Chapter 02 | The Trip – Over Land
Wolfgang, having never marched away from his family before, was deeply troubled as he left Ansbach, with his family weeping in his wake. He knew it was possible that he would never see them again, and a tear started running down his cheek. “A good German soldier never cries,” he thought as he stifled his tear and wept silently inside, “at least not so anyone can see him.”
But it was soon “out of sight, out of mind,” as they left Ansbach, and Wolfgang was energized by seeing Karl and several others from Ansbach in the ranks all around him. And he was amazed when he found that the Ansbach and Bayrueth recruits totaled over 400. He felt a part of something big, and it wasn’t long before he began to march with the swagger of the soldier he knew he could be.
As the marchers silently trudged along, Wolfgang’s thoughts suddenly went to the future. Would they have to march all the way to the sea? What would it be like sailing on the ocean? Would they be fighting as soon as they got to America? And he couldn’t help but ask himself “Will I have the courage to fight and kill?” He mentally answered all his questions, mostly in a positive way. He was, slowly but surely, replacing the trauma of decision making and departure with the exhilaration that comes from anticipated adventure and a common cause.
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After two days of pretty steady marching and a lot of blisters, the two battalions arrived at the town of Ochsenfurth and boarded boats on the Main River. The recruits were shocked as they saw how little boat space there was for the over 400 soldiers. Wolfgang and Karl, finally found themselves together on one of the boats. “Damn, these are close quarters!” exclaimed Karl. “And the smell is horrible! It’s so crowded that we’ll have to stand all night! I can’t see why they don’t have more boats, so we could spread out a little.”
Like feeding kindling to a fire, shouted complaints piled upon shouted complaints fueled even more dissatisfaction. The fact that the recruits were bone tired from marching didn’t help any, and the dissent became powerful– and a little scary. Wolfgang, feeling strongly about the wrongness of the situation, let his famous temper take over, and was the first to shout, “ I’m getting off this boat, and I’ll be damned if I will get back on it as long as it’s so crowded!” Others followed suit, and soon the boats were evacuated, and the soldiers filled the banks of the Main– many ready to take matters into their own hands. Georg, an Ansbacher friend, was especially vocal, and stirred up the crowd even more. And noise substituted for a plan.
The officers were beside themselves trying to quell a full-scale defection, and tried to beg, coerce, or force the soldiers to get back on the boats– but to of no avail. It seemed that the crowd of very angry recruits, unwilling to yield to threats or believe in promises, would simple explode, forcibly resist their officers, and disperse into the streets. But just as “all Hell was about to break loose,”officers and assistants appeared with food and wine brought from the city, and, as the recruits saw it, you could hear a mighty roar of anger suddenly reduce a little, diverted by thirst and hunger.
The wine, which many of the recruits consumed in great quantities, seemed to be having the initial effect of making things worse, and it looked for awhile that the situation would still recklessly spiral out of hand. In an attempt to help control the situation, the Jaegers, a special Hessian force, were ordered to fire on any deserting soldier, and some of the soldiers, trying to fade into the streets of Ochsenfurth to escape, even fired back.
Karl and a core group were still not ready to give up, and continued protesting. “Let’s do what whatever it takes to get out of here,” shouted Karl. “I never thought it would be like this, and I don’t have to take it.” Bruno, an Ansbach recruit known for his good judgement and command in difficult situations, urged restraint. “Let’s stick it out,” he said with some conviction, “ This is just a bad situation, but it’ll get an awful lot worse if we don’t watch out.” “I’m with Bruno, said Wilhelm, his friend from Ansbach,” We need to see that they are trying to fix things, and if we hold our temper, it’ll blow over.” And blow over it finally did, with much talk, promises of larger ships from officers, and a visit from the Margrave and his staff (who had traveled speedily from Ansbach to deal with the near mutiny.)
Back on the boats, the soldiers were given extra food and drink, in hope that their “too full” stomachs could somehow make amends for the “too full” boats, and things quieted down. Wolfgang, spent from the day, went to sleep quickly, and dreamed of fighting the colonists– with the battle taking place on more boats than he could count.
