Society played a massive role in the war between the British and the colonies. One of the most obvious reasons was the fact that the colonists had a strong faith and belief in the society that they lived in, and were loyal to the cause. They were willing to fight for their freedom and independence, unlike the British, who had nothing to believe in but their king, who was merely a figurehead. The British army was made up of proper soldiers, who were all well-trained. However, they also followed strict rules and abided by a code that disallowed them to use the tactics that the colonies did. The colonists used guerrilla tactics, which the British would never use. Much of what the colonists did was considered underhanded, and ‘playing dirty’ by the Brits. The colonies’ fighting force was primarily untrained militia, therefore more willing to fight against the so-called rules that the British had set. With the creation of the Sons of Liberty, the colonists brought more attention to themselves, with publicity stunts such as the Boston Tea Party. The use of propaganda strongly influenced people to believe and trust the colonists more readily than the Brits. The colonists had learned much from the First Nations, like guerrilla warfare, and it helped their society to adapt to America, while the British floundered, unused to it. The colonists took advantage of the fact that the French and Spanish, who had previously been wronged by the Brits, were willing to fight with them. Nearer to the end of the war, they had both the French and Spanish as allies, and overpowered the British.

Samuel dragged one dry, callused hand across his brow, leaving a smear of soil on the creased surface. His clothing felt stifling and warm, and even the thin shirt clung to his shirt, drenched with sweat. Heaving a sigh, he glanced at the horse straining against the plough. Its short-haired coat was wet, glistening in the sunlight that scorched them both and sucked all moisture from the air. He leaned heavily against the plough in front of him, the hard wood making it uncomfortable, but it was still better than having all of his weight on his sore legs. The handles of the plough had once been sheathed with small bits of leather, but now only the rough wood remained. Years of constant work had worn away the hide. Especially now that he had to provide for the militia, Samuel had to work even harder to feed his family as well. It wasn’t that he didn’t support the cause, but it seemed like the workload just kept increasing, and would never stop. The horse that was harnessed to the plough was exhausted as he was, its long neck curved in a weak arch as its lungs worked like a bellows. Its massive ribcage was heaving and straining, and the dull, glazed eyes that gazed outwards from a hollow face were plain with weariness. Samuel cast his own eyes up at the blue sky, scattered with hardly a single cloud, then had to flinch away from the too-bright sun. Not for the first time, and for what he knew wouldn't be the last, a set of questions ran through his tired mind. What were the reasons this burdening war had started? Why were they even winning, when the British were so strong? And what effects would this war leave on generations to come? Heaving a tough, rasping sigh, Samuel leaned back over the plough and forced his aching body back to work.