text: [Themes: edutainment, humor, serious, war, historical]
  
  You have been marching for days and food supplies from your home of Airgead Muileann are depleting and spoiling. Your small group of forty or more men are weary and hungry. You even caught Donald MacLean eating grass. Your hope is that you can rally with Charlie soon and he will have food. Your men's once beautiful and bright tartans are now covered in dirt. They haven't had a good wash in days, same with the horses. You are walking along Loch Ness, but you don't have time for baths and the men always sleep where they fall at night. You send out foragers before night fall but all they ever bring back is a handful of onions and edible berries. When you had just left home you found and shot a buck, but that meat didn't last. You are riding Wildfire, named for her reddish-brown coat. Your son rides Rain, a dark grey male. Lord John the Impolite sits astride Ebony, a black horse, and finally is Lord Bergh who is mounted on Buck, a tall light brown male. You occasionally swat away an annoying fly, but they keep coming back.
  
  You know your men are tired, you can see them dragging their feet. If you had more horses you'd mount all your men, but alas, Airgead Muileann is a small and very poor place. You have seven year olds taking complete control of your stable's care. You have eleven year olds swinging axes and felling trees in the nearby forests. With the war preparations and all that, you need all the help you can get. You are on Scotland's side, Charlie's side. You know John doesn't support Charlie's cause. It took a lot of bickering and convincing to get him to go. He had to go, or else be called a coward and a woman. You are still not sure whether he will send his men into battle, though. You don't even have much faith in Charlie. He was born in Italy. John calls him a 'damned Italian'. Charlie even had to ask the chiefs who supported him about the strange Highland dress, meaning the knee socks, kilts, and sporrans.
  
  [Author's Note: This is a serious story about Culloden Moor, April 16, 1746. Look it up. You are Carhart MacLean X and you lead a small force of about forty or more men. The MacLeans ended up unlucky enough to take a big beating. You are, of course, on Scotland's side against the English.]
  
  > April 15, 1746-Some Shared Scotch
  You and your men finally arrive in Charlie's camp only to find it full of disease and dirt and hungry men. You can only watch as the other Highlanders practically maul your men and beg for food. The paths in between tents is full of human excrement and horse dung. It is as if the whole camp is just slowly dying. You and your men set up camp but you are still very uncomfortable about the camp's condition. Night falls quickly and you meet Charlie. He is yelling at one of his officers. "Oh, sorry." He said when he saw Carhart. "These fools think we should fight at Nairn, where the Highlanders will be better suited." Charlie said in a sarcastic tone. "I agree with them, actually." You say. Nairn is hilly. Culloden Moor is flat where the British can use their guns and artillery to good use. "You all have a mind to betray me!" Charlie shouts and leaves. He returns when he calms down and one of the chieftains, a MacFie, you think, presents a bottle of scotch. Charlie then presents some French wine, but you avoid it. Scotch is more to your tastes.
  
  > April 15, 1746-1 Glass of Scotch
  You only have one glass of scotch to make sure you are able to fight in the morning. And then Charlie calls for the night attack. It was the biggest disaster you have ever seen. The Highlanders spent most the night stumbling around in the dark until they finally returned to the camp and slept. This tired out the warriors so some of them couldn't fight. You sleep well in your tent. It is cold so you pile five blankets on you and you fall sleep quickly. You have pleasant dreams of a free Scotland and no more bickering with England. You dream of the good old days where you could go out and rob a neighbor with no consequences. The way Scotland should be. You dream of your wife and your kids, and remember you still have the rose from your daughter in your sporran. She is a lovely little girl. She loves flowers and is always gardening with your wife, Marilyn. Your daughter is named Rene. Your older daughter is called Allison. She married just last week. At least you got to be there for her. She married a wealthy MacLeod whom are your allies. Then there is your son. You foolish, stupid, arrogant, son. He is stupid for coming with you. To war. Does the fool not know what actually goes on in war? People die and people kill. Nothing else. You act tough towards your son but you love him more than anything.
  
  > April 16, 1746-Stay in Bed
  You don't hear the enemy so you stay in bed for just a little while longer.......
  
  You never wake up. When the British reached your location a dragoon simply shot you in the head. Nothing else to it. You damn lazy coward. Without you, your son took control, to the disappointment of Bergh and John. John held back his few men while Bergh didn't listen to your son and charged later, after your son and almost his entire force had been wiped out. At least you can be with your son now in heaven. Was a few more hours of sleep worth death? No. You should have left your tent and fought like a man.