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The difficulty of the two day march, and the near mutiny because of the size of the boats, had left the recruits tired, unsettled and disturbed. But on November 6, 1777, they arrived on the Main river at the city of Frankfort– not far from Hanau and Bensdorf– and the recruits breathed a sigh of relief as they were now on 6 larger ships (2 more than they had started with) for the rest of their journey. Wolfgang felt that their near mutiny had paid off.
Just as the recruits were beginning to think things were turning for the better, three events in the yo-yo world of first feeling good, then bad, then good, and then bad, etc. came up that would have a devastating effect on their life in the next few months.
Wolfgang had been listening to a group of officers giving an explanation to some of the troops, and came running excitedly up to his small group of friends. “I’ve got bad news, bad news, and bad news! Which do you want to hear first,” he yelled excitedly.”Put a plug in the theatrics and just tell us,” said Karl, with a look that sobered Wolfgang up a little. “What’s going on?”
“Well first,” said Wolfgang, “we can’t leave Frankfort because of bad conditions–fog, low water levels, and problems with spoiled food. It may be a couple of days.””That’s a pain in the butt, Wilhelm groused, “will we ever get this show on the road?” “It’s even worse than that,” Wolfgang continued, “there are rumors that our boats are, for some strange reason, going to be heading up the Sayn river to Bensdorf. where they would be at anchor for quite a while.”“Anchored for a quite a while!” shouted Wilhelm, “We could be sitting there in these damn boats for weeks, with no one telling us what is going on.” Wolfgang did a double take, because Wilhelm, who came from a very devout family, was usually pretty even-tempered, and didn’t swear very often.
“And that’s not the worst,” injected Wolfgang, hammering the third nail in the coffin, ” they’re saying we have been delayed because the King of Prussia wouldn’t let us pass through his territory- something about the damage that the first group of Ansbach-Bayrueth soldiers had done a year earlier. They say we will probably stay in Bensdorf until plans could be made for a long march to the sea!”“ Stay here! In these stinkin boats, while the weather gets colder and colder?!” asked Karl, incredulously. And then march a long time?! “What is going on? Let’s just jump off these boats, and head back, anyway we can, to Ansbach. We don’t have to put up with this.”
Georg pounded his fist on the side of the boat and said, in a loud voice, “ I don’t think I can take this nonsense much longer! Let’s figure out a way to get out of here.” Wolfgang was sympathetic. Bruno said nothing, and thought a lot.
Georg was one of those “little but mighty” men who had a large bark. But he had a bite and courage, too. And he was not easily pushed around. His dark, piercing eyes could scare the meek of heart into submission, and Georg could easily explode if things weren’t going his way.
As the news began to soak in, it was an understatement to say that amid the recruits there was a sinking feeling, “What have we gotten ourselves into? ” And to top it off, the officers let them know that the Jaeger soldiers had been instructed to be even more aggressive in firing upon deserters.
Wolfgang could see that Georg was really determined, and so was he. But he was more concerned about what Georg would do next than he was about himself.
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It was almost Christmas, and they had been barely existing for over a month on the boats in Bensdorf harber. Many were hoping against hope that the Margrave would give up sending the troups to America, and that they would return to Ansbach and Bayrueth. Others, more brave, or perhaps, more reckless, were plotting how to get away from this intolerable situation.
Wolfgang had just fallen into a fitful sleep, if that was what you could call it, when he saw, out of the corner of a partially open eye, that Georg had gotten up, was fully dressed, carrying a bag of his stuff, and was quietly throwing a rope over the side of the boat.
He had secured it to a support post, and before Wolfgang could speak, he had climbed over the side. “ My God,” thought Wolfgang, “He’s going to desert!” Wolfgang, already with one of his frequent hangovers, and by now feeling really bad, watched Georg as he reached the water and began to swim to shore.
Something in Wolfgang’s heart was cheering him on, while fear for his safety gripped his thoughts. If he can do it, maybe some of us can later do it too, thought Wolfgang, as, even with his splitting headache, watched intently.
Georg had just reached the shore, which wasn’t all that far away, when several shots rang out, piercing the night. Wolfgang saw Georg slump to the ground, at the same time that several men he could immediately identify as the Jaeger riflemen, ran toward him.“The bastards have lined up guards out there to shoot deserters,” shouted Karl, who had appeared by his side. “There is no way anyone can escape!” Reality had begun to set in.
