Is this the reception given to men who have endured sufferings and privations unutterable

From the excellent Perilous Fight by Stephen Budiansky, an account of the naval aspects of the War of 1812. Page 354.

Two days before, tensions had risen alarmingly when a dispute over the bread ration led to a stampede of prisoners out of all the barracks; they burst open the iron gates into the market square, and an alarm bell rang as soldiers from Princetown rushed to join the guards, who were now threatening to fire on the prisoners if they did not disperse. “Fire away!” the prisoners taunted back. Again an uneasy peace was restored.3 On the evening of the sixth the inevitable explosion occurred. Again some trivial incident was the trigger—a ball kicked into an adjoining yard by the prisoners, who then tried to retrieve it—but at around five o’clock in the afternoon the alarm bell rang, the guards turned out on the parapets, and before the prisoners could get to their barracks they began firing. Some of the prisoners later claimed that Shortland had engineered the entire episode, others that he was in the midst of the melee, raving drunk, shouting at the troops to fire, but in the chaos the truth would never be known for sure. Seven Americans were killed and thirty-one wounded.

The incident finally shocked the British and American bureaucracies into action. Much of the delay in releasing the prisoners was due to the British government’s insistence that each side should supply the ships to return its own prisoners, which obviously was to Britain’s advantage given the imbalance in numbers. Now the British agreed to get the prisoners home as quickly as possible and work out the costs later. All Americans able to provide for themselves were released at once. Every day a contingent of freed prisoners could be seen on the road to Plymouth, marching with banners and flags inscribed “Remember the Sixth of April, 1815,” “Revenge Our Murdered Countrymen!” “Dartmoor Massacre, 1815,” and “Free Trade and Sailors Rights.”

More than one group of returning American sailors commandeered the ships taking them home when the captain tried to sail to a port far from where most of their homes were, redirecting the ships from Norfolk to New York or other ports.6 Most arrived home without money and barely with clothes. One recalled the “deep, burning indignation” he and the two or three hundred of his fellow released prisoners felt upon arriving in Boston and, after appealing for help from the town’s authorities, were given a dollar each and a certificate reading:

This is to certify that ____________, having been a prisoner-of-war, has returned to this country destitute, and is anxious to get home to his family. We therefore recommend him to those upon whom he may call for assistance while on his journey.

“Is this the reception given to men who have endured sufferings and privations unutterable,” the man indignantly observed, “who have fought their country’s battles, defended the fire-sides which these functionaries now enjoy in peace and security?” He scornfully tore up what he called the “begging-ticket” he had been offered and found his way home as he could, arriving there feeling “like Rip Van Winkle” awakened from his long and troubled sleep.

In reading histories of the Revolution and the War of 1812, but especially the Revolution, I am always astonished at how men't terms of enlistment might expire 1-2-300 miles from home. They simply walked back from the war.