The General's Christmas by C. Metzinger Page A

officers that they should walk
the horses down the hill. There's nothing but ice under this
snow."
    "Yes, sir!" Baylor nodded
and hurried back.
    Colonel Knox heard the
warning from Corporal Baylor and got off his horse. But getting his
horse down that gully was the least of his problems. He had
eighteen heavy artillery to manage. He knew from his experience of
taking artillery in winter from Fort Ticonderoga, New York, over
the mountains to Boston, that moving heavy guns down steep hills
was a perilous task.
    "Get the ropes, and bring
the six-pounders first!" he ordered.
    After ropes were tied to the
carriage of the first gun, they were wound around a good-sized oak
tree and held by six men. The carriage was slowly lowered down the
hill by the ropes. The men dug their feet into the snow as they
struggled to keep the cannon from sliding out of control. Inch by
inch, the heavy guns were lowered down to the bottom of the gulley.
Then ropes were taken to the top of the other side, and horses
pulled them out of the ravine.
    It took another hour to get all the horses
and artillery across Jacob's Creek, pushing them further behind
schedule.
    The snowstorm continued to
rage with no sign of abating. They soon reached the crest of a
hill, and the road next sloped downward into Birmingham. The hill
was too steep for the horses to pull heavy artillery.
    Colonel Knox shouted, "We'll
have to use the drag ropes, men! Tie them on the heavy guns and
form two lines on each side, six men to a line!"
    The troops stopped marching
to wait as men tied long ropes to the artillery and formed two
lines. Horses couldn't do the job safely. It took another hour to
get the large guns down the long hill toward Birmingham.
    When the last gun was brought down the hill,
Colonel Knox breathed a sigh of relief and notified Washington that
the artillery was moved successfully.
    "Thank you, Colonel. Please
join me and the other officers when we reach
Birmingham."
    "Yes, sir!" Knox replied and
rode back to his regiment.
    If any of the men hoped to
find shelter, food, or warmth in Birmingham, they were
disappointed. The village was a small cluster of abandoned houses.
Every scrap of food and supplies had long since been looted. Some
of the windows were broken and the doors and shutters were torn off
for firewood.
    The company halted as all of the officers met
up with Washington and Greene. Some of the men snacked on their
rations and water, but there was no time to make campfires.
     
    Washington addressed the
circle of officers, still mounted on horseback. They rubbed their
hands together and pulled their cloaks tighter to keep them from
blowing away.
    "It's nearly daylight,"
Washington began, "And we're only halfway to Trenton in this
blasted storm. But we've come this far and the other regiments may
already have attacked as they were ordered to do. We'll prepare for
battle in case the enemy is still there. Now, as we discussed
before, General Greene will take his regiment up the Upper Ferry
Road to Scotch Road and then down Pennington Road to north Trenton.
General Sullivan, you will take your regiment down River Road to
west Trenton and march in at Water Street. When you get to Trenton,
wait there until General Greene's regiment has time to arrive.
Remind the men to remain silent. I still have hopes of making a
surprise attack which should begin precisely at 8:00 a.m. Please
check your watches to make sure we are all at 7:09 a.m. The
password for the operation remains at Victory or Death."
    The officers adjusted their
pocket watches by the light of a small lantern swinging to and fro,
and then rejoined their regiments to begin the final leg of the
march. In less than an hour, their fate would be decided; either
Victory or Death. As they marched ahead, each man knew that this
might well be his last Christmas; his last hour of life. Many of
them prayed silently as they marched, praying to stay alive,
praying not to be taken prisoner, praying not to be wounded or