Bayonet Charge – Narrative Piece

Kaylan Berthier Albert

Narrative Piece

Poem : Bayonet Charge

It was on April 19th 1775 that the revolutionary war started, the fight for independence and power. Soldiers were fighting at will for their countries, some would fall and some would rise and continue. Bayonets blazed across the battlefield as each flag was raised in pride. This was an environment in which only the bravest of soldiers belonged; Thomas James unfortunately was not one of them. A troop came over to help him as he lay on the ground in fear and disbelief of what he had gotten himself into. He found it difficult to function in such a place. However, something had kept telling him to keep going and he knew his country needed him.

The troops of each side shot back and forth like clockwork, creating smogs of smoke all across the field, blowing in the harsh wind as the rain came tumbling down.

As the patriots regrouped they became ambushed by the British, taking fire from left and right.

As they fled an explosion happened right before Thomas’s eyes, that sent 5 troops into mid-air. Thomas stood in shock as he could not believe what he had just witnessed before him. He stood there for a second leaving open fire for any British troop to gun him down with ease. As he witnessed the fallen troops before him, he thought about how bad it would be in a few days, months, and years from this day. How would the loved ones of every individual would take the news? The news that their loved ones had been killed in battle, knowing they’d would never see them again. Thomas then thought about himself and his family, what would it be like if it was him that was blown to pieces. He was quickly shoved out of the way and awaken to reality, as the patriots fled from the British to regroup again.

The first day of battle had gone wrong, and with it being the first day, there was no telling as to what could be coming soon. The patriots later on returned to the base where wounded soldiers could be taken into care, and strategies could be made for battle the next day. After going over battle plans Thomas returned to his tent where another troop stood there waiting for him. The same soldier who shoved and awakened him back to reality. Thomas strolled towards him and firmly shook his hand and thanked him. He passionately embraced the troop. They continued introducing themselves to each other, the troops name was Jonathan Robertson. Thomas carried on shaking his hand and gestured him into the tent. They began speaking softly. “I never thought it would be anything as bad as this,” Thomas said.

Deep thoughts ran through Thomas’s head, battle highlights played in his mind like an endless movie. He rose early in the morning, barely gaining any rest in the night. Suddenly there were distant gunshots and explosions were being heard in the distance, a troop rushed into Thomas’s tent “Wake up! We are under attack of the British!” he shouted. Thomas got up as quick as possible,he put on his armory and grabs his bayonet and rushed out his tent.

The British were ambushing from the north and the south of the base, trapping each side. They were rushing in quickly, Thomas had to act fast as deaths were doubling by the minute. He went to the north side of the base tents were going up in flames, the fire spread like a contagious disease. Thomas regrouped with the fighting troops, as he arrived to the battlefront he came across Jonathan. He lay on the floor with his chest blown, blood was flowing from his body like a fast flowing river. Thomas look him in the eyes and held him, as he took his last breath and struggled as he said “Don’t give up”.

Jonathan was Thomas’s only encouragement to continue, he felt an overwhelming emptiness and anger build up at the same time inside of him now that he was gone. Thomas stood up in courageousness to face the British and avenge his friend. The anger overcame Thomas’s body as he ran through the field, firing his bayonet at will at as many soldiers as he could. As he took two shots to the back he continued running and shooting until he could no longer breath, he then took one in each of his legs. He stumbled to the ground and bled to death, watching everyone of the troops behind him continue to fight and listened to the muffled gunshots and explosions surrounding him in the center of the battlefield. Thomas died knowing he could never be one of them.