I don't own The Patriot
The end is the beginning...the beginning is the end. That was once a confusing paradox to Gabriel Martin that he had given up on understanding. Now it seemed to make sense if one was living through the time of war. At the end of this war, it was going to be a new beginning for everyone if the colonists were to win their independence and the beginning of this war was going to be the end of monarchial rule, but at what cost? A lot of people who were near and dear to his heart had all died and there would be no meaning of independence to them after this war was over. The constant thought of 'what would have been' if he hadn't joined the Continental Army in the first place, was a question in his mind but to his dismay, that thought wouldn't bring neither Thomas nor Anne back. However, he wasn't the only one to have lost those who were important to him. There were people whom he had been neighbors with that had lost husbands, sons, wives, and even daughters through this war. Fighting for this independence was important to the colonists, but the rate of death was too much to bear for those back home. Being back home had put Gabriel's mind at ease, that way he could ensure that his aunt and siblings were safe but his father being out in the battlefield without him? He remembered the words that his father had said before he and Anna had left camp, but that didn't mean that Gabriel didn't want to fight alongside him. He had joined the army to fight for its independence after all, even though there were moments where he wished he could turn back time and keep both Thomas, Anne and her family safe from harm.
Then his attention turned over to Anna whose back was turned to him in the bed that she lied in. Her body had been taken over by exhaustion from the traumatic experience that she overcame after discovering the death of Alice. Her scream echoed in his mind and the moment where he and Charlotte had discovered what had happened, Gabriel felt the need to pull her away from that situation. He didn't know how long she had been sleeping but judging from the rays of the sun, it had been hours and he didn't know when she would awaken from her slumber. What he did realize was that it was the seventeenth of January and according to his father's letter the date of the battle had arrived upon them and every other family whose sons and husbands participated in the war. He got up from the bed, leaving Anna alone, and walked outside from the shack. Right before him, he noticed his aunt standing by the shoreline looking out into the horizon. The breeze was cool and gentle and the waves from the ocean created a calming atmosphere almost as if there was no war happening elsewhere.
Charlotte turned around when she felt a presence behind her and smiled upon seeing her oldest nephew.
"Something on your mind?" Gabriel asked as he approached his aunt and joined her.
Charlotte gently shook her head at him. "I was just thinking of your father's letter," she said and looking down at her hands that were gently clinging onto the letter that Benjamin had written to them a couple of days ago. "It is hard to believe that the day has finally arrived."
Ever since the family had gotten Benjamin's letter, the days had passed in the blink of an eye. Gabriel didn't know how many other battles were going to happen after the Battle of Cowpens, but what he felt was that like any other battle, this was going to be quite the significant one that it could either raise the morale of the colonists or it could defeat them. "He's out there fighting somewhere," Gabriel voiced his thoughts to his aunt, "how do you feel about it?" he asked her.
Charlotte didn't know how to feel. All she could do was look after her nieces and nephews and constantly pray for Benjamin's return. However, the one thing that was important to her was to look after her nieces and nephews throughout all of this. Their safety was her priority no matter what happened. "I can only hope," she simply replied to Gabriel.
James took a deep breath as his grip tightened around the reins of his horse. The rest of the Dragoon cavalry remained a stop of a hill looking out into the battle that was ensuing at Cowpens. He couldn't see from the position where he was standing with his rose, but he felt that the colonists had an advantage in the battle especially with the amount of militiamen that they had on their side. There was an order that the Dragoon cavalry had to wait for to charge into the field but it had not come yet and James hoped that it would never come. Ever since the eve of the battle all he wanted to do was just skip this battle, head back to the headquarters, and take Catherine away with him. Wishful thinking he thought to himself and feeling like a fool for having such unattainable thoughts.
"Prepare the charge!" he heard Tavington's voice commanding his cavalry and watched him unsheathe bayonet.
"Sir we haven't been given that order," James spoke.
This fool Tavington thought and gave Wilkins a glare before screaming "CHARGE!"
James hesitated at first when he watched the colonel galloping. "Charge!" James commanded the cavalry and they followed right behind him.
Time was moving extremely fast that James fought himself inside the skirmish of the battle. Bodies covered the ground from every angle of the battlefield and blood seeped into the soil. What did I get myself into?! James thought and maneuvered his horse away from a charging colonist and crashed with another one. He felt the man's hands gripping into the fabric of his pants, ready to pull him off the horse and kill him.
