said with a yawn as he laid his head on his father's shoulder and was soon asleep again. Pitcairn smiled and closed his eyes too.

He woke at first light and quietly got up. He would tell Joseph not to bother with any lessons today and to allow Oliver to sleep as long as he could. He left Oliver a note and then did his morning ablutions, got dressed, and walked down to the stable. He pushed aside the tarp, went inside, and lit a lantern. He went over to Regina's stall. "Good morning, Girl," he said rubbing her nose. General Washington' big chestnut horse with chrome markings and a white face, Nelson*, stood in the stall next to her. Pitcairn estimated that he must stand at least 16 hands high.

He unlocked her stall gate and led her out into the stable and tethered her so he could brush her. He fitted her feed bag over her head so she could eat while he brushed her. After brushing her, he cleaned her hooves and made sure her shoes were not loose. "All done," he said taking off her feed bag and hanging it inside her stall. He took hold of her harness underneath her mouth to prevent her from snatching his hat and led her out of the stable. That was how he broken her of taking hats the first time. He stopped at his tent and peeked in at Oliver and found he was still asleep. He walked in and pulled the blankets up over him and then left again. He tethered Regina outside the mess tent next to Captain Whiting's horse, Devon and went inside. Captain Whiting nodded at Pitcairn. He took off his hat, set it on the bench beside him and sat down across from Washington. He saluted him. "Good morning, Sir."

"Good morning, Major," Washington said. "I hear we had some excitement last night."

"Yes, someone decided to take a shot at the first Continental soldier they spotted I suspect."

"You don't think it was meant for you then?"

Pitcairn shook his head. "The shot went wild and I really do not think he was aiming to hit me. I know Mr. Dawes said that the prints of the boots he wore matched mine and Captain Whiting's boots leading him to believe the sniper was British, but could it have been a Loyalist who is simply angry about what has been happening? Mr. Shaw is a tailor and he often complained about how many of them refused to support the local economy and bought their clothing entirely from England."

"It is a possibility, Major Pitcairn, but I've sent Mr. Revere and Mr. Dawson out to see if they can pick up his trail and to be on the safe side I'm going to send some of the men out with you and Captain Whiting to keep a sharp eye out while you're training the other men."

Pitcairn nodded, finished his breakfast, and got up. Joseph was coming into the tent as he was leaving. "I am going to let Oliver sleep as long as he can today," he told Joseph. "He had a bad night and broke down sobbing. I believe he's been holding many things inside of him and the sniper shot brought them to the surface. I thought I might have to summon you to give him something to calm him."

"How are you?" Joseph asked looking him over.

"I am a bit tired and my right shoulder aches somewhat because Oliver slept with his head on my shoulder all night, but other than that I am fine." He noticed Captain Whiting was ready to leave. "Would you mind checking in on Oliver for me today, Joseph?"

"I'll be happy to," Joseph assured him. As Pitcairn and Whiting left, he called out, "Watch your backsides!"

~*~* Page Break ~*~*

"We've got Mr. Rutledge and Mr. Penn on our side now," Hancock said surveying his written list. "But it doesn't do us a lot of good though. Their fellow delegates are siding with Mr. Dickinson and want to wait to see if old King George replies to Dickinson's letter."

"What does it take to convince these people?" Sam said hitting his hand on the table in dismay. "From what Paul says in spite of the harbor being closed, the lack of food, and other necessities, the Loyalists are still bowing and scraping to the king and having Gage over for tea and crumpets!"

John grabbed his hand and said, "We're getting there, Sam. We're a lot further than we were a month ago. It just takes time."

"I think you could do a lot of good, Mr. Adams by keeping the more reluctant delegates in North and South Carolina in a nervous state by pressing them with the disasters that could happen to their colonies if they don't vote for independence," Franklin suggested.

John had a copy of the letter Dickinson had sent to the king on the July 5th, the so-called Olive Branch Petition. What the delegates didn't know was that the king had refused the petition and upon word of Bunker Hill, had declared the colonies in rebellion on August 23rd and urged that all efforts should be made "to suppress such rebellion, and bring the traitors to justice."**

Sam picked it up and read it aloud in a mocking tone of voice, "Your Majesty's Ministers, persevering in their measures, and proceeding to open hostilities for enforcing them, have compelled us to arm in our own defence, and have engaged us in a controversy so peculiarly abhorrent to the affections of your still faithful Colonists, that when we consider whom we must oppose in this contest, and if it continues, what may be the consequences, our own particular misfortunes are accounted by us only as parts of our distress. That your Majesty may enjoy long and prosperous reign, and that your descendants may govern your Dominions with honour to themselves and happiness to their subjects, is our sincere prayer."***

Hancock winced. "Even I would never think of writing a letter that was so …so excessively ingratiating."

