I’m going to tell you a little story.
In the far North of the country lived a man who was so poor that he didn’t have a quarter to his name. He did not have a car, and rode his bicycle everywhere he needed to go. He was very fond of flowers, and loved to see the daffodils and primroses blooming in the spring. He never felt lonely as he rode through the countryside in the spring and summer, but he did not like the wintertime at all.
One dark November evening as he was riding home past the old quarry (which folks said was haunted) he saw a squad of soldiers marching towards him. They were marching West, all in uniforms of dark twill, and balancing muskets on their shoulders. The squadron marched on past the man, who was so startled that he almost fell from his bicycle, but they made not a sound, and on that gloomy night in November, as the soldiers marched on into the distance, nothing could be heard.
The poor man was so shaken by his experience that it was only after he had gulped down his third glass of whiskey after he got home that his teeth stopped chattering, and he was able to sit down and think about where he was going to hide his next geocache.
You can validate your puzzle solution with certitude.