Napoleonic Wargame Club (NWC)

As the Prussian General’s words echo in the church, an elderly Negro man rises from a pew near the back, and gingerly makes his way toward the alter. He pauses for the briefest of moments to pat a senior Hanoverian officer, kneeling in the second pew, on the shoulder as he passes. His thoughts interrupted for the moment, the German soldier looks up to meet the gaze of the watery, old eyes containing so much wisdom and compassion. In that brief exchange, a bond is formed between the two men, that is sealed forever when the old Negro opens his mouth, and in the most beautiful, melancholy bass voice the German has ever heard, softly begins to sing:

Swing low, sweet chariot, comin’ for to carry me home. Swing low, sweet chariot, comin’ for to carry me home……

A tear forms in the corner of the veteran officer’s eye, and slowly rolls down his cheek until it gently falls and absorbs into the breast of his fine red coat which replaced the green, and the white he has worn before.