And then on that day was Massachusetts State Hero Samuel Whittemore...
Whittemore was in his fields when he spotted an approaching British relief brigade under Earl Percy, sent to assist the retreat. Whittemore loaded his musket and ambushed the British Grenadiers of the 47th Regiment of Foot from behind a nearby stone wall, killing one soldier. He then drew his dueling pistols, killed a second grenadier and mortally wounded a third. By the time Whittemore had fired his third shot, a British detachment had reached his position; Whittemore drew his sword and attacked.[7] He was subsequently shot in the face, bayoneted numerous times, and left for dead in a pool of blood. He was found by colonial forces trying to load his musket to resume the fight. He was taken to Dr. Cotton Tufts of Medford, who perceived no hope for his survival. However, Whittemore recovered and lived another 18 years until dying of natural causes at the age of 96.[2][9]
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Whittemore
Aw, you beat me to it. Whittemore is one of my favorite War Of Independence stories. In the first place, he was plowing his fields, which doesn’t sound impressive unless you recall he was either 78 or 80 at the time (his birth date is not entirely exact) and they didn’t have John Deere tractors. More important, he was a cranky old vet who just didn’t care. Don’t piss off cranky old vets is my advice.
Whitmore was one tough SOB.