The Battle Of Bunker Hill

A Sea of Red

I look over Bunker Hill, enjoying the sweet afternoon and dreading the
events to come. Overnight, Breed Hill, an exact copy of Bunker Hill, has become a fortress of doom and despair. My brother, Joseph, believed the fort would terrify the British and
scare them off. But that seemed highly unlikely.
As I counted the numerous cannons lining the fortress walls, I heard the
thundering of hooves and men shouting. Alarmed, I saw that the group of spies who were watching the Redcoats movement had arrived back at camp. Although I could not hear
what the spies were saying, it was obvious what was going on. Before
orders were even spoken, I ran to the wounded area, my skirts billowing behind me.
Already the nurses were bustling around, laying down bedding and taking out medical supplies.
"Lina! Where have you been girl? Bah, never mind that now. Grab an
apron and get to work, barked Merideth, the head nurse." Merideth is a squat old woman with
graying hair, aging eyes, and a bad attitude. When the wounded area was ready I went outside to see what was going on. I immediately wished I hadn't. Lined on the horizon
were thousands of British soldiers, looking like a sea of blood. A battalion of about 200 men left the fortress to meet the British. When the two
forces were about 100 yards from each other, one officer from both sides met and exchanged words. After about a minute of talk they turned from each other to walk back
to their armies. At that moment, a soldier from our side misfired his gun and shot a Redcoat in the arm. A fusillade of shots followed as well as the screams of wounded soldiers. Smoke filled the air and I lost sight of the battle. Through the smoke I could see flashes of light from the firing of muskets, and dread filled my heart.