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Post by George Washington on Jun 6, 2014 2:54:46 GMT
Had he wanted this? He had thought so. It was a conscious decision to put on his old uniform - something he hadn't work in nearly fifteen years. He had shown up to that Congress knowing in his heart what the outcome would be. But why? Why did he think he could do this? Could this even be done? Was it possible? Those were questions that he couldn't answer no matter how much or how hard he thought about them. And thought about them he did every waking hour and every sleeping one. He hadn't had more than a handful of hours of sleep the last few nights; there was simply too much to consider.
How do you win a war against impossible odds?
That was the most important question on his mind and one he threw thoughts at all during the long ride to Cambridge where he was to officially take command of the Continental Army. As he was nearing the town his horse stumbled and nearly threw him. He didn't notice.
I suppose that's supposed to be an Army, he thought, looking at the collection of men in front of him - dirty, drunk, laughing, and at least a handful were in the midst of a fistfight. Or at least it will be. George jumped down from his horse, landing lightly on his feet. He gave the reins to his aide who took the horse away. Another man ran up to introduce himself. George politely brushed him off and entered his tent alone.
He intended to meet with his Officers first, keep the ones worth keeping and replace those who had no business there. But first he needed a moment to think.
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Post by Christopher Caswell on Jun 7, 2014 15:29:06 GMT
Kit had been to Cambridge once before. He remembered it as a small village with friendly (for being in Massachusetts) people and small, tightly together houses surrounded by a great expanse of farm land and woods. Overall the general landscape still looked the same. The woods were still there, old trees rising up in great masses. The small houses were still there, and still, somehow, looking inviting. But the sheer amount of people had certainly doubled. Everywhere he looked there were men and woman running in and out of houses, talking eagerly and urgently - some in whispers and some in shouts. And between their legs ran children, filled with the excitement and tension that ran through the entire group.
It was noisy and exciting. He stopped a young man wearing a blue uniform to ask for directions. The man jerked a thumb over his head. "Thank you," Kit replied as he headed in the direction.
Just beyond the last row of houses was a great field. It had been farmland, he supposed. But now it was filled with rows of tents and even more men than he had imagined. He grinned. This was the Continental Army.
It didn't take him long to find the General's tent. It was larger than the rest and located right in the center. He peeked his head in. "Excuse me, sir," he began, his voice unsure. "Are you General Washington?"
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Post by George Washington on Jun 9, 2014 0:49:18 GMT
Lost in thought, sitting at his desk with a hundred thousand papers strewn across it, all begging for attention and screaming out their supposed importance. Where to even begin? George thought for a few moments. He had just reached out a hand for the first letter when a young man barged into his tent. He stood up quickly - his years in the military have quickened his reaction times.
"What do you think you are doing? Barging into my tent like that! I insist that you, sir, leave at once and re-enter the correct way."
Perhaps it was an over-exaggeration. The young man certainly seemed polite enough. It was possible that he may have even been some important person sent from Congress. He had expressed his desire for an Aide for some time now. It was always a possibility that this impetuous, young man could be that Aide. But it would not do. If he was to command this army, there would need to be rules and discipline and there would certainly be no tent barging in going on. This Army cried out for order. And he intended to be the one to order it.
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Post by Christopher Caswell on Jun 10, 2014 4:12:05 GMT
Kit realized his mistake almost at once and certainly too late to do anything but take whatever was coming. He hung his head apologetically while the General was speaking - or more like shouting. As soon as he had finished, he exited the tent.
A man standing outside was laughing. He had been for some time judging by the red of his face and the way he clutched at his sides and gasped for breath. It took all he had to not march straight over and knock the man down on his laughing face. But that would not do. Not at all. Instead, he regained his composure. He cast the man a dirty glare. And turned back to the tent opening.
"My pardons for disturbing you, sir," he said in what he hoped was a polite and respectable tone. "May I trouble you for a brief moment?"
He waited for the affirmative and entered. The General had returned to his papers. "I am sorry, sir, for my behavior a moment earlier. This is my first time in ... an army and I'm afraid I may be a little overexcited. Particularly to meet such an illustrious officer such as you ... someone I've heard a great deal about." Afraid that he may be over-stepping his bounds, he quickly shut up.
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Post by George Washington on Jun 19, 2014 0:58:44 GMT
The young man was quick to obey. That much promised hope. But he expected to hear a great deal of arguing and talking back before too long. Some of those old men who had been given some sort of commission by those fools in Congress were fairly set in their ways. It would take a great deal of coaxing to open their stubborn minds. And, even then, he would likely need to replace them.
"Yes, you may," Washington spoke sternly when the young man asked for a moment of his time. Even then he didn't approve. He should have spoken to a lower-ranking officer. The officer should then arrange the meeting. Or perhaps that was much too formal. Washington sighed. There was so much precedent to set. He simply didn't know what was appropriate half the time.
He let the man finish speaking and when it was clear that he was not going to continue on, he said, "What is your name?"
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