Chapter 09 | The Desertion
October had come much sooner than anyone could have imagined, and with it a sense of restlessness among the prisoners. Wolfgang still felt some loyalty to the Hessian Brigade that he had been a part of since the beginning of the war, but his pride in himself as a soldier, fighting against the rebel colonists, was beginning to fade. It seemed like a long time since he had fired his musket, and had heard the cannon balls whistle overhead. It was almost as if that had been in another life. Now, he was a prisoner, but because he worked for Frederich Stuber almost everyday, he felt more like a confined farmer.
It was on October 1, 1882, that he began to think about it. No, not his life as a prisoner, not his family-what was left of it, and not Ellie. Rather, he was thinking about how he could possibly change his situation, and move on.
So the visit to the barracks by recruiters from Colonel Charles Armand’s Light Horse Division more than captured Wolfgang’s attention. Colonel Armand, a Frenchman who commanded a cavalry that fought for the colonists in the war, had been known in France as Tuffin, Marquis de la Rouerie, but as Colonel Armand was well known for his daring leadership in some of the key battles of the war.
Wolfgang knew that the American congress had given captive prisoners the opportunity to swear their allegiance, and, for 30 pounds (80 Spanish dollars), buy their freedom out of captivity. But there was no way he could put his hands on that kind of money. He also knew that someone else could buy a soldier’s freedom, but the only possibility for Wolfgang was Frederick Stuber, but, unfortunately, Frederick had just gone through some hard times with his crops, and owed more money than he had extra. So the chances of a paid freedom were slim to none.
But the new news from the recruiters was that he could desert the Hessian forces and sign up with the Light Horse Division as a rebel soldier with the promise of 30 Spanish dollars bounty money. As soon as he was engaged he received 8 dollars and would get the remainder when he arrived at his regiment.
Almost before the recruiters left the prisoner’s barracks and galloped around the hill, Wolfgang and his friends were talking about the offer. “There is no way I’ll desert the Hessians,” shouted Jakob, almost in defiance. “Those bastards in the Light Horse just want to get us by ourselves, shoot us, and dump us in the Rappahannock. There’s is no way I’m dumb enough to fall for that.” “I’m with you, Jake,” Ewalt jumped in (His real motive for not wanting to leave the Winchester area- a certain young lady who had swept him off his feet- would not be mentioned), “It looks suspicious to me. And besides that, we are Hessian soldiers. I’m proud of that, and I’ll be dammed if I’ll desert!”
Wolfgang and Conrad were a little more cautious about immediately disregarding the opportunity. “Our life as a Hessian soldier was over when we were captured at Yorktown,” Wolfgang said with conviction, “Even if it weren’t, what do we do-stay here in these crappy barracks all of our life, and then get buried on that hill over there?? “I don’t see how we’re contributing much to the Hessians right now.” “You’re right, Wolfie,” agreed Conrad, “I came over here to be a soldier, not a prisoner.”
Wolfgang, like his father, liked horses, and had learned at an early age to ride one with ease. He knew he would be a good cavalry man, and the thought of being in the American Light Horse Division, in an odd sort of way, excited him. He and Conrad talked long into the night about this new opportunity-about the risks, but also the adventure.
In a sense, he didn’t have anything to lose. Wolfgang had lost his daughter, and his wife, according to all evidence, may have abandoned him. He was realistic enough to know that the chances of ever finding Ellie, and her not having gotten on with her life with another man, were nil. He was a prisoner, with only a dead end in sight if he stayed in the Hessian prisoner barracks forever. If he joined the Light Horse, he would get extra money, a chance for adventure, and maybe even a new life. And he had heard that some of the American soldiers from Virginia stood to be given land in Ohio after the war- maybe he would be eligible too. Conrad, one of his close friends, was looking to break away from the barracks and find adventure too.
On October 12, 1882, the two of them took the leap. They actually met Colonel Armand, and learned that they, too, would be given land for their service. They bade their friends Ewalt and Jakob goodbye, and joined Colonel Armand’s Light Horse Division. It was a done deal.
What a thrill to be riding with Colonel Armand’s Division! By December 12, 1882, the Light Horse Division, 300 strong – with 40 newly recruited Hessians that included Wolfgang and Conrad- marched to the Hessian Barracks in Fredrick, Maryland. Johann Wolfgang Odoerfer, to celebrate his new beginning as a part of the American forces, decided- as had many of his fellow Hessians in Armand’s battalion- to Americanize his name. From now on, he would be John Odoerfer – a part of the new country of colonists.
As they approached the Frederick, Maryland Barracks, shouts of welcome came from the prisoners there who had left the Winchester Barracks in February. John was proud to be a part of the Light Horse, and waved happily to the crowd that had gathered to watch them pass.
They would camp there only two days, and then would move east toward Little Yorktown and Lancaster in Pennsylvania. John and Conrad, who had kept his name, talked and wondered about what adventure lie ahead of them. They had heard that the war was drastically winding down, but knew that there were still pockets of British troops that would give resistance until a treaty was signed. John even felt good carrying a musket again, and was ready for anything that might arise. He was a soldier, and was ready to fight.