"John thinks by sending a letter like this, the king will be flattered enough to pay attention to it," Franklin said with a shake of his head.

"All the king will do is wipe his arse with it anyway," Sam grumbled.

"Crude, but most likely true," Franklin agreed.

"If we can wean the other delegates away from Mr. Dickinson's point of view, we will have enough delegates on our side to call for a vote," John said.

"I think it's time to write it down. A document, a declaration of our independence," Franklin said.

"The writer should be someone outside the Boston circle," John added.

"A Southerner; they're the ones holding us back. Someone young, someone likeable," Franklin stated.

Sam laughed. "Exact opposite of you."

Everyone laughed and then John announced, "I have somebody in mind."

~*~* Page Break ~*~*

Paul and Dawes came back shortly after breakfast. They both saluted Washington and Paul reported, "We followed the trail until we lost it. He had a horse, but we couldn't tell anything from the tracks the horse left."

"The trail was leading towards Boston when we lost it," Dawes added. "But whether Pitcairn is right and it's a disgruntled Loyalist rather than a Redcoat, we can't say for sure."

"Thank you, Gentlemen. I'm going to post you out in the area where the shot came from for a couple of nights in case he comes back again. I've got Sergeants Kelly, Garrigan, and McFarland plus Private Asher keeping watch on Major Pitcairn and Captain Whiting."

Oliver sat outside their tent by the fire with a long stick he was raking through the ashes the fire had left. He had found his father's note when he gotten up a half-hour ago telling him he would cancel classes with Joseph that day and to sleep as long as he felt he needed to.

Margaret came out from between the tents and walked over to him. "Hello, Oliver.

Oliver got to his feet and stuttered, "Umm …hello …Mrs. Gage."

"I was just going to lunch. Would you like to join me?"

"All right," he replied and then remembering what his father had told him; he offered Mrs. Gage his arm. She took it. "I heard from Dr. Warren about what happened last night. You must be very upset."

"Yes, Ma'am and kind of angry too."

"And why is that?"

"Because my father won't take it seriously. He just brushes it off when somebody could be trying to kill him. He's out there now in the open, training the men in rapid fire of the cannons."

"I heard General Washington did send Mr. Revere and Mr. Dawes out at first light to see if they could pick up the tracks of whoever did it and from what Dr. Warren says they're the best trackers possible.

"But suppose General Gage found out my father isn't dead?" Oliver asked.

"I don't see how Thomas could. He's certainly not going to dig up a trench full of dead men to find your father," Margaret said trying not to laugh as she pictured her former husband, his black neckerchief pulled up over his mouth and nose, furiously digging up the long trench.

"Well, they never found his body or Regina and I'm pretty sure he knew how attached Regina is to my father. Maybe he thinks he was wounded, but was able to pull himself up on her and ride off somewhere."

"Have you told Major Pitcairn how you feel? He may not realize that you're so worried about him."

Oliver shook his head. "I suppose I should tell him. Maybe he doesn't realize it," he admitted.

They entered the mess tent. Joseph was already there talking to Paul and Dawes. Oliver sat down on the bench next to Joseph while Margaret sat down on a stool on Joseph's other side. "Did you find out anything about the shooter last night?" Oliver asked

"Nothing definite," Paul replied. "We couldn't tell for sure if he was a Redcoat or a Loyalist."

"General Washington is sending us out tonight to keep watch in case he comes back," Dawes added.

"Will he come back to the same place?" Oliver asked.

"Depends on his shooting skill and it fortunately didn't seem very sharp last night," Paul answered.

"So maybe it's not that General Gage suspects my father might still be alive?"

"Can't say for sure, but I'm leaning more towards your father's idea that it is a disgruntled Loyalist," Dawes replied.

It was almost sundown before Pitcairn and Captain Whiting appeared in the mess tent. They both saluted Washington and sat down. Pitcairn took off his hat and sat down next to Oliver while Whiting sat down across from him.

"Well, how did the first day of training go, Gentlemen?" Washington asked.

"I trust Private McClendon or anyone else for that matter will not attempt to load more than one ball into the bore again," Pitcairn said dryly.

"Especially when you told him in no 'uncertain terms' as I always like to describe your cursing, that he had not only blown up his cannon, himself, and his crew, but the cannons and crews on both sides of him," Whiting said.

