The Sun Rises over Fort Frederick

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: The morning dawns and the smoke from campfires hangs low.  A company of the 77th Reg't of Foot, Grenadiers, marches past.  We call a halloo to our Highland friends, especially Cpl. MacWilliam and Cpl. Campbell, the twa large corporals.  They give us a quick smirk, but don't miss a step in fear that Sgt. Watson would notice.  We walk past the shop of John Getz, riflemaker, who invites us over for  some bacon and fried mush.  The red ensign flies over the fort and the sun  rises higher in the sky.  A volley of musket fire and a large "huzzah" and a cheer for King George let us know that the regiments are drilling.  We watch as they go through the drill....."recover your firelock, prepare to prime and load, prime and load, 'bout, up, make ready, present, fire". They repeat the process again. The lads are quick, three to four times a minute they load and fire, then advance, fix and charge bayonets.  Fearsome they can be in proper warfare.  But in the woods we know the crack of our rifles are deadly.  Patched ball, rammed to the breech, at 100 yards we can hit the mark.  A young lass passes us, eyeing our clouts and leggins'.  We glance at her, then at each other, for we know she is curious, as curious as she is when she also eyes the kilted Highlanders.  But, with the reserve of proper men, we move on with nary a glance back at her.  


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