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Burwell :
Benjamin Martin. I'm in no
mood for a lecture.
Martin : Where is your General Gates now?
Burwell : The last anyone saw, riding hard in
northeast, his staff a hundred yards behind, trying to
catch up.
Martin : So who's in
command?
Burwell : I am, I think.
Martin : What are my orders?
Burwell : We're a breath away from losing this war,
Benjamin. In the North, Washington is reeling from
Morristown. He's running and hiding from twelve thousand
Redcoats. In the South, Cornwallis has broken our back,
captured over five thousand of our troops when he took
Charles town.
Martin : And he destroyed the only army between him
and New York. So now there's nothing will stop him from
heading north to finish
off Washington.
Burwell : Unless we can keep Cornwallis in the South
until the French arrive. They've promised a fleet and
ten thousand troops.
Martin : When?
Burwell : Six months at the earliest.
Martin : You actually trust the French to keep their
word?
Delancey : Absolutement.
Burwell : Benjamin Martin, Major Jean DeLancey, French
Seventh Light Foot. He will help to train the militia.
Delancey : The hero of Fort Wilderness. Your
reputation precedes you.
Martin : You really expect to hold Cornwallis here
using just militia?
Burwell : Not me, you.
Martin : Harry, they're not soldiers, they're farmers.
They'd be better off
letting the British just march through.
Burwell : They'd be better off, but the cause
wouldn't.
Martin : How many men does Cornwallis have under his command?
Burwell : Eight thousand infantry. Around six hundred
cavalry. I'm giving you a field commission as a colonel.
Martin : Might I request, sir, that you transfer my
son, here, under my command?
Gabriel : Sir, no I...
Burwell : That's done.
Martin : Thank you.
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