As I sat in the cold and damp shelter filled with other brave men, I thought about my Ma and my brothers, I wondered what they were doing right now. Suddenly, I heard men shouting in panic, I could just perceive what they were saying. Anxiously, l lifted myself off the ground. I grasped my spear as I wobbled onto the battlefield trembling. I clenched my fists, my legs were shaking, my heart felt like it was beating out of my chest and my head was spinning. After all, I was only sixteen! I couldn’t even describe the worry I felt while gripping my spear, I tried my best not to look like too much of a coward. One of our rivals approached, giving me a dirty stare, he was a tall bearded man with bulky arms and metal armour that shone in the Scottish sun. I charged towards him and he plunged straight over the bridge into the fast flowing river below. We formed a long line of men as our defence. The English outnumbered us greatly but we used our tactics and fought fiercely. A circle of English soldiers formed around me, it was intense, I paused before lifting my spear. The English soldiers’ eyes widened, showing that they were afraid. I didn’t hesitate and used my strength, forcing them to retreat with the support of my battalion. The stench of manure and perspiring horses burned my nostrils. The ground was marshy and squishy making it harder for our enemies to attack. Robert the Bruce, led the Scottish troops with pride and fought with aggression and determination, inspiring us to overpower our enemy. I sat back in the shelter where it all began, shivering in the unusually cold June air. It was over, we had defeated the English.