"Again. Fire!"

The targets were dummies made of hay and old clothing that was formerly worn by the men of the 1st Marine Regiment. When he gave the command, a few dozen muskets roared in reply. Some of the shots struck the practice targets that were set in front of them, the impact of the musket balls rocking the dummies. However, many of the targets remained untouched and were only battered due to the previous group's practice.

Colonel Kim wasn't disappointed, but he frowned and looked at the men on the firing range, "All those targets that are still "alive" are Redcoats that will be able to fire back at you and kill you. Your muskets are not perfectly accurate, but make sure to stabilize your aim and aim at the torso of the targets. Getting shot is not exactly a pleasant experience, so even if your targets aren't dead, they'll be laying on the ground in pain. Reload with due haste, and prepare to fire again."

The group was the last company assigned to the firing range for the day. The other companies were exercising and training under their new officers to improve their group unity. In the past few days, Colonel Kim sorted the 300 men under his command into categories that were similar to that of the modern military structure. He separated the 300 into 3 battalions, 6 companies, and 30 platoons, with each of the groups having a number significantly less than that of the battalions, companies, and platoons during his time. Regardless, it allowed the regiment to have an organized hierarchy that helped with assigning duties and training. The 3 battalions were led by recently promoted Lieutenant Colonel Warren, Major McClary, and Lieutenant Colonel Daniel White, a militiaman that was formally part of the Massachusetts militia. Under them were a number of officers and NCOs that were ranked by their performance in training and their abilities based on what Colonel Kim saw in the past few days. The structure wasn't perfect, but it would make do for the time being.

The regiment was just outside the city of New York and was finishing up their daily training before night fell. They had arrived at the port city just hours prior and the men had been greeted by a number of enthusiastic locals that were aware of their victory on Bunker Hill. Apparently, messengers on horses were sent to Philadelphia to report on the Battle of Bunker Hill, so the Continental Congress was most likely aware of his existence. Due to this, he wasn't in a huge hurry and was taking his time to train the troops during the march. Even after just a week, many of the men were showing improvements and working better as a unit.

On the edges of the field where the 1st Marine Regiment was making their camp for the night, a number of curious and interested onlookers watched on. The civilians were a diverse group, consisting of men, women, and children. While the colonel was usually wary of people watching training, he was allowing it for the time being so the men worked harder due to the crowd. Eventually, he would need to be more cautious to avoid espionage, but for the time being, he was fine with it. A few New Yorkers requested his permission to join, and he allowed them, swelling his numbers to around 330. They were assigned to their platoons with little issue and began training with the regiment, though they lagged slightly behind the other marines.

"Come on lads! Do you think the Lobsters will wait for you to finish reloading and wait for you to fire at them before shooting at you?" Colonel Kim shouted, prompting several of the men to furiously fight with their muskets, "By the time you finish reloading, I would've fired four shots!"

It wasn't a fair comparison, as he could easily reload his rifle and fire continuously, but it worked well to motivate the men to finish readying themselves as they were still unaware of the full capabilities of his personal weapon. After twenty more seconds, the members of the 6th Company were all ready to fire once more.

"Remember, all Marines are Marksmen! I do not care if you want to be an artilleryman, a horseman, an officer, or a drummer! All Marines are Marksmen and all of you will train till you are the very best shots that the colonies have to offer! Fire!"

The field echoed with the sounds of muskets firing as the 7th Company unloaded their weapons. This time, there were more dummies struck by the musket balls than before, though several of them were still untouched. Colonel Kim grunted in approval and waved at them, "Right Shoulder Arms!"

There were a few ripples of inconsistencies amongst the 50 men standing, but the command was obeyed within two seconds. "While you practice like this at the firing range, remember that it will be much different in an actual battle. You will be moving constantly, firing behind cover, and firing at the enemy without hesitation. This is just to improve your aim. Later on, when you manage to actually hit all the targets, you will learn to train in a "combat environment." Otherwise, splendid work 6th Company. Company officer, what is your company's evening schedule for today?"

"Sir!" An African American man adorning a gold bar on the side of his uniform stepped up to the front. He saluted the colonel and then turned to his men, "We are assigned to kitchen duties for dinner and then education lessons immediately after. After that, we are to enjoy the rest of the evening before sleeping at 2200 hours."

Colonel Kim gave a respectful nod to First Lieutenant Poor, "Very good, lieutenant. 6th Company, you are dismissed."

"Oorah!" The members of the 6th Company jogged after their officer and moved towards the "kitchen" parts of the camp.

