1/04/2007

Fort Necessity

O’Malley here and I am not dead yet. I recently shipped my mother off to a very nice state run institution for the elderly. Sure some of those fancy private institutions look nicer, but who really needs 3 squares a day. While I was throwing out all of her stuff, that wasn’t valuable, I came across some interesting items from my forefathers. Apparently newspaper ink runs in the blood, along with booze. One of my forefathers was apparently quite the newshound for “The Williamsburg Daily Gazette.” Following is one of the articles that I found that really caught my attention, enjoy!

From the Williamsburg Daily Gazette, July 6th 1755:

O’Malley here and ye have not yet been scalped. I am somewhere in the Pennsylvania wilderness following the exploits of a young Colonel by the name of George Washington.


I would not commit that name to memory, as I really don’t see much in this dull witted farm boy from the Virginia Colony.

We found ourselves, that muggy July morning, completely surrounded by the French and their savage allies as the good Colonel was to indecisive to move us out of this swamp he calls Fort Necessity.


The men are in good spirits as some lucky soul got his hands on the key to the supply cabin and was able to liberate a goodly quantity of Rum. Note to editor, sorry for the shaky handwriting, it’s very cold for a July. With the help of a young native girl I have found a good vantage point deep in the supply cabin. From here I should be able to take in all of the action while being instructed in some of the Local Customs.

The French boys seem to be intent on a frontal assault. Some of those damn funny Canadiens, eeehhh, managed to make it to the trench line when they were met with a canister round from one of our Guns. What was left of them was seen scurrying off North again shouting something about it being Hockey Night.


Then some of the Virginia boys gave a shout when they notice some natives skulking around in the woods. My little native girl noticed her husband amongst the bunch of them so I felt it prudent to further conceal ourselves so as not to alarm the poor man to her safety, or mine.

They broke from cover with some horrible whoops and caterwauling but our lads were up to the task of beating them back into the woods. They would try again at another wall, but they just don't seem to have the intestinal fortitude required for a frontal assault.




Meanwhile, those froggy bastards made a serious assault on several ramparts at once. It was hard work with the frog stickers and things were touch and go for a while.


Finally, the frogs were forced back from one wall. On the other wall they managed to force the gun crew off the gun but the regulars from South Carolina managed to push them back out of the defenses.

The main gun was forced out of its entrenchment by another furious charge but it was still intact and just the site of it kept the frogs from massing together enough troops to seriously threaten that flank. The Indians having had enough vanished back into the woods leaving the French to try and take the Fort on their own. Things were looking good but the shear number of French and the prospects of needing to fight their way out of hostile territory were too much for our young commander to take. So with our heads hung low we marched away from that little outpost vowing one day to return and avenge our fallen comrades. As always you can rely on me to bring you all the action Hot and ye olde Heavy.