First Person History

Chapter Nine

The boys left the tent quickly, Austin leading the way with Charlie right behind him. Their adrenaline was pumping, both with the importance of delivering their letter and the realization that they would be crossing the river with General Washington tonight. As the boys came within sight of the icy river, they once again turned left to follow it north to Captain Hamilton’s camp. They were moving much more quickly than before, alternating between running and walking fast. As they followed the river, there was no forest ahead of them as there had been before. The river had several turns in it, with a few trees lining the banks but not enough to constitute a forest. After just a few minutes of traveling, they could even see their destination far off in the distance. The fact that they could see Captain Hamilton’s camp made them move even faster. With no forest to slow them down, they covered the distance quickly, taking less than thirty minutes to cover the mile between camps.

When they got to the third and final camp, the setting sun had not yet touched the horizon. They ran through the camp until they found the headquarters tent with a flag posted outside of it. This time, without waiting, they burst into the tent unannounced.

“Captain Hamilton, we have an urgent message for you from Colonel Knox!” Austin shouted as they rushed into the tent. A young man of no more than twenty-one was sitting at the map table in the center of the tent. He wore the same officer’s uniform that they had seen twice before, but with his jacket off and shirt sleeves rolled up.

“I’m Captain Hamilton,” he stood to address them as they entered the tent. “ What news do you bring me?” Austin, without another word, handed him the third and final copy of Colonel Knox’s letter. Captain Hamilton perused the letter quickly, his eyes taking in the entirety of the message in just a few moments. After reading the letter, he destroyed it in the same manner as his two fellow officers before him.

“And what of you two?” Hamilton said, addressing the boys. “What’s to become of you now that your task is completed? I’m in need of two good messengers to accompany me on this mission, and you seem highly qualified.”

Charlie spoke first. “Yes, sir. We were instructed by Colonel Knox to remain with you as your messengers.”

“Wonderful. I’m Captain Alexander Hamilton of New York, commander of the New York State Company of Artillery. But you already knew that, apparently. What then are your names, lads?”

“My name is Austin, and this is my best friend Charlie,” Austin responded.

“Austin and Charles, splendid. You must be tired after delivering these messages. You’re welcome to stay in my tent and rest for a bit. You’ll need your strength for what we attempt tonight. I’m off to confer with the officers and NCOs of the company, and to begin preparations for the crossing.”

Captain Hamilton donned his uniform jacket and left the tent quickly. They could hear him shouting commands to others as he moved rapidly away from the tent. As they listened to Captain Hamilton’s voice fade into the distance, the boys warmed themselves by the stove and discussed all they had experienced thus far.

“We did it,” Charlie said. “We delivered our messages to the three camps. We did our part to help the American Revolution. How many kids from our class can say that?”

“And can you believe we will be crossing the river tonight with General George Washington?” Austin added, excitedly.

Charlie looked at his friend. Austin’s eyes were glowing. He really did love the adventure that they were on. Charlie had noticed that not only was Austin having a good time but that he was learning a good bit about history as well. But he had something to say that Austin might not like.

“Yea, about that. Austin, listen. That river crossing tonight is going to be very dangerous. And what comes after it will be even more dangerous. A real battle in a real war. You wanted an adventure, and we had one. I was hesitant at first, but I have to admit that this has been fun. But I think we should open the book now and get back home. Back to our own time.”

Austin said nothing for a long time. He and Charlie had been best friends for as long as he could remember. Several times, Charlie’s quick thinking had gotten them out of tough situations that Austin had gotten them into. He knew that Charlie was right. It would be dangerous. But Austin just couldn’t bring himself to leave yet.

“You go,” Austin finally said. “Thanks for coming this far with me. I can’t leave yet. This is the most fun I’ve ever had. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be a soldier. I’m sure that's what I'll be when we grow up. You may be a doctor, a scientist, or a historian, but those things sound boring as heck to me. This is where I belong.” Austin took the First Person History book out of his satchel and handed it to Charlie. Charlie looked down at the book in his hands, turning it over and examining it. But he didn’t open it. Instead, Charlie set the book on the map table and looked back to Austin.

“If you’re staying, then I’m staying too. We’ve come this far together, I can’t leave you now. Besides, your mom would kill me if I came back without you.”

Austin smiled a big smile, reached for Charlie, and gave him an awkward hug. Charlie hugged his friend back, but both boys pulled away quickly and acted like it hadn't happened.

“Thanks, pal,” Austin said to Charlie. “Now, we should try to get a little rest, like Captain Hamilton said. We might be in for a long night.”

With that, the boys lay down on the two cots in the small tent and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Ten

The boys were awakened a few hours later by the sound of Captain Hamilton entering the tent.

“Awaken, lads. The time has come to put our plans into execution. The boats are waiting for us on the riverbank.”

