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| L'Indépendence |
Chapter 1: Germantown
Cannon fire, smoke, inexpressible thunderclaps which shook the earth. The heavy uniform on his body was torn, his face was covered with soot and mud so, that soon the soft features of his face were difficult to recognize under it. Countless cartridges of ammunition for his musket were behind his back. Some road bread was also there, nevertheless, it had been vanished from his thoughts since hours already. Probability to be discovered by British army attackers was so high, that now and then he wished he could simply not to breathe.
In the middle of the night he and the other soldiers were informed that an attack on Germantown was planned. For some time in this city had been established headquarters of the British under the leadership of Admiral Lord Richard Howe. More than 9000 soldiers had been stationed on his side for the protection and for defense of the city. It would be difficult to bring the city under American control again. André’s limbs hurt. He could not exactly grasp how much kilometers he had behind already.
His way led through the near-by adjacent forest of Germantown to spy out the situation and the hostile troops. He was one of few soldiers who held this task. They had to find out how the British had been formed up to the attack in order to report it later to the commander of the American unit. Should they ever be discovered by the enemies, their death would go silently instead, because the supporting army was many miles away from them and fought out a senseless battle against the British.
He himself stood under the command of the column of Major General Nathanael Greene. An exceptional man, who had broken up the encirclement of George of Washington troops in Brandywine recently and probably, prevented carnage of the American army with that. He also had fought in this battle, which ended again with a high number of victims on both sides.
André smelt only destruction, blood and death. But it was clear for him what he fought for. For the ideals which founded a new world system. If he died for it, his death would have fulfilled at least for this his purpose.
“André! Go in cover!” he felt he had been unexpectedly torn to the ground. He fell hard with the weight in his luggage behind his back to the frozen forest ground. For some short time he couldn’t breathe, however then it became conscious to him, why Jacques had acted so.
Not far from them British army’s soldiers combed the wood. They carried torches and that’s why it was easy to notice them. A half dozen of them, heavy armed, with determined steps struggled through bushes and high trees past.
Jacques had been attentive as always and had discovered them early enough to escape an unpleasant armed clash once again.
At this quiet minute André remembered his first meeting with Jacques. With countless other men he had been in a tiny room, on the crossing to America. Although the ship was huge, it was loaded to one third with provisions for the Americans. These were only the beginnings of France to interfere into the war. Hesitatingly they had sent French soldiers, because no official agreement had been concluded with the colonial powers yet. France showed its loyalty by shipping provisions and weapons to America instead. At the same time men enlisted as volunteers to support and strengthen the war overseas. There were enough French lads and fathers who wanted to leave their land in hope for a better life. They were naive and didn’t suspect, which price they would pay for it. However, contrary to that there were also some, who simply detested England and saw their large chance to pay off old scores to British in this war, not important for which reason. Yet, how often had it occur during the centuries already that wars had been led because of senselessness and lust for power? Countless times. However, this war was different. The Americans stood up for ideals in order to obtain for themselves a new regime, which basically differed from their motherland. And, therefore, André had decided on this war.
There had been no more future for him at home.
He had dedicated his life to one and only person. Yet this person rejected him. He lost her to another man. In that evening when he had persuaded her to visit the ball in order to protect the queen, he lost her forever. Since he saw that she hadn’t done this for the queen or for herself, but only because of this other man.
And from then on it was clear to him that he could never win her for himself. Rather he would be desperate of his feeling to her and likely would hurt her one day thus.
He wanted to spare her that and therefore he had made the decision to leave her.
She hadn’t even tried to dissuade him from his intention. And he didn’t know whether this made him sacrifice his life immediately, whether he should drown himself in the river or should bring his life to an end fighting for just cause at least.
So he was on board on the way to North America. He had made this decision owing to his last spark of hope.
And it was at the first night at which Jacques sat down next to him without being asked and offered him a piece of bread “You look like someone who goes to America with the intention to die there,” Jacques said in a tone as if it was the most normal thing in the world, something each person would do every day “I find it strange, doesn’t one get involved in the war with the hope to use changes, which he causes in the fight, for himself once?”
“If everybody thought so, there would have been only half of the soldiers in the war,” Andre had answered toneless, nevertheless, accepted the bread from Jacques.
