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January 5, 2011
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December 13th, 1777
Morristown, New Jersey
Washington's Encampment

I never realized just how cold and harsh winter could be on the human body. Even if my body isn't entirely human I still feel the bitter, winter winds chilling my bones, whipping at my skin, and turning my nose and cheeks as red as the cloth on my uniform. The snow already is up nearly to my knees and winter's end isn't anywhere in sight.
General Washington offered to let me stay in his home where I would live in as much luxury that could be offered, but the guilt of watching my men freeze outside is too much for me to deal with. If I could I would let all of them live in the same luxury as the officers, I mean these men are sacrificing everything they are just so that one day this country could be independent, but unfortunately that wish is impossible. Money was tight enough as it was. General Washington had sent several messages to congress asking for provisions and supplies for the troops, but no one is listening. I've even tried asking for extra supplies, but they don't believe that the camp is in as much peril as we say it is.
Everyone, every camp, even civilians are in need during this long winter and after having nearly all of our ties for foreign trade cut off by England's ships. Money is hard to come by especially now when we can't even grow tobacco and crops to sell to other countries. Food is running low and some people are becoming desperate. No one has the proper clothes to stave off winter's chill. A handful of soldiers don't even have shoes. It's only a matter of time before the screams of men with frost bite set into their limbs start filling up the camp.  
I'm more stressed as the days go on. Keeping that optimistic demeanor I always prided myself on is getting more and more difficult to keep up. I only hope that winter will be over before I lose my mind.
Alfred F. Jones
The United States of America

December 16th, 1777
Princeton, New Jersey
British Encampment

I have never been one to mind winter very much. I represent a country that usually experiences heavy rain and chilling winds on a regular basis so the cold has never been something that bothered me. It is difficult to experience the season in a home that is not my own and it is even more so difficult now that I am at war with America instead of braving the weather with him. Ingrate.
But still the winter has been harsh so far, but the troops are doing well for the time being. Provisions are in somewhat short supply, but it's not as if my trading routes have been blocked off unlike a certain ungrateful git. The men are clothed and all have shoes save for maybe one or two people, but with my letter to parliament it will only be a matter of time before a ship arrives with more relief.
I have heard that America's troops have it very rough this winter. There is only little or no food. The men don't have proper clothing for winter and even several do not have the simple object of shoes. It serves those bloody rebels right. America should have been smart enough to know that things like this would happen if he dared stand against me.
Hopefully by the time this winter is over I will have put that bastard back in his place. He has no right to stand against me, the British Empire, and expect to not feel the sharp, sting of defeat. It is only a matter of time before he is finished with his tantrum.
He is much too innocent and naïve to deal with the wiles of war and it won't be long until it breaks him entirely.

Arthur Kirkland
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

December 18th, 1777
Morristown, New Jersey
Washington's Encampment

Everything is slowly declining. Slowly getting worse. It's like a ball of snow rolling down a steep, steep hill. The farther we fall the more problems gather and we're falling way too fast. During my routinely circle around the camp I can faintly hear a few men discussing the idea of abandonment. About leaving the rest of the soldiers to defend their freedom while they return to the- compared to this- cushy lives they used to lead.
Hearing these words makes me sick to my stomach, but it makes my blood boil at the same time. How dare them. Are they such cowards, such weaklings that they won't even see the journey they started to the end? Hearing these words makes my heart clench. I want freedom so badly. No, I don't want it, I need it. I need like I need to breathe air, like I need to eat food, like I need to sleep. Freedom is no longer some folly, it's a necessity.
An officer came into my cabin a moment ago; he said that four men have abandoned the army and disappeared into the blackness of surrounding woods.
We're falling so fast and there is nothing I can do to slow us down.

Alfred F. Jones
The United States of America

December 20th, 1777
Princeton, New Jersey
British Encampment

Winter is getting tougher on my men, more so then I expected it would. Moral is starting to drop among the men with Christmas naught, but a few meager days away. All of them long to be home in Britain along with their families, wives, and children. But we have a duty to fulfill and I am not going to let some god forsaken holiday get in the way of my victory.
They can try to celebrate if they wish, drink, eat, sing carols, I do not give a damn for any of that nonsense. The pleasantness of Christmas vanished for me long ago and now I shall spend it only with a bottle of premium rum and maybe a spot of wine.
Christmas be damned.

Arthur Kirkland
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

December 25th, 1777
Morristown, New Jersey
Washington's Encampment

Well, once again Christmas is here, but spirits are hardly up. Christmas is much too much of a British tradition and as such no one wants to bother with it. Not even a single carol can be heard among the men who huddle around the fires. Someone managed to get a hold of a bottle of whisky and we passed it around the fire, each taking a little swig as it came our way. Some men attempted to chat, but most people just sat with eyes blankly staring at the dancing flames of the fire. I wish I had more whisky. Getting massively drunk is something that sounds very appealing to me right now. Maybe it would drown all my problems away in its fermented liquid. I could feel warm again against this bitter wind that continues to pierce my flesh.
England is probably drowning his own worries with a bottle of rum. He always was a heavy drinker. Lucky bastard. He's probably living in the lap of luxury over at his camp. He never did like the dirt and grime of the outside world. It makes me sick. Here I am trying to make myself an equal to my men and he's towering above his own just like he towered above me for all those years. It's always haunting like an ever present shadow and I just can't shake it off.
I don't know how much more I can take.

Alfred F. Jones
The United States of America.

December 26th, 1777
Princeton, New Jersey
British Encampment

I am much too hung over to write anything half decent this evening. I feel as though my head might split open and I'm struggling to keep my dinner in my stomach.
Merry Christmas my Arse.

