Excerpt: 'Valley Forge' by Newt Gingrich and William R. Forstchen

Nov. 9, 2010 — -- Newt Gingrich, the former speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, has partnered with William R. Forstchen to write "Valley Forge: George Washington and the Crucible of Victory."

The book is a novelized account of a key moment in American history, and is the sequel to "To Try Men's Souls: A Novel of George Washington and the Fight for American Freedom."

Read an excerpt of the book below, and then head to the "GMA" Library to find more good reads.

PROLOGUE

NEAR PAOLI, PA 10PM, SEPTEMBER 20, 1777

(BATTLE OF PAOLI)

"Fix bayonets!"

The order was whispered hoarsely. Lieutenant Allen van Dorn, a loyalist from Trenton, of the rebellious colony of New Jersey, was in a column of more than a thousand British light infantry, arrayed in a formation of company front by column. He could hear the order echoing softly behind him, followed by the cold chilling sound of long bayonets pulled from scabbards, then locked on to the muzzles of Brown Bess muskets.

He caught a glimpse of General Charles Grey as the blanket of clouds, concealing the moon, parted for a moment. Tall, slender, and supremely fit, Grey's presence was sensed - even in the cover of darkness. His whispered words carried self confidence and command. The battle plan was his. This fight would be his, and Allen sensed that this man reveled in the moment.

Allen, serving as one of the scouts for the attack, observed Grey from a respectful distance. With soldierly ardor, the general addressed the knot of officers surrounding him.

"I want every man checked yet again," Grey hissed sharply. "Flints are to be removed from all weapons except officer's side arms. If any enlisted man disobeys and fires his weapon I will personally flog him. If any of you discharge your pistols before the attack is well joined, by God I will not only flog you, I will see you broken from the ranks and sent back to England in disgrace.

"Do we understand each other?"

There was a muffled chorus of assents.

"Rejoin your commands and await the order to advance. Once this column begins to move, guide on the unit in front of you. Keep the formation tight. Do not lose contact with the line in front of you. Once the attack is launched, fan your men out as we discussed earlier and then in with the bayonet and finish the bastards. No one is to escape. No one!"

"Rejoin your men."

The officers scattered and dispersed into the blackness. One of them tripped; the clattering of his sword sheath broke the unnerving stillness.

"Who is that?" Grey snarled.

There was a momentary pause.

"Captain Neilson, sir."

"You are relieved of command, sir. Stay to the rear. I will deal with you tomorrow."

There was no reply.

"Officers, drop your sword sheathes," Grey added.

The order had been given earlier, but some were reluctant to comply, the scabbards of some were inlaid with gold and worth a pretty penny. Neilson would pay far more in terms of shame.

Grey turned to face the men gathered around Allen

"You men know your orders."

Each man quickly whispered his orders, to deploy to the left of the flank, to the right, to move ahead and secure the several farmsteads in their path of advance. Finally, it was Allen.

"I am to stay with the prisoner, sir, to insure he does not try to escape."

"And if he gives false directions?"

Allen hesitated.

"I will kill him myself," came a whispered reply. It was muttered by a captain who had recently joined their ranks. John Andre, already gaining fame as a soldier, a poet, a duelist and above all else a gentleman with courage, who had just been released in exchange as a prisoner, was assigned to act as a liaison for Grey during the attack."I will see to it, sir," Allen interjected.

He looked over at the prisoner, a civilian blacksmith who had come to their camp earlier in the day to report that a division of rebel troops, under the command of Anthony Wayne, was encamped near Paoli Tavern. That was already known, but the blacksmith carried the additional information that the men were demoralized after the drubbing they had received at the Battle of Brandywine, fought nine days ago. He reported that many were grumbling about deserting, cursing Washington and Wayne. Drunkenness was rampant and his own personal grievance was that they had looted his barn, insulted his wife, and threatened to loot and burn his forge. He added that they were keeping poor watch; the men were drinking gin and corn liquor even while on picket duty.

That was enough to spur Grey to action.

The blacksmith, however, never expected the next turn of events. He was "volunteered" to lead this midnight attack column, and openly wept when ordered to do so, crying that he was only a civilian, had done his duty to the Crown and should be let go.

The burly man was trembling, stifling back sobs as the soldiers around him prepared to go forward.

Allen went up to his side.

"You heard the general," he whispered.

"Why? I did my duty."

"Listen to me," Allen whispered. "There is no escaping it now. You are in this to the end. Once the fighting starts I will let you go, but if you try to bolt my orders are to run you through."

He hesitated, looking over his shoulder at Captain Andre.

"And if I don't, he will."

"You're not one of them," the blacksmith whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"You sound like you're from Jersey."

Allen did not reply for a moment. The man had a good ear for accents and guessed right.

"Yes. Trenton."

"Why are you with them?"

"I could ask why are you with us," Allen snapped.

"I was only doing my duty. I am not a soldier, though."

"Well, I am."

"If my neighbors see me with you tonight, they'll burn me out."

"Not if we win," Allen replied coldly, knowing it to be true.

With the great battle at Brandywine the week before, and the utter rout of the rebel army, political feelings in the countryside around Philadelphia were in upheaval. More than a few were already Loyalists, and in the days before the fight as some of the undisciplined rabble serving with Washington took to foraging for food, feelings had shifted even more. After the victory, many were now hanging the Union Jack in front of their homes. For Allen, it was a source of intense inner confusion. He had joined the Loyalist cause a year ago, after his brothers Jonathan and James had run off to join the rebels, when the war was being fought up around New York.