Benjamin Martin watched his militia and the regulars of the Continental Army running from the English when he knew they were mere inches from victory. He searched for some way to turn them back to the battle as he ran, shouting to hold the line.
His son, Gabriel, flashed through his mind. He had always been very patriotic, mending an old flag he had found. Benjamin had taken that flag and continued to mend it after Gabriel's death. He realized that that was the key. Patriots could be turned with a simple gesture.
Benjamin reached down and picked up a flag that had been tossed aside by a fleeing army regular. The thick wooden pole felt more at home in his hands than his musket had. He hoisted the heavy, mud-soaked flag and waved it around, continuing his run to the decimated building on the hill.
Young soldiers, barely sixteen, saw the man with the flag streaming behind him. Their hearts swelled with pride at the sight of the red, white, and blue that they had fought for. They envisioned their colony as one of the stripes, and one of the stars. Almost instantly, their feet had turned, their motivation renewed. Whenever another would turn to run, they would think of their freedom, embodied in the simple stars and stripes of their flag, and continue the fight.
Benjamin Martin, at first fighting to protect his son, now fighting for revenge against the man who killed him, finally understood patriotism. He understood why these boys would give everything, their lives, to protect this flag. To protect their homeland. To create a new country. He understood the true meaning of Patriotism. He was The Patriot.
His son, Gabriel, flashed through his mind. He had always been very patriotic, mending an old flag he had found. Benjamin had taken that flag and continued to mend it after Gabriel's death. He realized that that was the key. Patriots could be turned with a simple gesture.
Benjamin reached down and picked up a flag that had been tossed aside by a fleeing army regular. The thick wooden pole felt more at home in his hands than his musket had. He hoisted the heavy, mud-soaked flag and waved it around, continuing his run to the decimated building on the hill.
Young soldiers, barely sixteen, saw the man with the flag streaming behind him. Their hearts swelled with pride at the sight of the red, white, and blue that they had fought for. They envisioned their colony as one of the stripes, and one of the stars. Almost instantly, their feet had turned, their motivation renewed. Whenever another would turn to run, they would think of their freedom, embodied in the simple stars and stripes of their flag, and continue the fight.
Benjamin Martin, at first fighting to protect his son, now fighting for revenge against the man who killed him, finally understood patriotism. He understood why these boys would give everything, their lives, to protect this flag. To protect their homeland. To create a new country. He understood the true meaning of Patriotism. He was The Patriot.