While moving around to his assigned position, Ethan was torn by conflicting emotions. He still blamed Governor Tryon for the unjustified execution of his brother, Henry, remembered vividly the disemboweling of Kindred, and, more bitterly, condemned Thomas Brown and his Rangers for murdering his son. At the same time, he was objective enough to realize that this should not be an indictment of all British officials or of the government in London. The deaths over which he grieved had been tragic blows, but he could not avoid comparing British barbarism with the summary hanging of British prisoners and what had happened to the innocent squaws and their babies at Big Elk’s camp. Both Whigs and Tories were guilty of atrocities, and he knew from recent conversations around campfires that his fellow militiamen had no intention of sparing the life of any Tory whom they might confront during the next few hours.

Being loyal citizens of Britain in Georgia had brought security and pleasure to him and his wife, and he was not especially motivated by a burning desire for “independence” or “liberty,” since he had always considered himself to be both free and independent. None of his individual experiences or discussions had been enough to prevail on him to make such a firm commitment to fight as a revolutionary, but his earlier desire for neutrality had become impossible, and he had no doubts that he had made the right decision. He had committed his life to what was an unpredictable fate, so that his death was in some ways a sacrifice already made. He felt that each additional day of life was a gift.

Other thoughts raced through his mind. Although he had been involved in a few skirmishes, Ethan was still uncertain about what his reaction might be to his own, personal danger and the impending assault on the British. He had leveled his rifle and fired at Redcoats at Cowpens and in the brief Augusta siege, but those had been relatively impersonal encounters, where he had been arrayed with other riflemen shooting into an unidentifiable group of the enemy. This next confrontation would be him against specific human targets, with little likelihood that both could survive. Although a desire to compensate for his cowardly abandoning of Kindred and to demonstrate personal courage in the face of danger were probably his preeminent motivations as he moved up the steep slope, he removed any personal guilt about killing other men by deliberately relegating all British troops to subhuman status, undeserving of mercy. He was confident that he could squeeze the trigger without hesitation or a feeling of guilt. In any case, there was no way he could back down now from what everyone expected to be a bloody battle with large casualties on both sides.