It's January 22nd, 1815. In an open field near what today is Mobile Alabama. Colonel

GC Russell sits on his horse, behind him 1500 American troops standing at attention.

On the ground below him is a row of six pine coffins. A wagon grinds to a halt near the

front of a large crowd of spectators who gather around the soldiers. As an armed guard

hops out of the wagon, Russell rides up to meet him. Colonel Russell served. At ease. Colonel

dismounts, impires into the back of the wagon where he sees six American prisoners. The

Colonel stiffens his spine and speaks. On the charge of mutiny, you men are here by sentence

to death. You have been brave in the field. Do know discredit to your country, the army

or yourselves by any unmanly fears now. Die like men.

From the back of the wagon, one of the soldiers, a man named Henry Lewis, musters the courage

to speak. Colonel, will you give me leave to say a few words? Go on son. I love my

country dearly. And would if I could serve it longer and better. I have fought bravely.

No, I have. And here I have a right to say. Do not wish to die this way. Lewis's voice

quivers for an instant, but he stifles the tears and soldiers on. I did not expect this.

But as I have been firm and battled, you shall see I will die as becomes a soldier.

The Colonel takes no pleasure in executing his own men. But orders are orders. He turns

to the guard. Line them up. Yes, Colonel.

The prisoners are taken from the wagon and led to the front of the crowd. Each of them

forced to kneel on top of one of the coffins. Guards cover their heads with white caps.

Dozens of armed soldiers step forward, lined up in front of the prisoners and take aim.

Colonel Russell calls out. Fire. Five of the prisoners fall dead instantly. But Henry

Lewis topples over, winsing and writhing in pain. The Colonel runs to his side.

...