by Katie Ann Bush
Strolling down the crowded hallway after lunch, my best friend Sarah and I talked excitedly because today was finally the day we were going on the fifth grade Revolutionary War scavenger hunt. “I wonder where it will be, Abigail!” Sarah exclaimed to me.
“I heard that it will be in the woods,” I offered. We walked the rest of the way in silence pondering what adventures might await us. Once everybody was present, our teacher Mrs. Emerson announced, “Today is the scavenger hunt! It will be no easy task because it is located in the woods. Everyone will receive a clue and a compass. You will work in pairs. There is a yellow boundary line that you must not pass. Now please line up.”
Outside she divided us into pairs putting Sarah and I together. She gave everyone the tools and sent us off. I looked at the clue and read it aloud, “Head north until you see a tree with a Revolutionary War picture.”
We looked at our compasses and headed north. A few minutes later, we came to a tree with a picture of the crossing of the Delaware tacked to it. In unison we reached out and touched it and were instantly sucked into December 23, 1776 right before the crossing of the Delaware.
Shocked by the sudden shift in time, I looked around not daring to believe what had happened. Sarah was the first to speak, “Did we really just teleport into right before the crossing of the Delaware?”
“I think so,” I replied.
All around us were tired, weary looking soldiers. Some with no shoes on in the bitter cold. Suddenly, George Washington walked over to a nearby tent accompanied by two other commanders. Sarah and I edged closer to overhear their conversation.
Washington secretly explained his strategic plan, declaring, “On Christmas evening we are going to cross the Delaware River in three groups so that we can launch a surprise attack on the Hessians at Trenton. I will set off from McKonkey’s Ferry with 2,400 men and land just north of Trenton. Colonel Cadwalader, you will take 1,000 men and cross at Dunk’s Ferry to create a diversion with the Hessians in Bristol. General Ewing, you will cross at Trenton Ferry with 1,000 men and seize the bridge at Assunpink Creek to eliminate that Hessian escape route. Horses and artillery will cross last.” Before we could hear anymore, we walked away for fear of getting caught.
“I think we should go with Washington’s group. What’s your opinion, Abigail?” Sarah asked.
“I agree,” I responded. “And we should go with the horses for stealth.”
“Let’s do it!” Sarah confirmed.
We stayed the next few nights hidden in a small tent that held crates and barrels along with a few blankets. On Christmas day the army knew nothing of the mission until the afternoon when they were quietly told to prepare to cross the Delaware River.
At nightfall the snow was falling more densely, and it was hard to see anything. Repeatedly, boats full of men filled the river and then disappeared into the whirl of snow and returned again ready to retrieve more men. After six hours the soldiers had crossed, and they started to load the horses. We snuck aboard a boat that had a beautiful chestnut horse. The moment the boat was pushed away from the bank, there was no turning back. The ice-choked river was 800 feet across, and the current was strong. Ice floes constantly knocked against the boat blocking our path and splashing us. Even with a heavy coat and blanket, I was still freezing cold and wet. Abruptly, the boat hit the shore and soldiers helped the horse off, creating an opportunity for us to disembark. Without notice once our feet hit the ground, we were transported back to our classroom.
All around us our classmates seemed to appear out of nowhere. Once everyone returned, our teacher announced, “Only one hour has passed since you departed. I would like every group to tell the class about their adventures. Abigail and Sarah, you may go first.”
We told our class how we had crossed the Delaware and seen George Washington. The next group to share said that they witnessed the battle of Trenton. I was anything but bored while the whole class recited their stories.
When everyone was done, I asked Mrs. Emerson, “How were you able to transport us into those times?”
“I am not allowed to tell you that,” she answered with a smile. The buses came and picked everyone up and brought us all home where we divulged our tales again.
This writing is part of a collection featured in the 2020 Celebrate the Arts Writing Contest, an annual contest hosted by The Arts Council of Westerville, Westerville Public Library and the ThisWeek Westerville News & Public Opinion as one of many events organized by the Arts Council to mark April as “Celebrate the Arts” month in Westerville.
