A trip to the battlefield

The icebergs in the river are crunching against one another and our boats are rocking fiercely in the water. Trembling with cold, I am together with George Washington, our commander in chief, and my fellow soldiers. We are heading to a battlefield.

Feeling worried for my life and leaving my family behind, my soaking wet feet keep kicking the icebergs, which smells of minerals, to make way for our boat to move past the thawing ice. I am losing feeling of my toes and the chill is biting at my nose. My hands are full of blisters and splinters. My fellow soldiers are pulling the reins to calm down the horses that are neighing in fear of the rocking boat. The restless horses exude sweat with pungent smell. Some of us are securing the cannons in place to the boat.

As we start getting closer and closer to the battlefield, I am feeling even more petrified. Our commander is not feeling scared at all though! Although the boat is swaying tremendously, he does not budge at all. Atop of everyone and in one hand holding a dagger and a spy glass in another, he is like a statue pinned to the bottom of the boat. The sun is slowly rising up and spring is melting the icebergs slowly. It is indicating a triumph ahead of us.