Warriors of Loving

My Dearest Audrella,

I thank you for the cloves you had enclosed in your last missive. That permitted me great joy in ingesting the aromas of such spices. Now is the time where I must depart from happy feelings. The aggressors have shown themselves to be quite despicable in their deportment. Some of the Continental Army have shown themselves to be rather hostile, too. They don’t salute me as a colonel, the white men. They snicker and chortle every time I come into view. My men, however, salute me and say good morning or any other time of day and “Colonel Redd.” They can take my admonishments. They receive commands and carry out orders with the strictest discipline.

My love for you is what burns deep in my soul. Without this connection, I don’t think I could stand another bombardment from the Red Coats. There are few of us in this battle fighting for the Colonies. Some of our own people have shifted to the British. I know that it is in my own self-interest to stand and fight for this burgeoning land. I know that that freedom will come to the black man and woman. I know that this battle will help to secure our place in what is so treacherous.

I realize that you are going to be a year older by the time you get this letter. We are still to be married, even though you are five years my senior. It is like an abrasion across my mind. It takes every ounce of me to fight on through the anguish of not being in your presence. I know you worship me. I am just glad that you can recognize that we’re both supposed to enjoy this life. With constant bombardments coming from the other side and them occupying a number of our stations, it is difficult to even express all of the pain I’ve endured.

I, yet, hold you as my love. You have shown nothing but compassion for the way you have trusted me. As a black officer in this fight, it is less burdensome than the enlisted men, but the weight of war still falls on my shoulders. I am responsible for the Colored men of Rhode Island. In this battle, we’re tasked with devising a plan to fight off the Brits, no matter the circumstances. It is desperately cold in this New England winter. My hands must be held to candles in this space while I compose this letter. Munitions, clothing, and food must all pass through here, even if the latter is sometimes frozen solid or spoiled. I, still, know that you are still out there in the world. You’re out there giving me life.

When we finish this war, we will have beaten our enemy back and shown sufficient aim in our abilities to protect this land. Coming from the colony of Delaware, I know we both can exchange ideas and continue to fight our own battles. It is not promised that we should win this war, but we must contend with the enemy with every scrap of energy that we can summon up in our spirits. My Audrella, please know that you are my one and only woman. You are much more mature than I. You have been taught piano and know how to sell corsets. You don’t even have to do that. I’ve sent two dollars. It’s all I had saved up for you to be in good health.

I can hear rockets fire in the air and the commotion, those explosions of muskets blazing in the night. Of course I’m scared. But it is courage that pushes back all fear and engenders a sense of overcoming anything. My beloved, I only hope for the smell of your soaps on your body and the sound of your voice lilting out an operetta. We will have great success as I will return to my work as a teacher and you will continue with your business. The colonels and generals seem to be discussing pushing further into battle. They have in their minds the dedication to preserving this land. I don’t see how the British are going to deal with us. They’ve got bigger problems with France and Spain. Why trouble themselves with a second-rate collection of colonies? I laugh as I write this. I know the atmosphere is deadly serious, but there has to be a break from all the fighting and discontent, no?

Audrella, you must understand that when I return to you, I will be a changed man. War is a great deal of things which convey the soul of battle and the misunderstanding of opposing sides. I want you to know that I am confident that my men, all seven hundred and fifty five of them, have been well-trained and have focused on the mission of running these Red Coats back over the ocean. I wish you could see the look of determination like a thousand fireflies lighting up in their eyes. These men, mostly runaway slaves and some freedmen, fight with the same vigor and spirit as the white men. Sometimes more. There’s some Indians and Spaniards, too. They’re fighting the same war as we. My betrothed, I want you to understand the capacity of my yearning for you. It is harsh and bitter here, both the fighting and the atmosphere. Your love warms my mind.

I think some of the women have decided to fight. Though scant, some have picked up a firearm and actually thought of engaging in battle. Now, of course, most of them gather intelligence and provide services as nurses, but the fact remains: women are fighting, too. I cannot picture you, musket in hand ready to blow away the competition. I do, though, see us being warriors of loving. I can certify that it is with great distinction that I will be among the best men this land has ever produced. Though the white men may sneer at us for the most part, they’re not all bad. My superior officer is a gentleman who has committed to overseeing the 1st Rhode Island Regiment win alongside the other men.

My lovely, please take care and enjoy the money I sent. It is everything I had, so far. Live your life as you see fit. Bring into your world only things that are decent and proper. Live your life with great inclusion of your own thoughts and aspirations. Let the light of your bright mind shine all over Wilmington, Delaware. I will return to you and hold you in my arms. That I can guarantee.

With Profound Love,

Joseph