The British are Coming!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: The Imaginarium
A short story of 500 words

Submitted: April 04, 2019

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Submitted: April 04, 2019

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Martin Dobbs continued to scratch himself irritated by his eighteenth-century woollen undergarments.

He thrusted his hand down the inside of his pantaloons, not even caring when he heard sniggering from some teenage girls in the crowd. But the irritation was soon forgotten when the drummer boy from the Redcoats began to beat out their advance.

Martin, who today was on the side of the Rebels, went down on one knee and taking the powder from his horn, loaded up his replica musket.

He loved this, playing grown-up soldiers. Martin belonged to the American History Re-enactment Society and this afternoon was the year 1777 the place, Valley Forge.

Martin rammed the powder down the barrel of his rifle with some dramatic effect, then standing took aim and fired. The lock came down to strike the flint producing a splendid muzzle flash. Right on cue, a random Redcoat fell to the ground as Martin re-took his crouched position to reload.

By now the Redcoats were bringing up their cannons and not to be outdone by the drama, so did the Rebels.

Soon the field would be covered in theatrical smoke and the cry of hand to hand combat which the crowd always loved.

Martin stood once more to take aim, however he wasn’t watching where he was standing and took the full-force of the percussion as the cannon boomed, knocking Martin to the ground.

He had no idea how long he was unconscious for. The next thing he remembered was being picked-up by an anxious fellow Rebel.

The Rebel was trying to make himself heard over the cannon fire then seeing Martin was having trouble understanding him, pointed towards the advancing Redcoats.

Martin wasn’t up for anymore re-enactment today and wished to be taken away by the medic.

Then what happened next made Martin freeze on the spot. A shot ran out from the Redcoat line taking off part of the Rebel’s head!

Martin stared, opened mouthed. Had he really just seen a man get shot in the head or was this some new special effects?

Then there was another shot. This time he saw the iron musket ball rip through his shirt and bury itself into his arm!

What was happening?

He tried to cry out for the advancing red line to stop. But the blood loss from his wound was too much and Martin soon collapsed.  

When he gained consciousness instead of being on the field, he was inside a large tent lying on a makeshift bed surrounded by wounded Rebels.

Martin managed to sit up to see a man dressed like a cavalryman walk from bed to bed. Martin thought he looked familiar.

The man had round features and eyes that had seen too much death. With a weak smile, he shook Martin by the hand.

Martin observed the powder burns on the man’s hands from firing too many muskets.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but knew with certainty he was now in the presence of the real George Washington.


© Copyright 2019 Markie Bee. All rights reserved.

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