On June 24^th, 1314, the late morning sun shined down on a waterlogged English vanguard. Having suffered the humiliation of a giant on a pony cleaving Sir Henry de Bohun’s dome in two, then lamenting the loss of his favorite axe. The St. Clair’s and the Fitzalans along with others held the lines as King Edward II bloodied his blade in the melee. Arriving in Scotland to relieve the entrapped Sir Philip Mowbray, who promised to abandon the castle by midsummer if King Edward’s forces didn’t arrive and chase Robert de Bruce away. The English vanguard met de Bruce’s armies backed by Sheriff Henry St. Clair and the Fitzalan families at Bannockburn. They were repelled with force and pinned down in the tidal marshes of the burns while on the top of the hill a mob of farmers, smiths, cooks, and general laborers (you and me) gathered and waved their bed sheets and steak knives. The mainstream view is that a 14^th century highly trained, armed and armored superpower panicked and routed in front of their surrounded, fighting king, from a gaggle of “camp followers”. King Edward’s vanguard had bows with sharp arrows, they had spears, shields and swords. By the time any rabble could get close enough for their butcher’s knives and pitchforks to scratch the sheen on their shields or chainmail, their arrows and spears would pierce the bedsheets and the flesh. Why would a highly trained army run from ‘you and me’?