3The war didn't begin for me until after July 12th, 1812. The war itself had begun on the 12th of July, because that's when General Hull of the Americans invaded us. He and his army. But, in my eyes, the war didn't begin until many days after when our famous Sir Isaac Brock captured Hull at Detroit.
I was living in Montreal at the time with my parents and my Grandfather had entered his final resting place one week before.
The day I got the news that Hull had been captured, it was at school and I couldn't wait to get home to tell the news to my parents.
"Oy Simon!" Rick yelled to me from across the school yard after school was let out, "Simon Dillon! You wait for me!"
I sighed, a large grin plastered to my face, and halted in step so Rick could catch up.
"En garde Canadian scum!" Rick yelled playfully, grabbing a stick off the ground and thrusting it to me as a rapier.
"En garde yourself Hull!" I replied jovially, dropping to the ground and rolling to grab an opposing stick, "I, Isaac Brock, will take you down with one fatal swipe of my sword!"
He let his stick drop to the ground and pleaded to me, feigning tears. "Oh great hero! I can't beat you! I surrender! Your forces are too strong! Canada will be left in peace!"
"Hurrah!" I yelled, thrusting my stick into the air, "VICTORY!"
Rick laughed at me. "Joyous spirit! I salute thee!"
I laughed.
"Father!" I yelled when I got home.
"Peace Simon," Mother said to me, "Don't yell inside. Your Father is in the back."
"Did you hear Mother?" I asked, eyes sparkling with glee, "General Brock apprehended Hull! Isn't that neat?"
"Neat?" Mother replied. She put a hand on her hip and cocked her head to the side.
"YES!"
"You know that they're bringing them to La Chine?" Father asked, entering the kitchen.
"La Chine?" My eyes grew wider than they were before. "That's close to here isn't it?"
Father nodded, "Nine miles north." I opened my mouth to speak, but Father silenced me. "you know that your cousin William is one of the ones escorting them."
"Are you going down to see him?"
"No," Father replied sullenly, "I have to work."
"Can I-"
"No. I don't want you down there without the proper supervision."
"What if-"
"No."
"But how about-"
"Simon! Stop that."
"Yes sir."
"Go on kid," Mother said, "Rick wanted you to meet him at the lake today."
A sudden grin took possesion of my face and I nodded quickly, running out to see him.
"Hey Rick!" I said, seeing his dazed figure over on the dock, "You wanna go to see Brock bring in Hull over in La Chine?"
"That's far Simon," he replied, grinning at the thought of adventure, "What'd your dad say?"
"Said no."
"Sounds like an adventure."
"Uh-huh."
"Let's go."
The walk, all of nine miles, would have taken us the better part of six hours to do, so my feet were rather thankful that we ran into a carriage.
The driver slowed the horses and beckoned us.
"Oy lads!" he called to us, "Fancy a ride? It's might hot out here for too much exertion!"
Rick grinned widely and I nodded.
"Thank you sir!" I turned to Rick and made my claim over shotgun.
I climbed up next to the driver and Rick scooted into the carriage.
"So, where are ye headed?" he asked me, starting the horses into a fine trot.
"La Chine," I replied non-chalantly.
"Oh me too!" he cried, "I'se gots to deliver them there supplies to the great General Brock." He gestured in-back himself towards the wagon, "Great feelin' to 'elp out yer country lad."
I nodded. "Great luck meetin' you here sir," I stated, "Me an' you, we're all headed the same place."
"Gonna join up?" he asked.
Join? I was only 18 and you had to be 19. The thought did cross my mind a few (hundred) times, but never seriously. Although what an honor it would be to go and fight in the war. Mamma would be proud and it'd be glorious.
"No sir," I mumbled, "Only entertained the idea a few times."
"I'm sure you 'ave," he replied, a twinkle in his eye; at least the eye I could see.
We talked for a while about the war and I learned his name and business.
Roger Harland, as was his name, was very proud of his job which was to deliver provisions to the British-Canadian forces at the bases around the continent. He had a son (Mike, 20) and a wife named Camille who had passed away seven years previous of pneumonia.
I apologized about that, but he said that it's okay.
"She may be dead, but she'll live on in me heart," he said.
I thought that was really sweet and I hoped that someday I would get the chance to love somebody that much. Other than my mom.
I jumped off the seat and pulled the door to the carriage open, finding Rick half asleep.
"Hey Rick!" I cawed at him, "Wake up! We're here!"
The area, a bustle of activity, with red coats everywhere, I saw all of one Yank as he, clad in the sharp blue uniform, who was being pulled into the safety house. He was tall, just over six feet, with a shaggy moustache and a heavy-footed stride.
We weren't actually inside the barracks, just at the gate with Rodger and his delivery.
A fellow, 'Reeves' engraved on his nametag, walked up to us standing on the other side of the gate.
"What?" he said, bored and I suspect a tad annoyed.
"Deliverin' provisions sir," Rodger said. Reeves let him in, but stopped Rick and I before we could enter.
"State your business."
"Want to see General Hull sir," Rick stated, "Want to see our victory sir."
Reeves studied us. "No."
"No?"
"Only soldiers may enter. And provisions."
"Oh."
I thought about that for a second. Rodger had asked me if I was going to join. I'd thought about it a million and half times. I could be a hero. I could...
Rick cuffed me in the back of the head, snapping me out of my reveries.
"Yes," I said.
"Yes?" Rick and Reeves both looked befuddled.
"I'm joining up sir," I said, "I'm joining the army."