Wolfgang thought about death that night, and grieved the loss of Georg, his fellow Ansbacher. He knew that this was not his last glimpse of death by gunfire, and suddenly it took on a new reality. Life was fragile, and you had to guard it closely. But how could you do it among such ruthless disregard? He fell asleep pondering the question.
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After two days of mourning Georg’s death and finally realizing the gravity of their situation, their day of just hanging out and talking was loudly interrupted by an obnoxious officer who stood on the fore deck and shouted for their attention. “Well, you motley land lubbers, you’re getting better luck than you deserve. Tomorrow we embark for Hanau, and you patsies will be housed in winter quarters there.” Even in the sea of despondency, hearty cheers arose when the good news was received. The soldiers were cold, sometimes hungry, and in despair about the progress of their trip. And they weren’t even close to the ocean yet. But leaving the boats and moving to warm quarters gave them renewed hope, their original swagger begin to return, and they were again His Majesty’s soldiers, getting ever closer to helping the British soundly defeat those inept colonists.
With more warmth and comfort, and with very little else for the recruits to do, the group initially passed it’s time gambling, which was right up Wolfgang’s alley. He had won some money, but He had also alienated some of the recruits by his risky bets, and loud and angry reactions when he lost. And that was wearing thin. When Karl heard Wolfgang say to another recruit, “Wud you like to bet on that?” “Just becuzz I’ve had a few drinks doeshn’t mean I don’t know anything,” he knew trouble was just around the corner. It ended with Karl having to step between them, grab Wolfgang, and speak some sense into their heads — “Okay, you guys, knock it off. No bet is worth a broken nose. Let’s go out for some air.” Karl hoped against hope that Wolfgang would continue to get better, and find ways to avoid this kind of trouble. Eventually, the gambling grew old, and they spent more time talking about home, and about what awaited them in America, but ignorance was bliss.
Wolfgang knew Karl pretty well, and had had time to talk more to his friend Wilhelm. Wilhelm was a thin man, almost as tall as Wolfgang. His face was thin too, and he had an endearing smile that seemed to exude his faith. His brown hair, surprisingly, already had wisps of gray in it. Wilhelm was known to be of a serious bent, but could also be very funny when you got him going. Wolfgang liked him because he seemed to be genuinely concerned about people. And he even got Bruno to talk, and was impressed by the maturity of his views. Bruno was over 6 feet tall, with big shoulders and strong arms. His hair was cut pretty close, and altogether it made him appear pretty menacing. And given his quietness and strength, someone might have described him as “talking softly and carrying a big stick.”When Bruno said “We just have to relax, and take it one day at a time,” Wolfgang had a little thought scamper across his brain that said, “That may be good advice to use every day until we get back home.”
Wolfgang also made a new friend, Ewalt, who he had seen occassionly as a teenager when Ewalt had figured out a way to sneak out to the Black Forest Pub. Ewalt hung out with Wolfgang, Karl, Bruno, and Wilhelm, and brought a strong voice to the group. Ewalt was of medium height, and appeared strong and stocky. His tossled brown hair was longer than most, and it accentuated the frown that came from corners of his lips that naturally turned a little downward. It seemed to be built into Ewalt’s face, and gave others the impression that Ewalt was continually unhappy with his world. This, coupled with the fact that Ewalt didn’t smile a lot, gave him an aura of a dissatisfied grumbler.
But Wolfgang had talked to Ewalt a lot, and liked his way of strongly expressing his beliefs. He also suspected that Ewalt’s bark was bigger than his bite. He welcomed Ewalt to the group, and since he was new, spent a little extra time with him.
One day when Wolfgang and Ewalt were working on cleaning up their winter quarters, they began talking about growing up in Ansbach, and Ewalt, out of the blue, said “I couldn’t believe what happened to your wife when she was a teenager.” Wolfgang looked blankly at Ewalt, and said, totally mystified, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Oh my God,” said Ewalt, “I thought you knew. Or I would never have said anything. I promised Maria Margareta I would never tell anyone. It would be our secret.” Wolfgang asked Ewalt again and again what had happened- almost tried to force it out of him–but Ewalt, priding himself on being a man of his word, simply would not divulge what he knew. Wolfgang was intensely curious, worried, angry, and a host of other unsettled feelings, but he ended up understanding that Ewalt felt strongly that his word to Maria Margareta had to be good.
