The Day We Discovered the Truth

I was there when the general received the powder return. Thirty-six barrels. For an army of thousands, facing British regulars who could fire three rounds a minute. He dismissed everyone and sat alone. When I returned an hour later, he had composed himself, but I had seen what none of us were supposed to see—the weight of knowing that one British assault could end everything. After that, every decision was shaped by what we lacked. We could not attack. We could barely defend. We could only wait and pray the enemy stayed behind their lines.