Last War (12 page)



XIV

World Trade Center, Building 7

Thursday September 6, 2001 7:00 p.m.

    
Jason gazed into his own reflection in the mirror. His light brown stubble-bearded face stared back at him. His face reminded him of his background.

    
Somehow, not looking in the mirror allowed him to become caught up in the now -- someone who he wasn’t, internally – so, every once and a while, when work was too much, or the issues at hand were very deep, he’d take a trip to a mirror.

     The self-awareness
always grounded him. That reflection was representative of how people viewed him. It was always sobering.

    
The echo of his phone ringing sounded out through the bathroom. It was Jillian – his first wife.

    
“Hey, hun. Wassup?”

    
“Are you going to be home at a reasonable time tonight?”

    
“I’m still trying. What time is it now?”

    
“It’s quarter after 7.”

    
“I can make it home tonight, for sure. What’s Nessa doing?”

    
“She just finished up eating dinner. She’s been working on a project for school. You remember their history class is coming downtown to visit the World Trade Center next Tuesday? Will you be busy? I think they really want to see your office and building.”

    
“So, it is, in fact, Tuesday the 11
th
? Which building were they originally supposed to be visiting?”

    
“South Tower, I think. Whichever one has the observatory at the top.”

    
“For a girl born and raised in Manhattan, you sure seem to never know anything.” Jason laughed.

     “Oh, hush.”

     “I’m kidding, sweetie. We actually will be kinda busy. Defences are running a few tests that day, but I’ll see if I can carve out some time.”

    
Jason heard Vanessa’s little voice off in the distance on the other end of the phone. Jill yelled off into the background, “Yeah, it’s your dad.” Jillian’s small voice returned to the mic of the phone. “Ok. Well, Nessa wants to talk to you.”

    
“Ok. Put her on.” A tranquil ease breezed through his body whenever he was able to speak with his daughter after some time away from her. Everything frustrating somehow became OK.

    
“Hey, daddy. Can you do me a favor?”

    
“Sure, sweetpea, what is it?”

    
“I need to hear the next part of the story now. I’m doing my project on what we’ve been talking about and I want to reach a certain point before I go to bed.”

    
“Alright. Where did I leave off?”

    
“Washington leaving New York.” 



Jason to Vanessa

February 23, 1778

     The air was blistering cold, and Washington’s army were slowing down due to the lack of sufficient protection from the cold weather. They exited New York before coming into contact with Red Coats in Trenton; an encounter that would prove to be a bloody, but somewhat encouraging, battle.

     With what was left of that narrow escaping, Washington and his gang switched directions slightly inward to flee the British Red Coats.
After losing a couple of attempts to regain control of America’s, now captured capitol, Philadelphia, he wanted to buy some time for his ailing, depleting, unfit-for-battle, army.

     They settled in a p
lace just outside of the capitol which was, like New York City, completely under the control of the British. He wanted to be far enough from the city to prevent a surprise attack, but close enough to monitor their doings. He named the winter camp Valley Forge. They only built enough shelters and buildings to settle for a moment and recoup. In the spring, they were to return to battle.

     “General Washington.”
An officer called out.

     “Who’s there? Come in.”

     The young soldier opened the door. “General, Baron Von Steuben has arrived.”

     Leaning forward, Washington ordered, “Let him in.”

     Von Stuben had a seat across from Washington who had just finished looking over some thoughts he had jotted in his journal about his recent experiences.

    
“Having quite the experience, General? I’m here to assist.”

     “I
t’s kind of you to do this. That much moreso because you’ve refused pay.”

    
“For the time being.” Von Stuben corrected.

     “
How does this war appear to you?”

    
Von Stuben’s wooden chair creaked as he shifted to cross his legs. “These men are undisciplined.” He said, calmly. “They have a spirit like I’ve never seen before. This isn’t a job for them, this is a cause. They’ve survived a blistering winter fighting -- and all on merely a cause. That’s special.”

     Washington massaged the stubble on his jaw
as his servant walked in with a blade and shaving cream. As Washington shook off his top coat and loosened his shirt, he responded, “What do you think we should do, sir?”

     “
Well, clearly, the British are too experienced and there are too many of them. You have men who are untrained and although their free-spirit is the strength, they’re untamed. There’s no way you can prevail in this state.”

     Washington listened as
his servant lathered up more shaving cream and applied it to Washington’s throat.

    
“That sounds like the intro of a white flag discourse.” Washington said.

     “No sir. I’m
simply inquiring about the condition of our men. We must have a better structure. I’m wondering if you have some ideas for the spring? Your men seem concerned.”

     “Where do you think we went wrong?” Washington asked as his servant began to apply the blade to his throat.

