Taken Captive in the Revolutionary War

My name is Devon Parker. A lot of people pronounce my name like Devin; but my real name is pronounced Devawn. I am ninety years old and I fought in the Revolutionary War. My mother was real worried that her baby was fighting in the war. She said there was no need for shooting people. She wanted to live in peace. I wanted to serve my country. If I had to join the army to do it, then I was willing.

I remember my first battle ever...I was eighteen years old. It was a cold December night. Hail and snow were falling from the sky. The ground was covered with snow. All I could hear were gunshots blasting and men screaming. My eyes hurt from all the cannon explosions. The British were closing in on us and I had nowhere to run. One of my men was tugging on my arm trying to say something. I couldn’t really hear him because my left ear was deaf from all the gunshots and explosions. All of a sudden, my hearing came back to me. “Devon!” the man screamed. “Get down!” Bam! A musket shot hit me right on the chest. The force of bullet pushed me back five feet and there I was, lying on the ground half awake and half unconscious. There it goes again; my left ear was deaf. It was hard to stay awake. I struggled and struggled but my eyes kept on closing. Hovering over me was a big Redcoat. He was approximately three hundred pounds and six foot eleven. I think the battle was over. I couldn’t hear anything out of my good ear. All I knew was that I was being carried by a big fat man. I saw the British captain. He ordered the man who was carrying me to place me in the carriage. Once I hit that seat, I was finally asleep. I woke up the next morning behind bars. I was taken captive at the British base. It was cold and damp in the jail cell. No mattress, I had to sleep on the hard cement floor. Slop was for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Boy if I weren’t in jail I would hate that food; but since I was in jail, it was like eating fried beans with sausage. Sausage and beans were especially good when my mother cooked them. It was the best meal in the world. Here comes one of the Redcoats. He gave me my everyday meal. No silverware; I just picked it up with my hands and gobbled it down. I wonder how much trouble I would be in at home if I did that. It was a long night. I couldn’t sleep. I wasn’t used to sleeping this way. At least at my camp they gave you a blanket and pillow. I guess that’s because I wasn’t in jail. There was a lot on my mind. First, I thought about that man who told me to get down. That gunshot still really hurts. I forgot to tell the Redcoats about it. It probably wouldn’t do any good. They shot me. Why heal me? Second, I thought about my family. What are they doing right now? Either they think I’m dead or okay. I hope they think I’m okay. I don’t want them to worry. Third, I thought about how I was going to get out of this place. Maybe I would be in here for life. That would be a bummer. Fourth, I thought of how I was gonna sleep. Maybe if I were to stop thinking. When I finally fell asleep, I had a dream, a weird dream. I had some sort of automatic weapon. It shot like thirty bullets in five seconds. I knew that could never be invented but dreams are dreams. They are very odd and they don’t make sense at all. Anyway, the bars were open to my cell and I walked out. Redcoats were everywhere; but they just let me walk out. My army was at the exit door helping me escape. They asked what type of gun I had. “I don’t have a clue,” I told them. We walked about a mile and I saw my family in army uniforms. I asked them a question, then I woke up. I don’t remember what my question was. For awhile I thought that dream meant something. A couple years later, though, I was still in jail. My dream had not yet come true. Either God put that dream in my head or I just thought that dream up all by myself.

I remember the day a miracle happened. The Redcoats served me rice and corn every day. It was the weirdest thing but that food was delicious. More years and years passed and I didn’t even know how old I was. I think I was seventy but I’m not sure. I had a big fuzzy beard. It was gray and so was my long hair. I swear that I was a caveman.

Finally, my dream came true. Well not exactly. I didn’t have the gun. The general opened the bars.

“Your army has made a deal with us. They will let all their prisoners go if
we let our prisoners go,” he said.

“You agreed?” I asked.

“Yes I did.”

I couldn’t believe it. I thought my dream was just a dream; but it came true. I walked out the door and there was my army. They were escorting me back to my hometown. Like I said, right now I am ninety years old and I have a nice home and dog.

The End