"You traitor!" he heard the militiaman cursing to him but James, with the force that he could muster, pulled away from him and galloped away into the different direction with his horse. Before he knew it, dirt exploded right in front of him and his horse, causing the animal to rear up on its hind legs and throwing James off the horse's saddle. He felt his body crashing onto the ground and going numb. He didn't know how long it had passed when he regained consciousness but it took a minute to realize that he hadn't died from that explosion, though his horse hadn't been so lucky. James staggered to his feet and was able to get out of the way from a Frenchman that was fighting one of the British men. I can't do this! he let his inner thoughts take over him. It didn't make sense to think such things, but right now the only reason for him being here was to survive through this battle.
"Wilkins don't just stand there!" he heard his surname being yelled at him from a fellow British Dragoon. Where would, or rather should he go to? Right in the middle of the battle where he was likely to get killed? If he did, he would be labeled as a 'traitor' if he didn't, he would be labeled as a 'coward.' He knew that he would lose in both situations and he would meet his end one way or another.
"Get him!" he heard a voice behind him and before James knew it, he felt two arms linking with his and attempting to push him to the ground. They were militiamen and one of them held a dagger right to his throat. "Still loyal to your king Wilkins?" he heard one of them taunting him and felt the steel of the blade sink deeper to his throat.
Even though there were two, James felt that he had the advantage. He was well-built and with one move to the side, he flung one of the militiaman off him and punched the other that was holding the knife to him. He was about to pull out his gun and shoot them there, but instead he left them on the ground and hurried away from the skirmish. He felt as if he was out of place in this battlefield, almost as if he was the only one not participating in the fight but he just couldn't find it in himself to continue. Should he just throw his arms up in surrender and become a prisoner of war? He internally shuddered at that thought, who knows what would happen to him if he was a prisoner of war under the colonists.
He heard gunshot whizzing past him, cannonballs exploding onto the Earth, soldiers from all sides being thrown to the ground. He just needed to get out of this place but whenever he turned, he was met by the enemy or dirt being blown in front of his face. James made a run towards a secluded area and the moment that he tried to do so, he felt pain rising into his leg and felt his knees crashing to the ground. "Agh!" he seethed the air through his teeth and turned his leg over where he noticed a bullet hole and blood seeping through his leg. Whomever it had been to take that shot, he had been lucky enough that it hadn't been aimed at a vital position of his body where he would be fatally wounded.
Behind him, he heard the galloping of hooves and noticed the glint of a bayonet rising into the air. James quickly rolled out of the way as the mere second that they bayonet made contact with the dirt. He looked up and noticed his attacker galloping farther with his horse but taking into detail that green and red uniform that his attacker wore, James knew that he needed to get the hell out of this to muster as much strength as he could, James got onto his feet and made way towards that secluded area where he hoped he could remain hidden until the moment this war was over.
Tavington cursed under his breath when his bayonet missed the captain. When the cavalry charged for the ambush, he had noticed that the captain was hesitating to even fight into the war or even kill any of the enemies that they were fighting with. To the colonel, this was the act of a coward and a traitor to the crown and he didn't want to have a traitor within his army. Tavington had been reluctant about Wilkins joining in the Dragoons from the beginning. He had started out as being loyal and fighting against the rebels, but ever since the appearance of that woman and his initial hesitation in burning the church, Tavington had been keeping a close eye on him even if no one had taken notice of it.
Just like the words that Wilkins had said about a traitor, Tavington had tried to make sure that the captain understood those words by killing him in the battlefield. However, luck had been on the captain's side the moment he rolled away from the colonel's attack. If Tavington was to survive this war, and he felt that he would, he would make sure that Wilkins faced the worst of a traitor's death. However, that moment would have to wait for his eyes fell upon the militiaman known as Benjamin Martin who was charging towards him with the American flag.
James didn't know how much time had passed when the sound of the retreat occurred. He came out of his hiding place and noticed the colonists celebrating their victory of the battle whilst the British army retreated from the field. James limped over to the retreating army as he tried his best to avoid looking at the corpses that were splayed across the field. From afar James could sense the loss of morale from the troops while some limped and other carried those that were wounded from the battlefield. There was one man that James didn't see within the retreating army.
"What of the colonel?" he heard one of the surviving Dragoons ask the others from the cavalry.
"What of him?" the other responded, "he is dead."
At those words, James didn't know whether he should feel relieved or continue to watch his back. All he knew was that after this battle, he wanted to get out of it.