Come Back to Bed, Hessian Soldier

Prologue

Johann Rall relaxed on the brocaded settee in Abraham Hunt's drawing room, cradling his pipe in his palm.

It was not the finest drawing room he had ever enjoyed — it certainly did not compare to the rooms where General Leslie entertained the Hessian staff in London when the plans were made for their units to help quash the rebellion in North America, nor even General Grant's rented rooms in Boston when they arranged for the occupation of this outpost on the edge of the wilderness.

But still, this seat was a good deal more comfortable than the wooden benches in the barracks in town, and the house's high windows and thick walls kept out the winter winds far better than the drafty pile of stone and wood where his men slept.

Trenton offered few of the pleasures his men had enjoyed in New York City: a handful of taverns clustered along the river, but none of the bawdy houses and gambling dens offered on Manhattan Island.

They would surely grow restive if trapped in this outpost of civilization for very long; his officers maintained good discipline with regular drills and inspections, but that would begin to crack if this winter occupation dragged on into January.

Fortunately, the rebels were hunkered down in the wilderness across the Delaware, easy prey for the winds, disease, and despair.

In their few hurried engagements on the march to Trenton, Rall had observed very little enthusiasm and almost no discipline among the ragtag rabble who retreated into the forests and swamps at the first shots from the blue-coated Hessians.

It surely would be a miracle if they survived until spring; Rall expected to be back in England by summer, prepared for his next assignment: perhaps a turn on the fields of France, or a journey to the Empire's far-flung possessions in India.

Prince Frederick's coffers would fill up with British gold from the services the King bought from the Landgraviate, and not a little of that would flow to Rall's purse.

"Colonel Rall, sir," Hunt's maid called, poking her bonneted head into the drawing room. "You've a visitor, sir, a German lady."

Rall sighed and set his pipe on the table beside his chair.

What have they been up to now? he mused, shaking his head at the thought of the trouble the men could cause from their bivouac in town.

On previous engagements, he had to dip into the unit's cash reserves to cover the cost of chickens plundered from nearby farms, bottles of whisky pilfered from farmers' sheds, even the occasional young lady debauched and defiled (though surely not unwillingly — he knew full well the moral fiber of these barbaric colonials) by soldiers kept too long from the company of women.

He girded himself for battle as he followed the maid to the front door.

***

The woman at the door was slight of build, wrapped in a heavy black cloak with a dark woolen cap pulled over her head.

She seemed neither old nor young to Rall, but pretty enough in the rough-hewn way of the women in this wilderness.

In London or Paris, perhaps, no one would turn their head to notice her, but in America, where there was a much less varied selection, he supposed her pretty enough.

"Good morning, Colonel Rall," the woman said in German, "I am Anna Lotz, a widow on a farm east of town."

Rall gazed down at her, taking in the raven curls that snuck out from beneath her cap, her dark eyes, her upturned nose. Her accent was not like his men's — it was a bit softer, like his mother's, or what he recalled of it from before he joined his father in the Prince's regiment.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Frau Lotz," Rall said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. His men had marched in from the north of the town, and as far as he knew, had not made any forays to the eastern outskirts; it was unlikely they had caused trouble yet in that direction. "How may I assist you?"

"I wish merely to welcome you, sir, to our town," Anna said. "I am so happy to see my countrymen here, and not those imperious and unruly British soldiers who lay waste wherever they roam."

"Well, yes, my regiment has good discipline —"

"You are, if I'm not mistaken, from Stralsund?"

"Technically, I suppose; my mother was Pomeranian, but I grew up on the march with my father in Bavaria and Austria."

"You sound like your mother," Anna said, blessing him with a smile that brightened her face, which he noted now was much prettier than he had first believed. "I hear the North Sea in your voice."

"It has been many years since —"

"Also," Anna continued, reaching into a pocket in her cloak to retrieve a folded paper, "I come to request a favor."

And here it comes, Rall thought, scowling, the demands civilians make when they see an opportunity ...

"As I said," she continued, handing the paper to Rall, "we — my fellow widows, Sarah and Gretchen — we live east of the town on a small farm, three hens with no rooster, as it were.

And with winter coming, and so many of the men in the town scattered by this cruel war, we are at our wits' end for how we will survive the cold, bleak months ahead. "

Rall unfolded the paper; a map of the town was drawn on it, showing an "X" where Hunt's house sat, a path along a narrow creek past an orchard, and an "O" indicating "Anna Lotz’ Bauernhof."

"We would never think to ask this of the British, you understand," Anna said, "but when I saw that German soldiers were garrisoned here, I knew I would find gentlemen to come to our aid."

"And the aid you require —"

"Simple work, Colonel Rall," Anna said, "and compensated as generously as we are able. Chopping wood, hanging sashes, making our modest home fast for the winter."

"Frau Lotz, surely you are aware that we are at war —"

"I see no rebels in Trenton," Anna said with a laugh. "They've fled into the wilderness in fear, as well they should. The reputation of the Hessian soldiers marches well in advance of your majestic column."

"Well, Frau Lotz," Rall said, smiling at her words; the column of Hessian blue marching from victory at Long Island was indeed majestic. "It's true that we have set them scampering off with their tails between their legs."

"And so in that case, Colonel Rall," Anna continued, "you surely can spare a soldier or two to come to the aid of three widows."

Colonel Rall let out a sigh and tucked the rough map into his jacket.

"One soldier, Frau Lotz," he said. "I'll send him to you once our barracks are settled."