The World Turned Upside Down

Prologue

November 1780.

The wind blew their song towards us.

The heavy weight of war loomed closer with every beat of their drum. The coming intruders marched slowly into view as the small town held its breath.

The nation was torn, ripped by the seams, wrestling with the Mother for separation. Tired after almost five years of war, the Continental army was kindling a small flame of hope as the New Year approached fast.

The freezing November breeze moved the crimson leaves in the trees, bringing them closer down the main street of the small town, Berkton, Virginia. The Continental Army had dispersed to make their winter encampments and the decision was made that we were going to be hosts.

A silence swept the main street as their marching melody approached. A young ragged-looking boy running down the road shouted, "They said they are the 3rd Maryland Regiment!" Citizens stopped what they were doing and watched the horizon as small red and blue shapes moved closer.

The 3rd Maryland Regiment was a rowdy bunch of old planters, shopkeepers, and teenage boys now altered into a professional well-trained army. The cloud of exhaustion surrounded the men and boys of the army after their long journey and year. The only thing that kept the men going was the sight of their new resting place and the melody played by the fife and drum corps leading the way. The corps led the army's way into the town pushing through the crowd of women and girls that flooded the streets. About halfway down the main road, the Regiment's Connell ordered a halt as the Magistrate came out of his residence to greet them. The corps were instructed to "take ease" and the rank of young men rummaged through the sea of petticoats looking for familiar or friendly faces.

The back of the Regiment was full of teenage boys. They were from families rich and poor, with the same hope of defending their country and gaining status after the war. However, the war had aged these boys beyond their years. The only thing that still made them boys was their curiosity and their strange hopefulness at even the most somber times. A tall, brown-haired fellow scanned the unfamiliar crowd. His gaze rested on a girl standing on the side of the street. Their eyes met. And the rest was history.