I pressed my foot into the loamy sand, lifted it and inspected the imprint my "chucks" made. The clear ridges and diamond patterns were clear in the slightly moist earth and a tear came to my eyes. I was impressed to the point that my words failed me. It was not the joy of making a perfect imprint that moved me...it was the earth itself...the place where I stood...and the enormous gratitude I suddenly felt for men I did not know, but who selflessly put their lives on the line for my freedom...our freedom...America's freedom. I looked through the trees at the York river, then set my eyes on the American flag that blew energetically in the wind at the point of the bay. "Thank you, God...thank you so much." Yes, I thanked God because many miraculous battles were won in those last days of the Revolution that sealed the fate of America...and yes, I am so very thankful.
I walked the grounds in reverence. Many men lost their lives here. Many men who were young and had not yet established families, or had left behind a new wife and young children. Old men, who had suffered previous wounds in battle, but who understood the threat that loomed if Britain had its way. General George Washington...who spent six years fighting and training the troops, planning and plotting and narrowly escaping death himself actually stood here...perhaps on the same spot because it would have been a good vantage point to determine the enemies position. I'm filled with awe.
A few yards to the east a ridge of earth was built up over three days by men who worked through the night, cutting down pine trees, stripping the limbs and weaving them into huge baskets they filled with earth and sand until they overflowed. The baskets were lined up next to each other and covered with sod to build fortifications that protected the Revolutionary soldiers. Mounds spanning hundreds of yards across the field have gone undisturbed for centuries and mark the exact locations where the inexperienced American forces fought their final battle. Oh, the French...though they provided necessary assistance, chortled and offered to lift the Americans of their burden, for surely they were more fit to succeed in battle at such an important point of the war. But Lafayette tempered his troops and insisted that the Americans could and SHOULD fight this final battle on their own...and only in the event that they require assistance would the French step in. At one point in the battle General Lafayette asked after defeating a brigade of British soldiers, "We are done with ours, do you need help with yours?" But the Americans refused and the final battle was won by the American men...the fathers and brothers, the sons and the husbands who left their fields in order to fight for liberty. They were not a professional army...they were like you and me. The ordinary. They fought ruggedly...they were brilliant in their bravery...they were determined to live by the amazing Constitution that promised a government for the people, by the people. They were the people...the ones who made it happen.
I walked the grounds in silence, holding my husbands hand. Emotions washed over me as I watched my feet imprint the earth. I bent and touched the ground. Who fell here? Who fell in the name of liberty? I felt good about my citizenry. Whoever fell here did not die in vein. Myself and others like me understand full well the enormity of the gift they fought for...and I live my life in respect of the freedom they won.