His decision to make Salem Poor an officer was... controversial at first. Thankfully, the man was literate and a fast learner, so despite some grumblings between the men, the members of the 6th Company accepted the man as their leader. The Asian officer was harsh on some of the more vocal members, so even if there were any remaining dissidents in the group, they kept silent and followed the lieutenant's commands.

"He's a good lad, even if he's a Negro," A voice rang out from behind. General Putnam was also wearing a Marines uniform, despite not being an official member of the regiment. It was mainly for aesthetics, as the man had taken a liking to the clean and professional uniforms that were unlike the colonial uniforms. Colonel Kim didn't mind and thought the uniform suited the man. "I mean no offense, Colonel Kim. I know how you feel about working with Negros and the likes, especially since you are not a white man yourself. But I never imagined a Negro would ever be able to become an officer, let alone a professional soldier."

"No offense taken, general," Colonel Kim assured the man. "I do not believe the color of someone's skin should determine their worth. In fact, I would say that the most dangerous and best soldiers would be slaves fighting for their freedom, for they would fight with their freedom on the line. Nobody should dismiss non-whites simply because they are "inferior." If you let them prove their worth, they will not fail you. Lieutenant Poor has shown to be more than capable of his duties, he simply needed a chance, sir."

General Putnam took off his hat and inspect it, "I am beginning to agree with you, colonel. It'll take some time, but eventually, I'll come around. Now if you'll excuse me, I want to see what the lieutenant and his men are preparing for dinner."

Colonel Kim let out a hearty laugh, "By all means sir. I am curious about that myself."

Before he or the general could make their trek towards the kitchen, a guard that was stationed on the perimeters of the camp ran up to him and saluted, "Sir! General Washington and his men are approaching, and I have received word that he wishes to speak with the leader of our regiment."

The colonel was surprised but recalled that Washington went through New York before marching towards Boston to lead the Siege of Boston in the other history. He thought that Washington would stay put in Philadelphia or begin gathering men elsewhere since there was no siege up in Boston at the time, but his assumption was wrong. "Inform the men to arm and ready themselves so we can impressively welcome an important guest coming to our camp."

"Yes, sir!"

After the guard dashed away to camp, General Putnam smiled at Colonel Kim, "It looks like our first president has arrived."

"Let's hope that he comes in peace, for the last thing I want to do is fire on the man that became America's Father in the other history," Colonel Kim muttered as he straightened his uniform and walked to the entrance of the camp.

Despite the suddenness of the situation, the marines gathered themselves quickly at the word of General Washington's arrival. Within a span of several minutes, the entire regiment, including General Putnam, was lined up neatly near the gates, splitting into two groups to greet the leader of the Continental Army. Colonel Kim himself was standing in front of the entrance, silently staring at the Father of the United States as he approached.

George Washington looked similar to the portraits the colonel saw in his history books. He was tall and solidly built, and he rode his horse gracefully in front of hundreds of shuffling soldiers. At the colonel's command, 19 muskets fired blanks into the air to welcome the man's arrival. Upon seeing the only Asian man amongst the marines, the general beckoned his horse forward and stopped in front of the colonel, "Colonel Kim, a pleasure to meet you. I have heard of your heroics at Bunker Hill and I am here on the request of the Continental Congress to escort you and your men back to Philadelphia."

Colonel Kim nearly stuttered before answering, being awed by the man's presence, "Thank you, General Washington, the pleasure is all mine. Please, I insist that you stay in our camps for the night and enjoy some dinner. The sun is setting and I'm sure some rest and food will ensure the men are ready for tomorrow's march."

"Then I thank you for your hospitality, colonel." General Washington motioned for his men to carry on and the few hundred members of the Continental Army walked in between the lines of marines. The looks of awe and envy were present on the faces of all the arriving soldiers as they looked at the still men by the entrance. The Marines remained stoic and unmoving, their muskets held at port arms as their fellow patriots walked by.

"Your men seem certainly professional and disciplined, colonel. I can see why you managed to pull off a victory at Bunker Hill despite the odds." General Washington commented as he moved alongside Colonel Kim into the camps.

"My regiment was not formed officially until after the battle, sir. But they have been training and working tirelessly for the past several days. I am proud to be their commanding officer"

The leader of the Continental Army slowly nodded and inspected the marines, "Are all their supplies and uniforms paid by yourself, colonel?"

The colonel had to fight to keep down a grin as he answered, "Yes, I am a... fairly wealthy man with connections. May I suggest that we retire to my tent for the time being as dinner is prepared? There are some things that I need to discuss with you in private."

On their way to his personal tent, Colonel Kim invited General Putnam to join him for "the talk." Upon entering, Colonel Kim took in a deep breath and spoke, "My name is Colonel Samuel Kim, sir. And I am from the future."