     “Well, we give up a lot of experience. Their weapons are better, they’re more disciplined and those things will kill us. We’re not prepared for this weather, the men are getting sick and dying. We have the Red Coats on our tails, but fortunately this snow has postponed the war. If we don’t use this time properly to retool, the inevitable is going to happen.”

     Washington put his hand up indicating for his servant to stop shaving. He sat up in his chair.

     “So then, we’ll have to make the British inexperienced. We’ll have to make our weapons better, we’ll have to make our army more disciplined than theirs, and we’ll have to fight the sickness. We shall not give in. Not by any means.”

    
“Indeed. You didn’t think I travelled this far to give in, did you? These men put me out of Philadelphia, also. Now it’s my turn to return the favour.”

     “
They seek control. Multiple times, I’ve been presented with a treaty by the British government, when they had the upperhand and ability to wipe us off the face of this land.” Washington said. “Each time they’ve held back. Why? They seek victory in control, not victory in depletion. Without us, they lose what they’re fighting for.” He laid back in his chair motioning for the servant to return, as he spoke up again. “It’s a losing situation for them. They want to beat us into submission. I’ve received a series of letters from the British commanders who addressed me as ‘General Washington.’ That, therefore, is progress. They want to call us treasonous but acknowledge our independence. We have made strides. And I do not intend to forfeit them.” The servant took a slow swipe down Washington’s jaw as he finished up.

     Von Steuben stood up.
“OK. We’re going to change the rules. I’ll be sure to revolutionize the way we fight.”

     Washington sat up while dousing his face with a warm rag. “Very well, General.”

     As Von Steuben turned to leave he stopped in his tracks. “Have you heard from Ben on the French?”

     Washington cracked a smile.

     Von Steuben put on his cap and headed for the door. “Good day, sir.”



     “So what happened then?” Vanessa asked.

    
“Well, Baron Van Steuben trained the men. The army put up a bit of resistance, but eventually, things shaped up.”

    
“Wasn’t it cold, and the men were sick and dying?”

    
“Yes. But it wasn’t just the cold. You see, they had built shelters to protect them from the cold. Diseases had ravaged through the camp defeating Washington’s crew even more badly than actual combat.”

    
“So what did they do?”

    
“As usual with the way this country was formed, risks had to be taken. Lives had to be sacrificed – but fortunately, this worked out. You remember when you were younger and we would take you to the doctors for needles?”

    
“Yes.”

     “
Those were called anti-bodies. This was what Washington used to protect his camp. Unfortunately, a lot of men died, but General Washington used the sick people and took a small dosage of the disease out of them and put it into the healthy people.”

    
“Why would he do that?”

    
“The body knows how to protect itself. And the small dosage he would put in the healthy person, would teach the body how to kill the disease should it ever return.”

    
“Oh, but he’d never give more than the body can handle?”

    
“Exactly. You’ve got it.”

    
“So is that what those needles were all the time?”

    
“Yes. But, we’ve come a very long way since then. What we have now is much more advanced.”

    
“What about the fighting? Did they get better?”

    
“Yes, they did. As the camp became stronger, they trained harder. They developed a better gameplan and designed more accurate weapons to coincide with their new strategy.”

    
“What did they do?”

    
“Well, the weather got warm, they went back to fighting. The Red Coats were used to fighting in open field battles. So, the Americans decided to defeat them as snipers. They hid behind trees with their new deadly accurate rifles that could hit a target from three football fields away.”

    
“Wow.”

    
“Yeah, and they put swords on the end of their rifles so that if it ever came to hand-to-hand battle, they’d have an extra weapon in one. They were ready to fight. Their first line of business was to take out all the Native American informants that were helping the Red Coats learn the land, then to kill the generals. They were successful.”

    
“That’s crazy. So eventually, they ended up winning the war and the country got its freedom from Britain?”

    
A co-worker walked into the bathroom. “Oh, Jason. There you are. Been looking all over the place for you. We need you. There’s a problem with the squawk box. Transmissions are showing up off time.”

    
Jason motioned with his hand to the co-worker before responding to Vanessa.

    
“Yup. You’ve got it. Thanks to wily Ben Franklin, the French came and helped us finish them.”

    
“Well I’m getting sleepy. I’m gonna tryta finish up this timeline and report, then when you get home you can help me with the visuals?”

    
“Definitely, sweetpea.”

     “Loveya
, daddy.”

    
“Love you more. Before you put your mom back on the phone, I want you to remember something. This is what I want you to take from this portion of the story. Keep your eyes open, always, honey. Because you can’t suspect something that you don’t know exists.”

     “OK, daddy. I’ll remember. Love you.”

      Jason heard the phone switch over to Jill. “Hello?” She said in her dainty voice.

    
“Something just came up, but, I’m still gonna be able to get there before she goes to bed. OK?”

             
“Alright, Jason. Please.”

             
“I love you, babe.”

             
“Love you, too.”