Arthur Kirkland
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

January 3rd, 1778
Morristown, New Jersey
Washington's Encampment  

Every second I'm awake and conscious my stomach is gnawing with intense hunger. My stomach grumbles and growls for something I can't give it. The only relief I get is when I sleep, but even that doesn't last long for my hunger wakes me up again. Food is in extremely short supply even in the officer and general's cabins. I think that last time I ate was two days ago, but I can't remember. It feels like more. But then again when you're as hungry as that time always seems longer.
The men are becoming desperate. A saw a man take of his shoes and boil them down in the pot until they were soft and then he ate the leather as if it were jerky. My stomach turned. What was worse a few of them men even killed the regime's pet dog and ate it. I disappeared into the woods after seeing that and threw up. No matter how desperate I don't think I'd ever kill and eat a pet dog.
Even in the cold of winter more men are dying from the lack of food rather than the bitter winds and sickness. I saw the body of one of them men who starved to death. His cheeks were hollow and sunken in like craters. Every single last one of his ribs stuck out from under his sickly looking skin. He was as thin as a stick and if I wanted to I could've snapped him half as easily as if I was snapping a twig.
More men are dying and we are pleading with congress to send more provisions, but they think we're just speculating on the condition of them camp. Can't they just stop their stubbornness and listen! My men are dropping like flies and they're calling us liars when we say we have no food! A bunch of high class morons I call them.
We need relief and we need it soon or I'm afraid we won't live to spring once more.

Alfred F. Jones
The United States of America    

January 6th, 1778
Princeton, New Jersey
British Encampment

Well it's a New Year and the New Year is meant to bring hope and good cheer, right? Not here it does not. Despite most of the men having all the clothes they could need and even having shoes water from the snow has seeped into the cabins and walking in the chilling water has brought around frost bite to many men. Their feet are all blackened and oozing with blood filled blisters; their toes so stiff it seems as though they may break and shatter with the slightest touch.
The regime has doctors, but there is only so much they can do for a victim of frost bite. A few of the cases have become so severe that the doctors have preform amputations. I can think of no fate worse than facing an amputation. We have nothing to numb the pain besides alcohol. Wooden blocks are placed in the patient's mouths to keep them from biting through their tongues.
Even though the infirmary is a long ways away from where I reside I can still hear the screams of the men as the saw pierces their flesh. It sickens me. My stomach twists and turns and my blood curdles in my veins. I try to remain composed during it, but the past few times I haven't been able to bear it. I take cover in my bed pulling the sheets over my head and pressing my pillow to my ears. I bite my lower lip and resist the urge to make noise at the sound.
I can't stand it. I may not be so bold as to put myself as an equal to my men, I may not sleep in the cramped, damp cabins with them, I may not endure the cold and lack of food with them, but that does not mean I do not care for them. They are still my men, my people and my care for them runs deep. America always said I towered above my men instead of being on par with them and it's true I do put myself above them, but that doesn't make me think of them as nothing more than lowly rats.
They are fighting so that my country may prevail over this nonsense and for that I could never be more grateful.

Arthur Kirkland
The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland  

January 13th, 1778
Morristown, New Jersey
Washington's Encampment
  
At last, at last! Relief has been brought to our dreary winter camp! Sick of our constant nagging congress finally sent a representative to inspect our camp and see what we were fussing over so much. Once he saw the men and the condition of the camp he practically fell over his own feet in his haste to make it back to congress and tell them just how we had been telling the truth all along.
The men's spirits have returned and although winter still has a while to be over just knowing that rations are finally being brought has made them stand and cheer. Everyone is smiling and fantasizing about how wonderful it will be to have our bellies full again, to have shoes on their feet, and to have blankets on their cots.
I cannot express how grateful I am for these men. Despite the hardships and the trouble they have all stayed strong through the rough patches and now they shall be rewarded. The stayed so that freedom can prevail, so that we can finally break free from Britain's tyranny. I have confidence in these men. I have confidence in my country. I have complete and total confidence that we shall prevail and freedom shall ring from every hillside!
We shall prevail.

Alfred F. Jones
The United States of America
For the winter of the :iconrevolutionaryhetalia: group.
I recently watched a documentary about winter in Morristown New Jersey during the revolution and I even went to visit there recently (I only live like 45 minutes away from Morristown) and I got to see Washington's Head Quarters and the actual cabins that the soldiers stayed in during the winter of 1777. It was neat (I love history :heart:)

So I wanted to do revolutionary war diaries, but I wanted to include both sides so I alternated between Alfred's entries and Arthur entries just to mix it up a bit.

I hope you like it! Thanks <3
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:iconkyofan111:
Kyofan111 Featured By Owner Jul 29, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
duuuuuuddde......thats deep man...
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:iconakanesarumara:
akanesarumara Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2011  Student Writer
I love the scenario, the contrasts, and everything about it *.*
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:iconjay1892:
jay1892 Featured By Owner Jan 6, 2011  Student
Thank you~
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:iconakanesarumara:
akanesarumara Featured By Owner Jan 6, 2011  Student Writer
You're welcome^^
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:iconaprodite:
Aprodite Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2011
This is fabulous! I love the letter writing/ journal scenario. It is good to hear from boths sides, rather than just one on the Revolutionary war, and I enjoyed this! Keep up the awesome work. :)
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:iconjay1892:
jay1892 Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2011  Student
thanks so much! :)
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:icondarkmoonsigel:
DarkmoonSigel Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2011
Awesome! I love historical fanfictions!
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:iconjay1892:
jay1892 Featured By Owner Jan 5, 2011  Student
thank you :)
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