"They have to learn how to do it correctly and fast because as we both know the Royal Navy is able to reload their cannons in 90 seconds. I know they are good men and they will learn, but it will take time." He turned to Oliver and said, "And this does not mean you are allowed to curse, young man. If I ever hear of you cursing; I will borrow Mrs. Adams' wooden spoon."

Oliver grinned. "Yes, Sir."

"I am certain none of them will have forgotten today's 'lesson' by tomorrow either," Washington replied.

Kelly grinned. "Tis' certain Private McClendon won't. I think his ears were almost as red as his hair."

They went on to discuss the most recent news from Paul's trip to Philadelphia. On October 13, 1775, the second Continental Congress had authorized the construction and arming of the Continental's first navy.

Members of the first naval committee included some of the most influential members of the Continental Congress including John Adams, Joseph Hewes, John Langdon, Richard Henry Lee, Silas Deane and Stephen Hopkins, the committee's chairman.****

"England does have a far reaching advantage to us with their navy so I am glad they recognized that and are going to start building a navy," Pitcairn pointed out. "I do not know about these other gentleman, but Mr. Adams is the voice of reason so I know the naval ships will be well built and powerful."

Pitcairn and Captain Whiting had left Regina and the Captain's horse, Devon, named after the English county he had come from; he had been born in Plymouth, tethered outside the mess tent. When Pitcairn, Oliver, and Captain Whiting came out Oliver said, "I'll brush and feed Regina tonight and I can brush and feed Devon too if you like, Captain."

"Thank you, Oliver," Captain Whiting replied nodding.

Pitcairn showed Oliver how to hold Regina by her halter rather than her reins. "That way she is unable to turn her head to take your hat. That is how I broke her of it the first time. You may take Devon's reins. He does not take hats." He watched as Oliver led both horses towards the stable.

"Oliver seems to be adjusting well to having a permanent home," Captain Whiting remarked.

"Yes, but we had a rough night last night. He told me about what it was like in the orphanage he ran away from and he had another nightmare about Bunker Hill. I think his upset over the sniper probably led to it."

"I hope that sniper is just a dissatisfied Loyalist."

"Mr. Dawes seems to be of that opinion." He bade Captain Whiting goodnight and went into his tent. He wished he had a book to read. He had had several books at Mr. Shaw's house a few of which had been purchased from Henry Knox's bookstore. Mr. Knox had always enjoyed discussing strategy with him, but he knew Knox was trying to draw out specific information so he kept his comments general and had warned his officers to do the same.

Oliver came back from brushing and feeding the horses. "Thank you for offering to brush and feed Devon for Captain Whiting," Pitcairn said.

"Well, I figured you must both be pretty tired after training the men today so …" he shrugged. "Can I talk to you about something?" He sat down on his cot.

"Yes." Pitcairn said. He picked up the chair he had been sitting on and set it down beside Oliver's cot. "What is it you wish to talk to me about?"

"Well, I'm kind of mad at you because you won't take that sniper seriously. When you talked about getting married, you said we were a pair, but you didn't act like my feelings even mattered last night."

Pitcairn was surprised by what Oliver was saying, but when he thought about last night, he realized he had dismissed Oliver's worry in a cavalier fashion. "You are right and I am sorry. Thinking about it I do realize now that I dismissed your feelings in a high-handed manner. I have no excuse for it except possibly that the shot distressed me more than I wanted to admit to you or myself."

Oliver smiled and said cheekily, "I understand, but don't let it happen again or I'll have to borrow Mrs. Adams' wooden spoon."

"And I will certainly deserve it," Pitcairn replied ignoring his cheek. "Now, I think it is time for you to get to sleep, young man."

"Are you going to sleep too?"

"In a bit. I want to write out some ideas while they are fresh in my mind. Will the lantern bother you?"

"No, I learned to sleep under all kinds of conditions in the orphanage."

"Perhaps you will tell me about it when you feel up to it," Pitcairn said.

"Maybe," Oliver replied.

Pitcairn sketched out his ideas for tomorrow. The most important thing the men needed to learn was to clean the cannons between shots and that is why each cannon crew had two scrubbers. He finished writing, sprinkled cuttlefish bone powder over it, waited a few second and then blew it off and folded it and left it on the table by his sash. He moved the chair over beside his cot, checked his pistol, and then laid it on the chair so it would be within easy reach if he should need it.

*General Washington's horse Nelson was a gift from Brigadier General Thomas Nelson. horsenetworkdotcom/2016/07/tk-things-know-george-washingtons-horse-nelson/

**Quote from King George courtesy of wwwdotHistorydotcom

***The wording of the Olive Branch Petition is courtesy of wwwdotHistorydotcom

****The Continental Naval Committee is courtesy of wwwdotHistorydotcom

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