The Whitmoor University pool had chunks of ice in it. It should being February before dawn. Students dressed in clothing barely adequate for the weather, as dictated by the assignment. They huddled together for warmth. Alex strode forth in white wig and tricorn hat.
He signaled the students to move.
Groups of five students each hoisted a rowboat, ten in all, and proceeded to place them in the water. Students on the pool’s steps bit back curses about the cold as they held the boats steady for boarding.
Alex took the lead in the largest boat. When all were loaded, he gave the order to begin the crossing.
“Now, remember,” Alex kept his voice low-pitched but with enough projection to reach the other boats, “Washington’s soldiers had to do this crossing as well, and to keep quiet in case of patrols on the other side. We’ll need to keep quiet to prevent campus security from catching us. Now, the Delaware River is roughly five trips across the pool. And stroke.”