As Christmas came and went, Wolfgang pondered again and again what Ewalt had said. Was she involved with another boyfriend? Was it something else? Why hadn’t she told him? At least a husband ought to know. When he received a short letter from Maria Margareta, acknowledging a letter he had written her earlier, he was sure that the “secret” had affected how he interpreted what he read. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something in his wife Maria Margareta’s letter was disturbing to him. Maybe it was because she was afraid, or maybe it was because of their argument, but the tone of the letter, to Wolfgang, seemed to lack enthusiasm. He wondered if she had been glad to hear from him. He really couldn’t tell from the letter.
But his children were well, and even though Maria Margareta had said that she felt tired all the time, other things seemed to be going OK.
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Today started out with a major sense of excitement among the recruits. December had ushered in first January, and now February. There was a sense that something big was about to happen!
They had been mustered out early on the morning of February 15, prepared to march. “I hear we’re going to march all the way to Bremerele,” Karl said in amazement, “That’s at least a 50 day march, and I hear the roads are really bad! No way they would do that,” said Wilhelm with conviction, “ There has to be a shorter way to get to the sea.” Wolfgang didn’t care. He would have marched anywhere, just to get out of Hanau and get going.
But Wilhelm was right. It was only a 16-day march to the Dutch Port of Bois de Duc, but the British had been unable to arrange permission for the troops to march through the country involved. So the long march to Bremerle began.
It wasn’t until April 5 that the recruits, tired, footsore, and out of sorts after the long march, mustered in Bremerle, and began to prepare to embark on the ships to sail for America. Wolfgang and the others felt that, after the ordeal of the past four months, they should be in America by now, but they hadn’t even set sail yet. And they were shocked to hear that they would probably be another three months at sea before reaching their destination. “This is ridiculous,” whined Karl as they sat in the makeshift Bremerle barracks and rubbed their blistered feet, “I thought it would never end, and even now I can’t believe we’re here.”
Wolfgang was concerned about Karl. His positive attitude was gone, and in its place was a look of what some would call defeated resignation. And he didn’t look all that well, either. Wolfgang passed it off as a part of the frustration that had accompanied the grueling march, and, being in a good mood for a change, tried to lighten things up. “You’ll love the ship, Karl,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “ I’ve heard you have to chew tobacco so you won’t get scurvy in your mouth and your teeth rot away. That’s right up your alley!’
Karl could be seen to grin just a little as he remembered the first time he and Wolfgang had tried chewing tobacco. As he recalled, they were 12 years old and had both gotten sick as dogs. He also remembered that Wolfgang’s mother never did figure out what caused their sudden bout of nausea and vomiting. But Karl quickly reverted back to his solemn state, and Wolfgang went over to talk with Wilhelm and Ewalt.
It was then that they saw a group of people approaching the barracks, along with a cartload of supplies. To their surprise, it was officials of the Margrave’s government, who allowed the troops to buy cognac, extra bread, and some dried fruit. And yes, even some small packages of smoking tobacco. You can imagine the troops surprise when they found out that the items they supposedly bought was a gift from the Margrave! Wolfgang thought that perhaps he had a vein of compassion in him after all. Or perhaps he felt a small twinge of guilt about what the troops had gone through to get here, and what he knew they would face in America.
Nevertheless, with their spirits buoyed, the few days in Bremerle passed quickly, and with a cannon shot signal, the troops finally set sail on April 22, 1778. They sailed out of Slade on a ship named Friendship, along with many other ships, including troop ships, provision ships, fire protection ships, some frigates with 36 cannons, and the 40 gun warship-Somerset-all bound for America. The ship captains had received sealed orders about their destination, which could not be opened until after they had set sail.
Both the Margrave of Ansbach-Bayrueth, and The King of England must have been happy, since the King got his troops, and the Margrave, delivering them “safely” to port, got his money.
It was too bad that the Hessian soldiers did not treasure their few days in Bremerle and Slade more, to better prepare them for the harsh doses of hardship and sadness that the voyage at sea would mete out to them.