As Austin and Charlie rubbed the sleep from their eyes, they saw Captain Hamilton gathering some books and papers from the map table and placing them into a satchel. He handed the satchel to a soldier standing by the entrance of the tent awaiting instructions.

“Take these and place them in my saddlebag, then take my horse to the riverbank to await further instructions. I shall be there shortly.”

“Yes, sir,” was the soldier's reply, and he quickly left the tent.

The boys exited the tent and found the night air cool and quiet, with light snow beginning to fall. A full moon illuminated the snowy ground so brightly that it looked nearly as bright as daytime. They waited outside the tent for Captain Hamilton to finish gathering his things. Once he exited the tent, the boys walked alongside him as they made their way toward the river. As they walked, Captain Hamilton filled the boys in on some important details that they would need to know in the coming hours. They were to cross the river in a boat with Captain Hamilton and some of his men while his aide, Private Smith (the soldier they saw earlier in the tent) would take his horse across the water on a larger ferry-type boat. After disembarking on the opposite shore, Captain Hamilton would mount his horse and lead the troops on a march to Trenton, a distance of about nine miles. The boys were to stay with Private Smith during the march to Trenton. This being an artillery company, they would stop on a spot of high ground above Queen Street just before they reached Trenton. This would allow them an advantageous position to direct their artillery fire on the Hessians occupying the city.

After a few minutes of walking, the trio reached the river. Standing before them were hundreds of soldiers standing in neatly arranged formations. The boys could see the men shivering in the cold. They looked as though they had been standing there for quite a while, a light dusting of snow had begun to build up on their heads and shoulders. The boys followed Hamilton to the right flank of the formation where his aide, Private Smith, was standing holding the reins of a beautiful white horse. Hamilton spoke to Smith for a moment, then turned back to the boys.

“Charles, Austin, this is Private Smith, my aide. Once we reach the New Jersey shore, you shall meet Private Smith and take your directions from him. From this moment forward, you are never to leave my side unless directed. The same goes for Private Smith, of which he is already well aware. Take a few moments to get acquainted, we shall begin the crossing shortly.”

With that, the boys watched Hamilton walk to the front of the formation and address the large company of soldiers. His speech was spirited and motivational. He told them of the challenges that lay ahead, but also spoke about the glory of the victory that was to follow. His men cheered him wildly and were enthusiastic despite the bitterly cold conditions.

While Hamilton was speaking to his men, Private Smith introduced himself to the boys.

“Good evening, young men. My name is Private Daniel Smith. How long have you been in the service of Captain Hamilton?”

“We just got here today, actually,” Austin answered.

“Right into the action, I see. Excellent.”

“Private Smith, do you expect there’s anybody waiting for us on the other side of the river?” Charlie asked, trying to mask the concern in his voice.

“There’s always that possibility. But with this being Christmas night, I expect that the Hessians have no idea we are coming. General Washington has intelligence that the Hessians have no outpost or patrols established tonight. We should be able to take them by surprise.”

The boys spoke to Private Smith for a few more minutes, going over the details of where they would meet once they were across the river. Then, as Captain Hamilton wrapped up his speech, Smith took the reins of the horse and led it downstream a few hundred yards where the boys could see in the moonlight other horses and men waiting to board several larger boats.

Hamilton gave one final order to his troops and they all began moving at once. It appeared to the boys to be chaos, but it was an ordered chaos as well. Every man seemed to know exactly which boat to board. As the first men began boarding the boats and crossing the icy river, the remaining men lined up on the shore awaiting their turn. Each boat could hold about a dozen men, so the boats would be required to make many trips back and forth across the river, ferrying more men across each time.

Hamilton rejoined the boys and pointed to a boat waiting on the shore. A few men were already loaded into the boat, clearly waiting for their Commander to join them before shoving off. The trio walked together down to the riverbank, Hamilton leading the way with the boys following close behind. Once they were beside the boat, Austin said quietly to Charlie,

“We’re supposed to get in first. The Commander is always the last one in and the first one out.” Charlie looked at Austin for a moment, then said,

“How do you know that?”

“It’s military protocol.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, deferring to Austin’s knowledge of the military. Austin grabbed the side of the boat and hopped over effortlessly. He reached his hand out and helped his friend climb in, a motion they had repeated hundreds of times before, climbing trees and playing on playgrounds together.

Captain Hamilton took one last look at the busy action around him on the Pennsylvania shore before stepping gracefully into the boat. The oarsmen immediately shoved off into the icy water and just like that, Austin and Charlie were crossing the Deleware River on their way to the Battle of Trenton.