For Jacques the stranger before him sounded injured and bitter, typical characteristics of a broken man “Aha, you would like to play the hero in America,” this was his conclusion of such type of the soldier who found meaning neither in living nor in other things in the world.
At this moment André had turned and looked at him properly for the first time “Believe me, this is the last I want,” he answered coldly and with such a dark look that it immediately seemed to Jacques that his appraisal of him had been totally stupid.
André recognized the stunned reaction of his opponent. The man before him was about his own age and had blond hair which lay untidy and rough because of the dirt and the dampness of the ship. His eyes were brown and well-shaped, but marked with deep rings under them which sleepless nights always brought with them. Still he looked likeable and candid. André was ashamed for his unfriendly attitude to him at a moment. Normally he had never been like that before, but since he was on the way to war, he believed he need to build a protecting wall around himself. Emotions and feelings were not appropriate and not required at the war, which was about captivity and death.
“What about you? Why have you enlisted as volunteer? Does no family wait for you in France?” André asked at last, while scrutinizing scanty room before him. For a moment he saw a rat rushing between his feet. Not surprising view for him, another rat had searched its way over the human bodies, which sat clasped to each other in the narrowness of the room, one hour ago already.
The stranger answered not immediately, but considered long whether he should be so open towards André, at last he said “I was married,” he took a bite of his bread and then added muttering to that “She has died a few weeks ago...”
It had become clear for André at once that this stranger was without prospects, like he himself. He was broken too, for one felt clearly how much he suffered because of his wife’s death. Even if the stories of both men were different, they were united with hopelessness which they felt within themselves. And André became aware that not only his life was taken by a shadow.
“My name is André,” he spoke at last and stretched his hand toward him as a formal greeting.
It was accepted; “I am Jacques Lumaire, André.”
And up to this day he had never asked Jacques about his family again. Jacques never wanted to find out from André what had moved him to devote his life to the war either. But Jacques suspected why André voluntarily exposed himself to danger. A man, who feared nothing and saw no meaning in life, had been deeply disappointed; and namely disappointed in love. In forever lasting love which would never end, even if apparently André wanted to escape from it going to America. However, Jacques knew that André could never forget her, whoever the woman in his heart was.
“We can go on! The red bastards are out of range,” Jacques whispered to André and rose again without forgetting, nevertheless, inclined posture along the bushes. Rumble of the cannons from distant stationed battlefield rolled to them over here again and both hoped insistently that this battle would end positively for the Americans. Too many victims had fallen during the last months already. The British stuck stubbornly to the siege of the colonial powers. At the same time these with their declaration of independence from the 4th July, 1776 had made clear long ago already that they would never bend before their former motherland, regardless of how many soldiers thereby left their lives.
André was glad to know Jacques on his side. He knew that he could trust him and he had preserved him already from various troubles.
But André knew should the day come at which he would have to die, he would ask nobody for help, for he had wanted thus himself and had come to America exactly for this reason.
Some time later he and Jacques approached near the camp of the British soldiers. And also not in vain, they discovered where they had stored their ammunition and weapons.
As fast as they could, they were hurried through the forest back to their unit near the battlefield and reported. Less than half an hour later two dozen soldiers of Major General Greene were given the order to move to ammunition dump of enemies and to blow it up into the air. Jacques and André were among them too to show other men the way.
The attack had been successful and shortly before daybreak nearly all almost intact men came back to their unit.
Greene and the Americans considered themselves as victors already when however the unforeseen happened. Dense fog arose over the battle zone of Germantown and soldiers shot blindly around them. It turned out that they had shot at the second American unit under the command of Divan. The enemy used the chaos and moved forward again more organized and united what forced the troops under Greene’s and Divan’s command to retreat.
Panic and uncertainty led to the fact that the retreat broke up absolutely uncontrolled. André and Jacques did what they had done otherwise in such situations. They had counted on themselves and were broken away with less number of soldiers of the troop which was open target for the enemy now. In the evening 4th October 1777 turned out that the attack on Germantown had failed completely. The army ascertained 673 dead and barely 400 prisoners of war. American offensive was decomposed by victims again. But for André and Jacques who both had survived, it meant only to wait for the next attack. And risk their lives for it again.
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