Answering Liberty's Call

Enlisted Men’s Quarters, Valley Forge, Pennsylvania

January 22, 1778

Ruth and Gideon share quarters with two other officers. Their hut’s single room is smaller than my chamber at Uncle’s, with a blanket hung across the middle to give the newlywed couple a bit of privacy. When I survey the state of my soiled clothes, I’m mortified. Everything is grimy and smells of sweat, horse, and river water.

Ruth takes it all as a matter of course. “I’ll have someone wash them for you in the morning. Everything should be dry in time for your trip home.” She wraps up the dirty clothes and grabs a bucket in her free hand. “The men are on watch until midnight. I’ll fetch water so you can bathe and lend you some of my things to wear while you’re here.”

I want to hug her for her kindness but decide it’s better to wait until after I’ve washed. 

When I emerge, scrubbed pink and glowing from the heat of the fire, my bathwater is the color of wet ashes. The feel of the fresh linen shift Ruth leaves toasting near the hearth is a luxury I took for granted until two weeks ago and I am sure I could want nothing more than the simple, russet-colored woolen she lends me to wear. As I dry my hair, the glints of firelight in the dark strands match the gown. I finish putting on the clean stockings—heavens, clean stockings—and my boots just as Ruth returns. I emerge from behind the curtain with a flourish, like an actor stepping on stage. 

“That color becomes you!”

“I imagine it also looks lovely on you.”

Her pale skin flushes. “Sergeant Stone is waiting for you outside. Here, you may take this shawl. Your hair is still damp. Do you have a cap?”

My insides flutter as I settle the shawl on my shoulders. “My cap is not fit to wear without a good scrubbing but I’m used to being outdoors and will be fine for such a short walk. Benjamin will keep me warm.” I embrace her with as much affection as I would Betsy. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me and for my brothers, Ruth.”

The fluttery feeling grows more intense as Benjamin leads me across camp to his quarters. Is it the fact I’m wearing a young wife’s fresh clothing that makes me feel like a bride? Every soldier we pass glances at me as if he can read my thoughts. If tonight proves to be anything like the last time Benjamin and I reunited, I’ll not be able to thumb through the memories later without someone recognizing wanton pleasure in the smile on my lips. 

Benjamin pushes open the rough door of his hut. As I step inside, the flutter in my stomach plummets and my smile dies. Joseph and the two other soldiers who huddle around the fire fill the space in the tiny, smoky hut. 

Though I nod to each soldier as Benjamin makes introductions, I forget their names as soon as I hear them—and then I remember why I have come.

“You all must be hungry. I’ve brought food from home.”

Their faces light up. In a flash, I’m untying the sacks of nuts and dried fruit and cutting strips of bacon to lay in the spider that stands over the flames.

It’s a poor meal compared to what I would serve at home. I lack the time to boil beans or soak the dried fish until it’s ready to fry. While the men eat every morsel I set before them, I unpack the other bundles and give Benjamin and Joseph the clothes and blankets I’ve brought. 

All the men linger around the fire. Benjamin seems reluctant to ask them to give us some privacy but I’m not about to renew relations with my husband with strangers—or my brother—in the room.