The Night Before Queenston

“Hail! Hail! To King George”

The fire crackled as three men sat about it.

Jacob, dark-haired and with two days' growth of whiskers, began laughing.

Across the fire, Leo squinted through the smoky haze. At seventeen, he knew nothing about war other than shooting a musket and being told to aim it at anyone wearing red. He swallowed hard. Was John, the old man, being funny or not?

“You are joking, right?” Leo asked.

John threw the remainder of his cup into the flame and brushed his finger through gray hair at his temples. He looked Leo in the eyes and gave him a half-grin.

Jacob’s face became stern. “This plan by Colonel Van Rensselaer does not seem very practical.” He shook his head, “Taking the battle to those lobsterbacks across the river, on their own turf, suicidal.”

John stared at the flame. He would never disobey orders. To him, it was like grandstanding and underestimating the enemy.

“That is what I am thinking too,” John replied, “I was practicing my surrender.”

John turned to Leo, who was lying back on his elbows. “What do you think, Leo?”

Leo gazed up at the dark sky.

“Seems feasible. Do you actually surrender or just get dead?”

Jacob’s face turned red, and his veins bulged in his neck.

John stood straight-faced, unwilling to make light of the young man’s question. “If you do not run home wetting your trousers, stand and fight, until there is no option but to surrender or die. Surrender, boy.” He turned away as his middle son’s distraught face flashed in his eyes.

The men fell quiet. Jacob swiped the air in front of his face. Murmurs and laughter from the surrounding regiments filtered in. The sky was clear. Leo lay back and traced the constellation of Pegasus in the air with his finger.

“Do you ever wonder how we know about the stars? My father said the Creeks worshipped them?” Leo asked

“We do not care about stars,” Jacob spat while his hands slapped together to kill a lightning bug.

“Speak for yourself, Jacob. There have been many times I have used the stars to travel at night. You really want to know the northern star and Orion’s belt.”

Jacob grunted, “I meant who worshiped what. It does not matter.”

John glared at Jacob, “Captain, sit up straight. I can tell you do not have children. If the boy wants to know more about the world, then we should not judge so harshly.”

“Yes, sir, Lieutenant,” Jacob turned so his back was toward the heat.

The coolness of the night surpassed the warmth. Owl hoots and rustling trees in the distance overtook the noises of soldiers.

John sat down and lay back on his ration bag. “Just a few hours until I know if I have not lost my edge.”

A whimper, then a sniffle.

“Boy, are you crying?”

Leo rubbed his nose with his sleeve. “No.”

“I don’t believe you.” Jacob leaned over and pressed a hand against Leo’s shoulder.

“I’m scared. Okay, I said it out loud.” Leo's face flushed as he said it.

John sat up and gave both a quick glance. “It would be foolish not to be scared.”

“Oh, so the old man, who survived the Revolution, is scared.” Jacob waved his hand across his face, then tilted his slouch hat.

“Of course, it keeps me focused, and I know I am still alive.”

The flame began to flicker, and the smoke thinned. Jacob lay down on his side, his head propped on his hand.

“Will you tell me about one of your battles?” Leo leaned forward.

“Not tonight, it is best we think about what’s ahead.”

“You're not going to share some of your wisdom. Come on, old man, give us something?” Jacob tapped his booted toes.

John placed his hands between his knees as Leo sat up straight and crossed his legs.

“Very well, but just what you need to know about the British… They come well-equipped with plenty of musket balls and cotton plugs. They march shoulder to shoulder. The first line aims and shoots. Each redcoat drops to one knee. The next row takes charge, shooting their volley. The Continental Army tried the same formation, only to be routed in the middle of the battle.” John peered at both men. “Bluecoats began to hide behind trees, shoot, and then run….”

“What do you think Van Rensselaer will do tomorrow?”

“It is over the river tomorrow on boats, Jacob. I’ve never dealt with the enemy over water.”

Leo scooted forward and put his hands over the dying flame. “Do you know what they will do using boats?”

“As I said, I do not know.”

Jacob rolled on his back, “Row like hell and pray.”

Silence fell between them once more. John tucked his coat tighter around him and put his cocked hat on his lap. He stared at it, then turned it so the points were across his legs. Making his knees shift, the hat bobbing as if it were on water. No sails, just oars. “The Niagara River is how wide?” His eyes closed, only seeing a blurred, distant, unfamiliar shore speckled with red.

Leo folded back, uncrossing his legs, and he lay his head down. Blonde hair mingled with blades of grass. The moonlight fell across his face. He rolled on his side and watched John. “Best stay with him.”

Snoring roared out of Jacob’s mouth. Leo took a deep breath, then closed his eyes.

The only sound was men breathing, some steady, others broken, in the dark. The starlight weakened, and the moon shifted east on the horizon. Doves began to coo, and the bluebird awoke with song. Sounds of boots against the earth rose.

John opened one eye. The sun shifted the dark to a grayish haze. The vibration from the ground made John rise through stiff joints. Jacob grunted, and Leo pulled his knees up.

The horse came into full view. The rider hollered, ‘Get up, men. Time for war!’”