“I do, thanks,” Julia answered, knowing she was less conspicuous with him rather than alone. She kept the binoculars trained on the Buckley cruiser. People were walking in front of it, so she didn’t have a clear view.
“Tomorrow’s going to be special at Valley Forge, a celebration of the country’s 250th anniversary. They’re calling it Really Revolutionary, but that’s a gimmick.” Herman pursed his lips with disapproval. “The park is hosting reenactments of the most important battles by regiments from Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Delaware. The first one is the Battle of Trenton, then the Battle of Princeton, which were victories for us. But then there were defeats at the Battle of Brandywine and Paoli. Our regiment is reenacting the Battle of Monmouth.” Herman pointed. “See that lady over there?”
“Yes.” Julia glanced over, where a woman in colonial garb gave a Continental soldier a drink from a canteen.
“She’s supposed to be Mary Hayes, who was the wife of a Continental soldier. It was so hot at the Battle of Monmouth that she had to give the soldiers water, so she became known as Molly Pitcher. She didn’t use a pitcher. She used a canteen.That’swhat you learn at an authentic reenactment.”
“Interesting.” Julia raised the binoculars again, but the view of the Buckley police cruiser was obstructed.
“Monmouth was an excellent choice for a reenactment because it was the first battle after Valley Forge.” Herman smiled, warming to his topic. “We were losing for three years until we got to Valley Forge, and it was a terrible winter at the encampment, as you probablylearned in school. We lost a lot of men to dysentery and typhus, but Valley Forge ended up being the turning point of the war.”
“How so?” Julia stayed patient, waiting for the view of the Buckley cruiser to clear. “I should remember, but I don’t.”
“At Valley Forge, General Washington realized our army needed to be retrained. So he enlisted General Knox, General Greene, and Baron von Steuben to whip the troops into shape. We entered Valley Forge a mob, but we left an army.”
“Wow,” Julia said, meaning it. Meanwhile the view of the cruiser had just cleared, and Glushenko was getting out.
On the field, one of the Continental Army officers yelled, “Prime and load!” The men took cartridges from their black pouches, put them in the muzzles, and took aim. The officer yelled, “Ready, Present, Fire!”
Boom!The blast startled the crowd, making people cover their ears and babies cry. Flames sparked from the guns, and smoke puffed from the barrels, hazing the air. The crowd oohed and aahed, clapping and laughing.
Julia lost sight of Glushenko and lowered the binoculars. “Herman, they’re not using real guns, are they?”
“They’re replica guns, so they are real. But they’re shooting blanks. You have to know what you’re doing. They have flints and sometimes the flints fall off. Some have machine flints. You have to keep the prisons dry or they don’t spark.” Herman glanced at the sky. “I hope the weather holds out for tomorrow. If it rains, we’ll get a lot of misfires. Water’s no good for a flintlock musket.”
“Where do they get the guns?”
“Collectors, gun shows, or their families.”
“I was at the clubhouse the other night when they were making costumes, and one of the muskets was plastic.”
“What a shame.” Herman frowned. “I don’t approve. We’re trying to teach people history, so we must hew to the authenticity. There was no such thing as colonial plastic.”
“I agree.” Julia kept her tone casual. “Do you know where they get the plastic ones from? Don’t they have to run that by somebody, since it’s not authentic?”
“I’m not sure. They probably got it from the militia. They do explosives, too, for the cannons.”
“Really?”
“Don’t worry. They have experience. You can’t be an amateur, or somebody gets hurt.” Herman pointed. “I think that’s the truck they keep the ordnance in, locked up. You don’t want the kids in there, playing games. It’s not fireworks.”
“Right.” Julia raised the binoculars and looked across the plateau at a boxy U-Haul truck. She tried to see the license plate, but the back end was facing away.
On the battlefield, Redcoats fired, and several Continental soldiers died theatrically. The Redcoats shouted, “Huzzah! Huzzah!” The crowd booed and hissed, then laughed.
“Who are the militia? Is that the same thing as the regiment?”
“No, not at all. The regiment was the regular army.” Herman licked his lips, eager to elaborate. “A militia unit is a group of citizen soldiers.” He pointed across the field to the right. “See, look over there. They’re getting out of the van now.”
Julia looked through the binoculars and saw a group of men in ragtag colonial costumes. She couldn’t see their faces or take pictures from this distance.
“The militia doesn’t have to come to the practices year ’round.That’s why they’re not in uniform. That’s authentic, too. They don’t have to know the formations and commands.”
Julia eyed the militia through the binoculars, and Glushenko emerged into view, talking to them. She felt her heartbeat quicken. It was just what she’d been hoping for. Some of the militia could be his co-conspirators.
“We need a big group today and tomorrow because we outnumbered the British at Monmouth, two to one. The Continental Army didn’t have mercenaries like the British had the Hessians. We had the French and the militia.”
“I see.” Julia kept watching the militia, but she was too far away to see their faces or get decent pictures.