Tater Hales' Dispatch from the American Revolution John Paul Jones Naval Hero, September 1779

I don't have a lot of time for you today because I was up late last night breaking up the ruckus with these two militiamen a couple of tents down from where I was trying to catch some much-needed shuteye.
Just about the time ole Tater was about to dream about something more pleasing than bugs, redcoats and sickness, I heard loud yelling coming from jake Wennington's tent. I grabbed my trousers and ran to find Jake shoving his tent-mate, William Simon. Even after I broke them up, would you believe Jake had the nerve to say, "I haven't started fighting yet?"
So I took the time to tell them a little story, and you know no one tells stories like the Tater, about one of our American heroes who said something like that - John Paul Jones.
You may not have heard of him yet, but I would imagine they'll soon be writing songs about this character. He's the Scottish-born commander who spit in the British navy's eye when they demanded the surrender when the Bonhomme Richard (named after Benjamin Franklin) was sinking. Jones told them, "Sir, I have not yet begun to fight." More than three hours later, the British commander surrendered his ship, the Serapis, to Jones.
You should have seen the shamed look on Jake's face when I reached this part in my story, but of course, I wasn't close to being finished.
I hate to admit it, but Jones was almost as colorful a character as yours truly, although ole Tater is better looking. He was born July 6, 1747 in Kirkcudbright, Scotland and began his career on the sea as a cabin boy in the British merchant marines at the age of 12.
You may have heard some snickers about him working o slave ships and how he had to high-tail it to North America after he killed a crewman who was plotting mutiny in the West Indies. If I'd caught him on my ship, he would have been shark nuggets.
But being a fugitive from the mother country put Jones in position to join the Continental Navy and within a year of captaining the Providence, he captured 16 British prize ships. The following year, in 1777, Jones took command of the Ranger and he received from the French the first salute given to the new American flag by a foreign warship. Then, here we are two years later, and the battle on Aug. 14, 1779 that will no doubt make John Paul Jones a household name in the new country.

Tater Hales' Dispatch from the American Revolution Valley Forge Suffering and Renewal, 1777-78

Well, Ole Tater has had his share of bad times, but nothing compares to the time when Gen. Washington decided to march us to Valley Forge for our winter quarters. Tho' we were feeling pretty good about our victory at Saratoga, many of our comrades were killed at the battle of Brandywine. We knew we could still kick some red coats, but winter had set in and Gen. Washington felt we needed to regroup.
It was a good thing, too, 'cause we were "an army of skeletons . . . naked, starved, sick and discouraged." After marching 25 miles through the snow, without shoes and pretty much just eating trees, Congress decided to make a day of thanksgiving for our victory at Saratoga. They gave us half a pound of rice and water. Well, you don't want to know what ole Tater thought of that mess.
With no food and no clothes, you can imagine how sick we were. More than 3,000 died that winter and more than 1,000 were still too ill for combat. I think we suffered most because our Quartermaster Gen. Thomas Mifflin wanted "glory on the battlefield," not the mundane mess of getting troops supplies."
Gen. Washington fired Mifflin and by March Gen. Nathaniel Green began to bring us our supplies.
Some of our country's patriots didn't come from our own ranks . . . they came from the surrounding towns. A German-born baker named Christopher Ludwig came to our camp to bake bread. He wanted no payment, but I want my future Tater generation to always remember him and to give thanks to him. Without him, we would not have been able to regain our strength.
As food, clothes and supplies came in, we got better physically, but our spirits were still dampened. We didn't look like an army and we sure didn't act like one. Even though Gen. Washington gave orders, some of our men just didn't know how to behave. Then one day, in walked an unbelievable sight. A big, tall, heavy-set Prussian man who went by the title, Baron von Steuben, brings his staff to inspect us. His greyhound dog followed him around, but stayed close 'cause some of us thought greyhound stew sounded pretty good at the time. The baron spoke no English, but you didn't need English to tell us how to use a gun.
He started to whip us into shape, yelling and cursing up a storm, and when we didn't react to his Prussian curses, he got his aides to curse at us in English. He showed each person how to drill and even wrote the army's very first manual of arms and drill. He started out with teaching 100 of his best NCOs, and then they in turn taught the rest of us.
Of course, my grandpappy already taught me how to use my rifle, but this training came just in time for some of these other greenies. Pretty soon, we got to feeling a little bit of pride come back into our unit. Gen. Washington continued to lobby Congress on our behalf and soon we had gotten paid for "sticking it out through the miseries of the winter." Washington even added a ration of rum for each of us. Some of the local farmers began bringing in food and soon we were ready to go, especially since hearing that France had joined us in the war effort.
We broke camp by June and attacked the British during their retreat from Philadelphia, as they were heading back to New York City. We almost lost this battle due to an arrogant and inept Gen. Charles Lee, but as always, Gen. Washington galloped among his men and rallied us to keep driving the British out of our land. I wouldn't say we won this battle at Monmouth Courthouse, but they were definitely on the run. And it was clear to everyone that we were a fair match for 'em!

Tater Hales' Dispatch from the American Revolution Crossing the Delaware - Dec. 26, 1776

People never had to tell me what to do, so I never put much of my Tater brain to think much about leaders. But I've changed my mind after watching Gen. Washington since we had to high-tail it out of New York. Not only did he keep this army together to fight the British another day, but he's kept the soldiers ready to do anything, including crossing a frozen Delware River.
I watch him just like all the Continental soldiers do.
Last night with everyone's mind on Christmas, Gen. Washington ordered readings of Thomas Paine's "Common Sense," just published three days ago in Philadelphia.
But I can't help but wonder what awaits this army, as well as its general, on the other side of this frozen pond. What are the consequences now that we've crossed? What would they be if we didn't cross? These are the questions that must be going through the general's mind, yet you never see Gen. Washington waiver once he makes a decision.
Some musket-mouth, smart-alecks poked fun at the general's retreat after the disastrous defeat at Long Island.
But Gen. Washington himself put it best. "The army had to be saved at all costs," he said.
"Unless we are absolutely forced into, we shall avoid a large battle. With the fate of America at stake, our job is to prolong this war as much as possible."
John Adams said the difference at Long Island was "in general, our generals were outgeneraled." I'm not the quickest revolver on the battlefield, but if the look on Gen. Washington's face is telling me anything, I say that won't happen again. The general seems to know he needs to take a gamble to hold the troops together and keep our little revolution alive.
Since the defeat at Long Island, followed by losses at Forts Washington and Lee on the Hudson River, our army's been in a sad condition. Our 6,000 troops are tired, hungry and footsore. Half of the volunteers plan on leaving as soon as their enlistments expire by the first day of 1777. The army limped its way through New Jersey to this spot on the Delaware River, with Trenton and its British and Hessian mercenaries not too far away.
But we look at our general and find renewed hope. This army is still alive. The long winter's almost over. We have more fight left in our liberty-craving souls.
This is just Tater thinking on his way to Trenton, but the bottom line after this miserable winter of 1776 is this: The general seems to think we're about to do something big. So do I.