As the adrenaline of war pulsates through my veins, I rush into the fray of straggling men and the wounded.
Gist suddenly started screaming commands. I turn and see that he was calling a retreat. No, no they shouldn't give in this quickly. I watched our soldiers flee. I was a colonel. I felt as if I should stop them.

Although, that was before that man I had spoken to in the bank shoved me with all his might out of the way of a bullet headed to a fatal shot in the ribs.
          Instead, the bullet sank itself into the man's left arm. By the sound, I knew he had shattered it. There was no hope for that limb.
           He screamed in excruciating pain and clutched his arm fiercely.

We both run for cover. This was an ambush. And that bullet. That bullet would have taken me out. We have to run.
           We abandon Combahee River. We've fled the scene. And when Gist stops us, we count in that battle as nineteen wounded. Two dead.
            I help the wounded to the camps where they'll be stitched up. I rest outside one of the tents, exhausted.
            A movement catches my eye, and I see Gist waving me over. I stand and jog briskly to him.
            "Laurens. You all right?" he asks sternly. I tell him yes, and he continues. We discuss our next move. I recommend that we remain here until each man is attended for, before fleeing north.
              Gist nods in assent and barks some orders to a pair of soldiers stationed outside to spread the word.

                           •    •    •
                Eventually, we discover the British left to their ships. We longer fight them. And they know this. In this battle, the British had won, but in this war, America's freedom has been discovered.
                 I try to imagine what will happen next. I try to think of how I've freed all of these black men. They'll head home to their families and describe the magnificence of their freedom.
                  But all I can think about, is how Alexander Hamilton. Alex. Was in that battle in Yorktown. Soon to be known the Siege of Yorktown. Fear creeps and crawls, and I feel the buzz of a thousand hornets stinging my mind and heart.

I pray for another one of your letters.