You loved your father, George Washington, to death…alas, staying at camp with him was one of the worst things ever. Being 12, you couldn’t exactly get out of helping out. The ladies in camp asked you to do a lot..you knew they needed all the help they could get. You were carrying a really heavy bucket of water across camp. The ladies needed it for new clothes washing water..but why assign you to that job? That was a mystery. You were of course struggling. Lafayette noticed this, and picked up the bucket for you. Looking up, You were met by the face of a curly haired Frenchman who had never said a word to you. “Where should I take this?” he asks with a smile, his French accent was strong. He didn’t strike you as the social type..he was more direct..analytical really. He was close with your father, your father had called him something like ‘tactically brilliant’