My Dear Laurens (Lams)

A. Hamilton

A bayonet in every soldier's hands. Crouching soldiers feeding effort into a quiet approach. Hands trembled. Some with excitement and some with fear. Other hands were like tendrils of water. Movements of liquid and calm precision.

The air was still. The evening sun had massaged the white ground causing a soft splash with every footstep. The trees were bare. Their bodies deprived of flesh and blood left with only bone. A skeleton as immobile as the scraps of war. Scraps like dead men, or wasted lives.

Splish, splash. Splish, splash.

Newly-appointed General Lee turned around on his horse and looked down at his troop. They were chosen by George Washington to lead on one British camp, while others like Washington and Lafayette, who recently returned from France, fought at another. Among the faces Lee skimmed over were Alexander and Laurens. They were not happy about their new commanding officer, but nothing could be done to alternate this reality.

Alexander's controlled, liquid streams held his bayonet tight. He matched the gaze of Lee. Lee's eyes flickered to someone else.

"We don't have to worry about having a plan," Lee said, projecting to the huddled group of men. "The British are not ready for our attack, so as soon as we get there, charge and kill as many of them as you can. Fight on your own accord, and we will win."

The soldiers had quizzical expressions on their faces. They looked to each other hoping a comrade had an answer as to why their general seemed to be such an idiot. The other soldier had no answer. Between Laurens and Alexander, Laurens had asked the question, and Alexander had an answer.

"What the hell is wrong with Lee? That plan isn't gonna work." Laurens furrowed his brows.

Alexander glared at Lee. "Lee should never have been appointed General. He's the worst choice for the job, and he makes that obvious every time he opens his mouth."

Laurens sighed. "If he wants us to fight on our own accord, then our best bet is to stick together and cover each other, and hope everyone else has the same idea."

"Good idea, but we can't hope everyone else has the same idea, we have to let them know before we jump into this." Alexander turned his head to scan the small crowd before him. He saw one soldier right behind him, who had the eyes of a bird locked in a cage. Alexander had one chance to mend as many wrongs as Lee already made before the battle began. He nudged Laurens with his elbow and lifted his chin to the man behind them. "Stop a few men and let them know to form groups of two or more, so they can cover each-"

"Attack!" Lee pumped his arm in the air, with a sword in his hand. His horse reared, then sprinted in the direction of the British camp.

Alexander turned to Laurens with a cold stare.

"Fuck," he spat. "There's no time. You and I will stick together, and I guess the only thing we can do now is hope the others had the same idea. You should have bet on those words, Laurens."

Laurens laughed briefly but turned to the encampment. It was in plain sight despite the many naked trees surrounding it. He held his bayonet and took a step forward. Both Alexander and Laurens watched as their troop charged in front of them with their guns ready and battle cries tearing from their throats.

"So much for subtlety." Laurens turned to Alexander. "Cover me."

Alexander opened his mouth to combat this order, but Laurens already sprinted ahead. Alexander rushed to catch up and found himself right behind Laurens in a second. He placed himself at Laurens' side and pointed his bayonet at the battlefield. Alexander couldn't seem to hear a thing. His only working senses were his touch and sight.