Free The General's Christmas by C. Metzinger Page B

General Greene.
    "General, spread the word that the prisoners
are to be treated with respect, and that the homes of this town
will not be looted or destroyed in any manner."
    "Yes, sir!" he saluted
smartly and turned to give the order. No matter how badly his men
had suffered at the hands of the enemy, Washington would not allow
retribution against men who had fought bravely for their
officers.
    As soon as the Hessians were
gathered together and relieved of their weapons, sentries were
stationed to guard them. The American soldiers were invited into a
few of the homes by a few grateful residents who were glad to be
rid of the Hessians. They plied them with hot coffee, soup, and
shelter.
    It was another hour before all the enemy
weapons were confiscated. Colonel Knox was especially interested in
the stores of ammunition and gun powder. His men thoroughly
searched the area for everything they could find.
    One of the soldiers discovered several casks
of rum, and soon men from every regiment were drinking in
celebration.
    "Aye! This is the thing to warm us up!" one
cheered, and they mobbed the storage facility, drinking out of
their hats, their empty powder horns, and their hands.
    General Washington and General Greene
inspected the Hessian troops, surveyed the weapons and artillery,
and consulted with some of the Hessian officers. They informed the
general that Colonel Rall was dying in the English Church
nearby.
    Washington and Greene
hurried to the church and entered. Inside, it was cold and dark.
The white-painted walls and columns supported a two-story ceiling.
An altar displayed the crucifix and high upon a winding iron
staircase a pulpit cantilevered over the first row of pews. At the
rear of the church, Colonel Rall lay in one of the box pews,
attended by a doctor and two officers.
    The doctor looked up and said something in
German.
    "Does anyone here speak English?" asked
Washington.
    "I do," a weak voice
responded. It was Colonel Rall. His face was ashen white. His eyes
were open but unfocused, and his lips were colorless.
    General Greene stood aside
while General Washington stepped inside the wooden box pew and
knelt down beside the padded bench. Rall lay with a thick layer of
blood-soaked bandages lay upon his abdomen. Washington's glance
questioned the doctor, and the doctor's eyes conveyed his
hopelessness.
    Washington turned to Colonel Rall, speaking
softly.
    "I am General Washington, Commander in Chief
of the Continental Army."
    Rall raised his head with the help of his
aide.
    "I salute you, Commander.
You have led your men well."
    "Thank you, Colonel. Your men fought bravely
until the end."
    Rall closed his eyes in satisfaction, and
then opened them again. Slowly, he turned his head and focused on
Washington.
    "Please, allow my men to keep their
possessions and treat them well. They are good soldiers, good
officers, and have served me well."
    General Washington nodded.
    "I will do as you ask. You have my word on
it, Colonel."
    "Thank you," he whispered
coarsely and closed his eyes in relief. A moment later, his body
lay perfectly still, yielding no sign of life. The doctor listened
for a heartbeat. Then he carefully pulled the colonel's woolen
cloak over his face.
    Once outside the church, Washington turned to
Greene.
    "Call a meeting of the officers. We need to
discuss our next move."
    Greene nodded and left.
    As Washington rode his horse through Trenton,
he surveyed the remnants of war.
    Homes had been knocked in by
cannon balls. Windows gaped open to the cold and snow. Soldiers
shoveled snow upon the small fires burning around the houses as a
northeastern wind carried smoke through the town. Groups of Hessian
soldiers were marched toward the center of town where the all the
prisoners were gathered. The wounded were carried into a nearby
building and the dead were loaded upon wagons for
burial.
    This is the face of war, Washington thought;
the wounded, the dead, the ravaged lives, broken and burned. This
was the