My Sisters and Me
Chapter 9

Copyright© 2009 by aubie56

The winter wuz as pleasant as winters kin be in South Alabama. It rained a lot, but that wuz normal, an' there wuz no big storms, so we came through quite well, thank ya.

Once sprin' came, the situation changed. It wuz a nice day an' I wuz workin' in the field tryin' ta git most of the plowin' done while the weather wuz still cool enough. Ta my surprise, a rider on a mule came up ta me an' jumped down. He wuz a kid of 'bout 10, an' all I knew of him wuz that he lived on the far side of the little town where we did our shoppin'.

"Mr. McSwain, the mayor sent me with an important message. He says that some British soldiers are on the way towards us, an' they're stealin' anythin' what will move. He desperately needs ya an' yer dogs ta fight them off."

Well, shit, I didn't have any choice, did I? I sent the boy back with a promise ta be there with my dogs as soon as I could git there. He took off on that mule, movin' as fast as I ever seen a mule move. It would have been funny ifen it hadn't been so serious.

I quickly put the mule up while I gathered all my family an' the other families livin' with us. I had ta send Michael around on my hoss ta tell the other men what wuz workin' in their fields, but we wuz all together in a little more than an hour. I explained why I had called them together, an' what I planned ta do. Everybody agreed ta follow my suggestions, soz we wuz ready afore long.

I left Danny an' one of the new men, along with all of the women, ta defend our homes in case some stray soldiers showed up. Danny kept six of the dogs, an' I took the remainin' 20. The three other men didn't have no hosses ta ride, so they rode their plow-mules. It wuzn't comfortable, but it wuz quicker than walkin'. I took Michael with me, so we had a total of five men an' 20 dogs. Them dogs made a formidable fightin' force, an' all of us men wuz right good with our muskets—of course we had ta be, them muskets helped ta feed our families.

It wuz 10 miles ta town, so it took us 'bout two hours ta git there. We wuz all wearin' our leather jerkin armor an' carryin' a tomahawk or a war club, besides our fightin' knives.

When we arrived, I went ta see the mayor, who also ran the inn/tavern. Josh said, "I got word of 'bout 100 Redcoats headed our way with four cannon an' a troop of 20 dragoons (heavy infantry on hossback). I've got only 'bout 36 militia ta put up against them, that is, provided they all show up. The smart ones may not."

"I've got 20 dogs an' four men with me. How kin we be the most he'p?"

"Seems ta me that the best bet would be fer ya an' yer men an' dogs ta come in from the rear after the cannon, like y'all did the first time. Once ya've taken care of the cannon, then do what y'all kin ta he'p us out. I ain't no great military thinker, so I don't have no grand strategy fer us ta follow."

"That sounds pretty good ta me, Josh. We'll do the best we kin fer y'all. Just remind the men not ta shoot the dogs."

"I know ya will, Joe, an' thanks."

The Redcoats wuz comin' in along the same route as the first bunch did, so that made life a little easier fer us. I figured that we would hit the cannon at the same place we had done afore. That seemed ideal fer our kind of fightin'. We hurried out ta the stream an' hid ourselves in the nearby woods ta wait fer the Redcoats ta git ta us.

We didn't have ta wait very long. The dragoons came first on their hosses an' did a wonderful job of messin' up the ford. They didn't seem ta care, as long as they didn't have ta git their own feet wet. I'd of raised hell ifen I had been their commandin' officer, but he didn't seem ta care, either. Well, the dragoons would be walkin' pretty soon, since the militia wuz 'bout half a mile farther down the road.

Dragoons wuz not really cavalry. They wuz just heavily armed infantry, defined as carryin' a couple of single-shot flintlock pistols in saddle holsters an' a spear that they liked ta call a lance. Ya might git a charge from them when they first met the enemy. Then they would try ta use their spears an' "hoss pistols," but they would dismount an' fight as regular infantry soon after that. I figured that they would be on foot by the time we had ta fight them, an' that wuz all ta the good as far as the dogs wuz concerned.

Close behind the dragoons came the regular infantry. There wuz a lot of cursin' under their breath as they slogged through the stream over the broken ground stirred up by the hosses' hooves. At this point, the infantry wuz marchin' in a narrow column so that they could all stay on the road. When they ran into opposition, they would reform into battle formation of three lines, one behind the other. That wuz great fer fightin' in Europe, but it wuz problematical in North America.

There wuz a gap of 'bout 10 minutes between the last of the infantry an' the first of the artillery. This wuz quite a setup, with four limbers, caissons, an' cannon. Each set wuz drawn by six hosses, an' there wuz four artillery crews of eight men split up, ridin' among the four hosses, limbers, an' caissons. Naturally, everythin' bogged down when they came ta the ford. The heavy cannon bogged down in the disturbed sand of the ford, an' there wuz a bit of panic as the strain between the hosses pullin' in one direction an' the stuck cannon pullin' in the other direction. One of the limbers actually turned on its side, an' two of the caissons threatened ta do the same.

The artillery crews jumped down an' began sweatin' ta git the cannon loose from the sand an' ta right the fallen limber. That wuz what we had been waitin' fer. I gave the crews a few minutes ta git totally involved in their labors afore I turned the dogs loose on them. This wuz not a fight, it wuz a slaughter! Most of the men died because a dog had torn out his throat, but there wuz a few cases of guttin' or other serious injuries. Not a shot wuz fired by either side, though we men did rush in behind our dogs ta use the tomahawk or the war club ta finish off a fallen enemy.

This battle wuz so quiet that there wuz no reaction from the infantry that wuz steadily marchin' away. They kept goin', completely oblivious ta the fate of their artillery. Our dogs had been so effective an' efficient that the whole fight had lasted less than five minutes. What little noise that had been made by the artillery crews had been dismissed as the usual thin' from men who wuz strugglin' ta move their stuff through that stream.

Now what? As good as our dogs wuz, there wuz no way they could win against 120 seasoned troops. We had ta wait until the militia got into the fight so that the infantry would be distracted. When that happened, we would hit the infantry from the rear. Until that time, we just had ta wait.

After 'bout 15 minutes, somebody in the infantry column woke up an' realized that the artillery wuz not where they should have been. I saw a single man trottin' toward us, undoubtedly sent back ta check on the artillery. I let him git as close as I dared afore I sent a pair of dogs ta eliminate him. The dogs ran through the brush an' not on the road, so the soldier never saw them comin'. The dogs ambushed him, an' he died afore he hit the ground.

There wuz a certainty that the Redcoats would send somebody else ta check on the artillery, so I figured that we should set up a full scale ambush. If they sent back a squad, we could have more trouble protectin' ourselves. Therefore, we moved up the road toward the Redcoats. When we got ta him, we dragged the downed soldier into the bushes so that he would not be so easy ta spot as the enemy came toward us. I figured that if they could not see his body, they would not be expectin' so much trouble. After all, the soldier might have stayed ta he'p the artillerymen git across the stream.

 
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