Chapter Eleven

Although they were with Alexander Hamilton, not George Washington, the scene before the boys appeared much the same as the famous painting they remembered. Hamilton was not standing, as Washington was in the painting. Instead, he was sitting in the bow of the boat, closely observing the opposite shore and the men disembarking from their boats as quietly as possible in the moonlit darkness. There was also no American flag accompanying them. Charlie did see the colored flag from the headquarters tent in the boat being carried by a very young-looking soldier. Charlie had heard Austin call this flag a guidon. But other than those details, the scene was eerily similar to the painting. Dozens of boats rowed quietly across the icy river just a few yards from one another. In the bow of the boat sitting to the left of Hamilton was a soldier holding a long pole. His job was to push large chunks of ice away from the path of the boat. Every now and then the boys felt a spray of water hit their faces from the slapping of the oars in the water, and the freezing water stung their cheeks. For the most part, however, the boys didn’t notice the cold temperature because their bodies were warm with adrenaline.

The boats proceeded slowly but surely across the river, and after about twenty minutes the boys once again planted their feet on dry land, this time on the New Jersey side of the river. All around them, the organized chaos had resumed. Soldiers were disembarking their boats and hurrying to form columns on a wide, snowy path heading south parallel to the river. Further downstream, they could see the horses and heavy artillery cannons being unloaded from the ferry boats.

The boys kept close to Captain Hamilton, as he had instructed. Charlie thought that Hamilton’s personality had shifted noticeably since they had landed on the New Jersey shore. Instead of the quiet, reserved young officer they met in the tent, they witnessed Hamilton issuing orders and taking control of the organized chaos around him. He never shouted commands in anger but spoke with authority. He did not belittle his subordinates but spoke to them with respect.

As Hamilton continued supervising the soldiers forming columns on the road, Private Smith walked up leading Hamilton’s white horse. Hamilton took the reins from Smith and told him,

“You and the messenger boys shall stay between the first and second columns while we march. Stay alert to any calls for ‘Messengers forward’. If you hear that, come seek me at once. Keep yourselves safe, for you may be vital to our victory.” Smith responded with a salute and quickly led the boys away as Hamilton mounted his horse and moved to the front of the first column of men.

Austin, Charlie, and Private Smith took their positions between the first and second columns of soldiers on the road and within a few minutes, they heard the command Forward, march. With that, all of the soldiers began moving at once, and the great mass of men moved forward along the snow-covered road. The men moved slowly but steadily, staying quiet for the most part but occasionally the boys could hear muffled conversations between soldiers. The men marched with their rifles slung over their shoulders, content to keep their bodies warm through movement. Charlie looked up at the sky and saw the full moon directly overhead. He guessed that it was around midnight.

“I wonder how long it will take to march nine miles,” he wondered out loud to Austin.

“I don’t know,” Austin replied, “ but probably a few hours. I bet we make it before morning. That would be the best time for a sneak attack.” The boys marched on, taking in the sights and sounds. They could see Captain Hamilton at the front of the first column of men on his white horse. He looked majestic in his Officer’s uniform on the beautiful horse in the light of the full moon.

After several hours of marching, the boys were becoming exhausted. They weren’t used to this kind of physical activity or staying up all night long. Private Smith must have seen their exhaustion because he said to them,

“Not much further, boys. Less than an hour remaining, I’d say.”

Sure enough, after less than an hour more of marching, the boys saw Hamilton direct the column off the main road and to the left, in the direction of a low hill. As the columns of marching men veered to the left, the boys could see the beginning of daylight forming in the eastern sky.

Suddenly, Charlie looked at Austin with a look of terror on his face. Austin looked around to find the source of Charlie’s fear, but couldn’t find anything.

“What is it?” Austin asked, confused.

“Where’s your satchel?” Charlie asked urgently.

“The book!” Austin looked everywhere around him frantically but knew immediately that it was hopeless. He hadn’t had the satchel with him since they left the tent. The book was gone.

Title: First Person History

Genre: Middle-Grade Historical Fiction

Age Range: 8-12

Word Count: will be about 20-25,000 when complete

Author: Adam Zimmerman

My project is a good fit because I want to educate children about history as well as entertain them.

Synopsis: Two best friends find a mysterious book in a strange locker at school. The book transports them to whatever historical event the book is opened to. The boys travel to 1776 and participate in Washington's crossing of the Delaware River and the Battle of Trenton. On their dangerous adventure, they meet many famous figures such as Henry Knox, Alexander Hamilton, and even Washington himself.

Target Audience: Middle grade readers, age 8-12ish, students interested in history.

Author Biography: Adam Zimmerman is a freelance writer and emerging author. He served seventeen years in the U.S. Army before beginning his writing career. He is a graduate of the University of North Texas with a B.A. in History. He is married to Danielle and they have twin boys, Austin and Adam, Jr (AJ). They live in Frisco, Texas.