Valley Forge It is 11 o’clock at night and I find myself sitting by the window, engrossed in conversation with the moon. The rest of the world is fast asleep while I am here, alone. The darkness is all-consuming and the cold pierces through my body, numbing my legs completely. Each word I utter causes my lips to crack and bleed. Surrounded by the smoke emanating from our fire, a poignant image emerges of a stunning woman gently cradling her pregnant belly. She is my wife, and this is the last memory I have of her. It must be around 7 months since she was carrying our child. Time has passed so swiftly, and it saddens me deeply to realize that I have missed witnessing our baby’s first words, smiles, and tepees.
What I long for is to return home and embrace my baby girl, tuck her into bed, and assure her that daddy is here to keep her safe. I would sacrifice three decades of my life just to have ten precious minutes with her. Every soldier at Valley Forge faces the dilemma of whether to stay or go back home, myself included. The cabins echo with soldiers defiantly declaring “I either want freedom or death!!” I have been presented with numerous arguments urging me to re-enlist, such as dedication, liberty, and allegiance. However, I remain uncertain if I can bear the remainder of this dreary winter at Valley Forge.
The weather is terrible, with a growing number of people getting sick and supplies running low. I have decided to go home because I feel a strong need to be with my family. This winter has been the toughest I’ve ever experienced. We have tried to keep warm by lighting fires in our cabins, but it hasn’t been very successful and may have made things worse. The lack of proper ventilation in the cabins traps the smoke from the fires, making it hard for us to breathe (Document C). The temperature outside is extremely cold, often dropping below zero! Many soldiers have suffered frostbite and lost limbs as a result (Document B). I would much rather be at home, snuggled under a cozy blanket with my beautiful wife, running my fingers through her long blonde hair while she shares gossip about the latest news in town. I would gladly listen to her talk about rocks all day just to hear her sweet voice again. Meanwhile, soldiers here are constantly at risk of losing limbs and falling ill due to various diseases circulating in this place!
Yesterday, two doctors on-site were discussing the content of Document A, which states that currently 3,989 soldiers are sick out of approximately 8,000 soldiers present. This suggests that nearly half of us are presently unwell. The concern is about the potential number of future illnesses as well. This is particularly worrying because being sick or missing body parts hinders our ability to fight effectively. Ensuring our well-being is crucial because I have personal responsibilities to fulfill. It is essential for me to survive as I eagerly await reuniting with my Family and witnessing my baby girl’s eye color. My loved ones eagerly anticipate my return and depend on me. While I am devoted to serving my country, I also have a commitment towards my two main girls and abandoning them isn’t an option.
If we had the necessary supplies, it would be easier for us to fight. Unfortunately, many of our soldiers lack proper footwear and clothing, resulting in some suffering from frostbite and losing their toes. Additionally, we have been deprived of meat for weeks and instead given a salty lard-like substance with a lower chance of spoiling. The people frequently express their longing for meat. Our hunger is widespread, and due to insufficient rations, we rely on surviving on Fire cake.
Prior to arriving here, I had never encountered such a concept. The process involved in creating it simply requires combining water and flour, followed by baking. Due to the absence of yeast, these fire cakes turn out flat and dense. If we’re fortunate, the cakes lack flavor altogether; however, if luck is not on our side, we discover maggots in our baked cakes that managed to infiltrate our flour supply. The longing to return home and savor the delightful aroma of my wife’s stew simmering over the fire grows stronger. I yearn for the comforting warmth of our cozy home and the pleasure of gathering around the table. Occasionally, self-proclaimed patriots pay visits as a display of support.
The issue at hand is that they come wearing their nice warm clothes and refuse to come near us for fear of catching a disease. How is this supposed to alleviate our feelings? Here we are, fighting for THEIR freedom, and they won’t even come in contact with us?! Some soldiers argue that this will change once the war ends. They argue that we will earn great honor. Despite the drawbacks, they assert that it is our responsibility to fight for freedom. They believe that congress will assist us by sending the necessary supplies, and that the worst part of winter is behind us. However, even after taking these points into consideration, I will be returning home when my term ends.
I cannot bear witness to the suffering of my friends and the countless dead on the roads. I fear becoming like them, succumbing to a painful death in pursuit of change. I must go home eagerly. It is imperative that I see my daughter, gaze upon her radiant face. The warm embrace of my wife’s hugs at night and the gentle touch of her lips on mine are what I yearn for. Missing out on precious moments of my baby’s first achievements is not an option. I can only pray that my fellow comrades will eventually forgive me and comprehend why I can no longer continue.
