“You can come with me, Robbie. My ma would take ya,” a soldier named Oliver Johnson offered. He was amiable enough and sometimes saved me a spot in the mess line. I thought it was probably because I gave him what I didn’t eat, but I appreciated kindness however it came.
“Thank you. But no. I signed up for the duration.”
Davis Dornan didn’t like that. He’d signed up for the duration too, I was quite certain.
“They don’t honor their commitments, so how can they expect us to honor ours?” he asked, eyes shrewd. I couldn’t argue with that, but I wasn’t going to desert, and I just shook my head when they continued to wheedle.
“It’s too damn cold to desert. I think I’m with Shurtliff. It’s one hundred and fifty miles back to Uxbridge,” a man named Laurence Barton concluded, and a few of the others grumbled in agreement, tipping the balance against the idea. By morning, the dangerous conversation seemed to be forgotten, and the whole scouting party made our way back to Nelson’s Point across from Fort Clinton.
“You gonna tell Webb?” Dornan asked me, as we were ferried across the river to West Point landing.
“There’s nothing to tell,” I said quietly. “Nothing happened.”
“That’s right. Nothing happened,” he agreed, but my desperation had risen dramatically. He was suspicious of me, and I was leery of him. I wouldn’t be volunteering for another scouting mission with him or any of the others. Desertion was a crime. Plotting desertion was too.
Occasionally British and Hessian deserters would arrive at the Point, promising fealty and pleading to be taken in, but they never were. Spies abounded, and General Paterson turned them away, often assigning a detachment to escort them all the way back to the British lines to be turned over for treason. It discouraged desertions, and the word quickly spread that quarter would not be given and defectors need not apply.
Desertion and low reenlistments had been a problem from the beginning, but it was only getting worse. The Continental currency continued to plummet, and no amount of coaxing or talk of the glorious cause—as worthy as it was—could convince many to stay once their time was up. Some argued they’d never agreed to their enlistment terms, others simply felt entitled to violate them. I’d heard rumblings, especially after Yorktown, when instead of the war ending, we’d settled in for a long winter. But they’d only been rumblings. This had come dangerously close to more.
When Captain Webb pulled me aside a day later, I thought maybe someone else had talked, and I was in trouble.
“You never want to lead a team, Shurtliff, and you’ve turned down every opportunity to be point,” he began, studying me intently. “I’d think you lacked courage, but that’s clearly not it. You volunteer for the worst jobs, you perform them well, and you don’t complain. I think the only thing I’ve ever heard you say is yessir.”
I waited, hardly breathing.
“You don’t have anything to say?” he prodded.
“No, sir.” I shook my head, and he laughed.
“So I was surprised when General Paterson says he’s spoken to you at length—several times—and found you to be conversant and competent in many things. He said you even taught school.”
I wasn’t sure if I was being commended or scolded, and I waited again, expectant.
“Lieutenant Cole, his aide-de-camp, is unwell. He’s had a wasting cough for some time and another winter in the highlands would have done him in. He has been in Philadelphia since before Yorktown, and the general has been doing without. But he needs a new man, and he has asked to speak to you.”
“A new man?”
“Another aide, Shurtliff. A glorified servant. You’ll serve his guests, deliver messages, and whatever else he requires. But it’s a promotion, one I didn’t know if you’d be interested in, seeing as you haven’t accepted advancement elsewhere.”
“Will I still sleep in the barracks?”
“No. You’ll stay in the Red House. You’ll be at the general’s beck and call, and you’ll go where he goes. I hate to lose you, but you’ll eat better, you’ll sleep better, and I reckon you’ll do me proud.”
“I thought an aide was ch-chosen from among the officers,” I stammered, hardly able to believe my good fortune.
“Usually they are. I’m not saying you’ve got the position. I’m just saying he wants to talk to you. You’ve impressed him. Consider it an interview.”