John Newcomer – Monongahela River 1755 by Frank Sonderborg

Newcomer primed his weapon as quick as he could. He could manage three shots a minute from his long rifle. All of them hitting a target. He had pulled his Pennsylvania woodsmen into the trees as soon as the ambush happened. And they watched as the pride of the British army got shot to pieces by savages fighting a different war, than the Redcoats were used to. Braddock was an idiot, and Newcomer had said as much to Washington. But was ignored. The Redcoats Brown Bess Muskets blasted out to no effect. Just hitting the dense trees in the forests. The Shawnee, Mingo and Delaware just hid and then returned their deadly fire. There was Canadian militia men in there with them as well, giving us all hell.

Newcomer watched Washington galloping up and down trying to rally the troops to no avail. The Redcoats lined up as they had been trained and followed General Braddock’s outdated orders. But this was wilderness fighting, with wilderness rules. Hide then shoot, ambush, flanking moves, and not the gentleman formal linear battle lines seen in European warfare.

The natives rushed the Redcoats, too busy reloading and hacked them to bits with their tomahawks.

Then the shout went up, General Braddock was down. He’d been shot off his horse. Panic set in, and the thin red line broke, and the rout started. Newcomer gathered his remaining men and headed back down the trail they’d come. Behind them they could hear the screams of Redcoats getting scalped. A Mingo came out of the woods and attacked Newcomer. He plugged him but was immediately jumped by another scalper. This one, Newcomer dispatched with a blow from his tomahawk. The natives had a bloodlust that was making them careless. And the retreating Pennsylvania woodsmen, were not fresh meat just off the boat from Europe. Empty horse’s wild with terror raced on by. Newcomer looked back and could not see a single British officer. They had all been blown out of their saddles. Overdressed glory hunting popinjays. With their bright red uniforms and sparkling ornaments. More suited for entertaining the ladies of the court of King George II, than a wilderness battle. They were prime targets for the natives. Who were all supreme marksmen. The French just pointed these idiots out. And the result was inevitable.

Washington had escaped alive. He’d gone down the road like a bat out of hell. What saved them from total annihilation was rum. The natives fell over the abandoned wagons and in all the looting discovered the 200 gallons of rum. And the chase just stopped. While they drank their fill. Nothing the French could do would move them from their rum. The battle of Monongahela was over. The French, who were out gunned and out manned had pulled off a stunning victory.

But Newcomer and his Pennsylvania woodsmen had learned a hard lesson. The British couldn’t protect them or their kinfolk from the French. Goddamn, they couldn’t even save themselves from the savages. This decided Newcomer and his men, was something they, the American woodsman, would have to carefully consider, when it came to the future of the colonies.