As the Light Horse crossed into Pennsylvania, past the small village of Littlestown, it would not have been odd at all for John to have strange feelings that day, and to have felt sort of an eerie gravitational pull. Just as planets in the solar system sometimes come near to another planet through force of gravity, so had John came near to another person of note, without knowing a thing about it.
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As the crow flies, it was a bare sixteen miles from Littlestown to another small Franklin County village, where Christmas was being celebrated. It was, after all, December 25, 1782, and even though money was short, a young lady was busying herself cooking a special Christmas dinner for her aging, and very ill, father.
Since Ellie had returned home several months ago, she had spent almost all of her time taking care of her father, prettying up his house, and trying to do what she could to provide some money for their needs. She had tried to sell some garden vegetables, had arranged for help in farming some of the tillable land, and had even sold some of the items she had knitted. They had gotten by, but it was a difficult life.
Then, about a month ago, her father, John suddenly began to cough and spit up blood, and have small amounts of blood in his bowel movements. Ellie had contacted the local doctor, and he had examined John. But his diagnosis was not clear, and it seemed to Ellie that he did not really know what to do. His only suggestion was that John should be confined to his bed for a while, and should eat only soft food.
Ellie’s life in Waynesboro had been one of primarily work and worry. She did take John to church on Sunday, and for a potluck once and a while during the week. Now, since he had become ill, she couldn’t even do that.
The people of Waynesboro wondered about Ellie, especially the young unmarried men at church. She was, by anyone’s standards, a very beautiful young woman. Yet, when a man would show an interest in her, and perhaps ask for a date, Ellie always had an excuse. It was not that she was unfriendly. She would usually smile and be cordial to the young man. Yet she always maintained her distance, and to the men who pursued her seemed aloof. Since coming to Waynesboro, she had resisted all of their advances, and seemed to not be interested in dating. Even her father asked her about this, but received no satisfaction in her vague answer.
In truth, Ellie had been so taken by Wolfgang, and so devastated when he suddenly had to leave Newport, that- in her grief over his loss- she convinced herself that he was the only man for her. If she couldn’t have him, she would have no one. Ellie knew that she was being weird about this, but, in her mind, so be it. She often thought of Wolfgang and their precious moments together. In fact, even after almost three years had passed, she still thought about him much more than seemed healthy to her. But she resigned herself to her fate, and made her father the object of her concern and devotion.
Finally, it was ready. She had prepared a large pot roast, with mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, two kinds of vegetables, and some special cranberry salad that her father loved so much. And to top it off, there would be a special apple pie, with fresh whipped cream. She had even made some popcorn balls for later in the afternoon. It was spread out on the table, and was, by any standards, a wonderful feast. She did it for him. “Who knows,” she thought, “this may be his last Christmas.” He was 87 years old, and showed all the signs of being a sick man.
But today was to be a happy day, and she helped him to the table. He looked at all the food with a tear in his eye, recalling the wonderful meals her mother used to prepare. He had been very happy since Ellie had returned. Her help and support changed him from an old, weak recluse to a happy, contented old man. He knew she would be there to help him if he needed it- and her smiling face and positive attitude had made his house into a home. And now it was Christmas. As he sat down to eat, his prayers were for her long and happy life, and for his courage to finish out his years with dignity.
Sadly, he never got to eat the Christmas dinner. As he took the first bite of his cherished cranberry salad, he suddenly turned pale, and blood began to erupt from the side of his mouth. As Ellie rushed to his side, he collapsed in his chair, and fell to the floor. In a fit of coughing, his breathing suddenly stopped, and Ellie could do nothing but hold him, and watch her father die.
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John was at that moment only sixteen miles away from this sad and tragic event, but it might as well have been sixteen thousand miles. He was oblivious to what was happening to someone he loved, but who he considered only a wonderful memory from the past.
Instead, John was hungry for adventure, and was anticipating what being with Armand’s Light Horse battalion had in store for him. There was a great spirit among the soldiers in his Battalion, and even a good camaraderie between the recruited Hessians and the American regulars.
In a strong sense, life was good. John was free from the prisoner’s barracks, learning to live with his daughter’s death, resigned to the uncertainty of his wife’s relationship with another man, and more accepting of the futility of ever seeing Ellie again.
He could throw himself into his adventures with the Light Horse, and put some of his continual worry behind him.
They were reasonably well fed and supplied, and he had a few dollars in his pocket. Even Conrad had a smile on his face.
As the Light Horse Battalion headed toward Little Yorktown, or York, John felt a little strange talking with the other soldiers about possible upcoming fights with the British. But he was getting used to it, and beginning to feel more and more American.
John and Conrad had suspected, and heard, after the battle of Yorktown, that the war between the British and the Colonists was coming to an end. As the Light Horse brigade was making its way across Pennsylvania, new rumors were swirling. In early January, camped near York, Pennsylvania, the battalion heard that, on November 30th, the Preliminary Articles of Peace had been signed by the United States and the British.
