| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| SgtMunro |
Posted - January 19 2004 : 11:44:52 AM
“Two Secrets” by Sgt. Munro
Fort Pitt, The Ohio Country - October 30th 1763 / 1900 Hours
Sergeant Duncan Munro, 42nd Royal Highland Regiment, was seated at a corner table inside of the Sergeant’s Mess at Fort Pitt. A half consumed pint of porter beer, next to his bonnet, are his only companions this evening. The mess is not empty, for a good number of the sergeants from the 42nd, 60th and 77th regiments, were also there enjoying the camaraderie found amongst the ‘Soldiers of the King’. For Duncan, his mind is wandering far from the conversations and laughter.
Smoking his micmac pipe, a gift from his adopted brother Welethetowaco, Duncan finds himself thinking back to the engagement in August, near Bushy Run Station. Duncan knew that both his adopted brother, and his nephew Ouisaw Kitehi, were also there. He did not see them personally, but knowing his brother was as obligated to be there, as was he. Such are the responsibilities of a war captain of the Shawnee Nation, and devotion to duty was one of many common threads shared between the highland sergeant and the war captain of the Kikposka Septh. After the engagement, Duncan said a prayer for the safe delivery of his brother and nephew, there were many reasons to pray at the end of that battle.
There has been talk of an offensive thrust into the Ohio Country, the very heart of the Shawnee Nation, scheduled for sometime in the next year. This is the reason for Duncan’s quiet nature of late. He kept thinking to himself, “How can I warn Welethetowaco and Ouisaw Kitehi?” “And if I manage to send them warning, how could I convince them to seek safety?” “My brother would never leave his family…my family, to suffer the wrath soon to be visited upon them.” “This cursed war could have been avoided, it should have been avoided!”
Duncan’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Sergeant Malcolm Mac William, Grenadier Company of the 77th Highland Regiment. Sergeant Mac William shook off the autumn cold and retrieved a pint of Madeira from the bar, removing his bearskin mitre cap, he walked toward Sergeant Munro’s table.
“Duncan, are you drinking alone this evening?” Malcolm asked.
“No Malcolm, please take your ease.”
“Duncan, I need to speak to you about something that has been concerning me.”
“Please, continue Malcolm.”
“Duncan, how long have we known each other? What has it been, almost twenty years?”
“Yes it has Malcolm, since before Fontenoy, when the Black Watch was known as ‘The Old 43rd’.”
“Yes my friend, these youngsters look at us like relics.” Malcolm chuckled.
“Perhaps we are, having survived this long.” Duncan replied thoughtfully.
“And in all those years, I have always known you to be a steady and competent soldier…”, Malcolm then hesitated before continuing.
“Duncan, I have reason to believe that you harbor papist thoughts, and practice the papist faith…”
Sergeant Munro remained silent, waiting to hear exactly what his old friend had to say.
“After the August engagement, remember how exhausted we were? And we still had work to do, caring for the wounded and burying the dead, not to mention a further twenty-five miles to march and a siege to break.” Malcolm continued, “During the evening, I noticed you praying for the recovery of your Captain Graham, and I witnessed you crossing yourself, in the Catholic manner.”
“I suppose you will report this to your Captain Croy, who will be required to notify Major Campbell of my regiment?” Duncan queried, fearing the answer.
“No Duncan, I will not do that!” Malcolm stated, “There are some things that mean more to me, Duncan. The service to the King, which I believe would suffer if you were drummed-out of the 42nd.”
Duncan breathed a sigh of relief, and raised his tankard in a salute to his old friend.
Malcolm warned, “I will, however, advise you to be more careful in the future, since the next time you might be seen by o |
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