The Light Horse soldiers were, surprisingly, disappointed. They were ready for battle and there was none. And with the war ending, there would probably be none. But they held out hope, since they all knew that the Continental Army would not be disbanded until all were sure that a treaty would not break down. The colonists, they knew, would not want to be left unprepared if the war started up again.
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John was excited to hear that the Light Horse Division would now be heading for Chadd’s Ford, on the Brandywine river. He had heard about the famous battle there in the fall of 1777, and how General Wilhelm Knyphausen had led 5000 Hessians to help defeat General Washington, and he wanted to see the battlefield. But he wondered why they were going there. Some of the Light Horse soldiers thought, since it had been a stronghold of patriots and British soldiers, that Colonel Armand might feel that some of them were still there, and might not be acknowledging that the war had ended. Others, including some of the officers, were sure that the last battle of the war had ended, and that the Light Horse was just biding its time until the final peace treaty was signed.
As they slowly moved toward Chadd’s Ford and the Brandywine river, they camped a few days in Lancaster. The Light Horse Brigade, which had become known, even since 1781, as the Armand’s 1st Partison Corps, had three divisions of marching soldiers and three divisions of cavalry. John, because he was very experienced with horses, was a part of the cavalry. As they journeyed eastward, he really enjoyed riding and taking care of his horse, and often thought that his father, Marcus, who had drove the carriage for the Crown Prince, would be very proud.
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Finally, they had arrived. as they headed north from Pyle’s Ford, along the Brandywine river toward the high ground east of Chadd’s Ford, they had to pass through a heavily wooded area. The calvary, which usually led the way, was wending its way through the trees when, to the great surprise of even the top officers, a violent barrage of shots rang out, coming from either side of the large trail. John’s horse, along with most of the others, was totally startled, and, as its front feet began to paw the air and its nostrils showed intense fear, there was complete chaos among all the horses.
John grabbed his musket from its scabbard, tried to reign in his horse, and fired in the direction of the shots. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see horses fall, blood spurting from their sides and necks, and their riders thrown to the ground- many of them trampled. It looked like many of Armand’s soldiers had been hit, as the Colonel tried to organize his troops, and repel the attack.
John could see Conrad, running for cover with his musket, leaving his horse to die. As the ground troops caught up, they joined the battle, which raged for a good ten minutes until the superior force of the 1st Partison soldiers began to force the attacking British and patriot forces back to the river. It was now becoming almost a massacre as Armand’s forces fired point blank on many of the enemy in retreat. Many of them jumped into the river, and either drowned or were shot as they fell through the weak ice, trying to get across to the safety of the other side. Many of the ground soldiers fired, attached their bayonets, and engaged in hand-to-hand combat with British soldiers. In the aftershock of the surprise, they were brutally stabbing many of the enemy in the back as they tried to retreat, oblivious to humane protocol.
John had left his horse, attached his bayonet, and was in the midst of the carnage. Had it not been for the sheer numbers of continental soldiers, and a strong sense of helping each other, it is likely that John, Conrad, and others who had happened to be the main targets of the initial attack would have been killed.
It was over, seemingly, almost as soon as it started- this last battle of the Revolutionary War. Almost all of the attacking enemy, unaware that the war was over, were killed. Armand’s troops sustained casualties, but surprisingly few. They camped on the high hill east of Chadd’s Ford, nursing their wounds, burying their dead, and quieting their horses. They would fight no more.
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“My God,” Conrad gasped, “I thought the war was over.” “Maybe it is now,” John responded, “I think we pretty much wiped them out.” As John and Conrad lay on his bedrolls, exhausted from the battle, John thought about how strange it had been- fighting the British. Frederick Stuber had talked to him a lot about the war, and he was beginning to understand how oppressive the British had been to the colonists, and why they felt they had to fight for their independence. And his respect for the rebel’s courage and persistence had grown since Yorktown. With this battle, he felt more and more like an American, and as he closed his eyes for a fitful night’s sleep, you could see a faint look of pride on his face. John had arrived.
January beckoned February, and February invited March, and the 1st Partison Division traveled throughout Pennsylvania, presumably looking for pockets of the enemy, and waiting until a treaty was solid. They had heard that on January 20, 1783, England and France had also signed Preliminary Articles of Peace, and that on February 4th England had proclaimed a cessation of hostilities in the United States.
But on March 26, more great news came. Colonel Armand was very popular among the soldiers. He led the battalion in a relaxed but firm and fair way, and the men appreciated it. When they found out that he had been made Brigadier General by the Continental Congress, they cheered wildly, and celebrated well into the night.
The war was all over but the shouting, but still the 1st Partisan Brigade was on maneuvers all around southern and eastern Pennsylvania. The troops, with nothing significant to do, were getting bored and restless. It appeared that the officers, and yes, ever Brigadier General Armand were wanting it to end also, but it drug on through the summer.
But on September 3, 1783, the Treaty of Paris was signed, to be approved by the Congress of the Confederation. It was now, seemingly, all over but the shouting. But in the colonies, news traveled slowly, and the fat lady didn’t sing until December.
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