Robert Conroy - 1882 - Custer in Chains

She jumped to her feet, her face red with anger. “That’s absurd! The Cuban people are no more ready to govern themselves than I am to fly. What does Blaine have to say?”

“Our equally beloved secretary of state, the man who would like to succeed me as president, is just as appalled as you are. It seems that everybody wants a good, cheap victory, but nobody wants the cost of governing such a large territory for anything but a minimal length of time. Blaine has been talking with Cuban rebels and he is certain that they have been visiting congressmen and even giving speeches across the U.S. They have convinced a large number of people that the honorable thing to do would be to liberate them, train them, and then leave as quickly as possible.”

Libbie was flushed with anger. “What about Puerto Rico?”

Custer shrugged. “Nobody much cares. It’s small enough so I guess it can remain ours.”

“Wonderful!” she snarled and threw her hairbrush across the room. “If Congress has its way our great American overseas empire will consist of one small shitty island.”

* * *

Maria Vasquez stayed for a week at Luis’ shop. The first few days she spent eating everything in sight and also reveling in the fact that she was not in the concentration camp. When she apologized to Luis for eating so much of his food, he simply laughed at her and told her he knew how to get much more. After that she began to wonder just what was going to happen in the future.

“Don’t worry,” said Luis dismissively. “Everything is under control. In a few days you will be sent to Matanzas where you will help a rebel leader named Diego Valdez. He knows of you and that you are smart and cunning. Do you speak English, by the way?”

“A little. I suppose I could get by.”

“Even better, but try to improve on it.”

“But how will I get out of Havana? Aren’t the authorities looking for me?”

Luis laughed so hard she thought he’d have a heart attack. “No, Maria, they are not looking for you. In fact, the camps are so disorganized that they don’t know if you even exist. All they are saying is that a prostitute sneaked up on a guard and injured him severely before robbing him.”

Maria didn’t know if she was disappointed or thrilled. “You mean I didn’t kill the fat pig?”

“No, although rumor has it that he might yet die. They say he has a fractured skull. Even if he does recover, he might never be the same.”

“What about the other soldier, the one who was going to try to go second.” And he would have, she thought. She would have been in no position to cry out or otherwise try to stop them. It was a given that she would never have received any of the food that she’d been promised. She had taken a terrible chance and had won, at least for now.

Luis laughed again, displaying the fact that he had no teeth. “Both of them have been broken to the rank of private for their stupidity. If this Ramon leaves the hospital, he will likely be discharged so he can beg on the streets. The other man, Carlos, has already been stripped of what rank he had and been sent to the front lines at Matanzas. By the way, with the gate unguarded, a number of other Cubans also escaped. You did very well, Maria.”

Maria beamed. “Thank you, but when I get to Matanzas and this Diego Valdez, I would like to do better, much better.”

* * *

“Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink,” muttered Ryder. “Does anyone know who was in charge of planning this operation? If you do, let me know so I can kill him.”

The entire First Maryland was now on the hill known throughout the army as Mount Haney. The regiment was well dug in and vegetation had been cleared away to provide fields of fire. It was a good, strong point except for some serious shortages.

“We need water,” said Ryder. “We can’t drink that stinking piss that’s in the swamps and streams around us, and we sure as hell can’t drink the salt water in the bay. Some of the men have and they are sicker than dogs.”

At Ryder’s direction, the men had begun filtering what passed for fresh water through layers of cloth to purge it of the crawly critters that infested it. It was slow and tedious, but did seem to provide some relief.

“I just wonder why the locals don’t get sick?” asked Barnes. “Next time one of us sees a doctor, or a nurse like my sister, we should ask them, although I think it’s Darwinian.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe all the Cubans who are susceptible to getting sick and dying are already dead and the ones left are those naturally selected to survive? For some reason, the Cubans are immune to what makes us sick. Maybe it has something to do with skin color. Maybe God made black people immune because they are so primitive. Hell, maybe they haven’t fully evolved.”

Ryder shook his head. “Lord, what a lovely thought. That means we are condemned to a weeding out that’ll be of epic proportions. You may be saying that more of us will die from illness than fighting. Sadly, that’s not very far-fetched. If you read the casualty reports from the Civil War it happened a lot.”

Barnes lit a cigar and blew the smoke in the general direction of the foliage that surrounded them. He’d noticed that some of the bugs who seemed to be staring at them didn’t like it which was fine by him. “Along with water, we also need food, ammunition, and anything else that makes sense to send to an army that’s invading a foreign land.”

General Miles had been complaining loudly that all the first invasion fleet had brought was manpower and enough ammunition to fight one battle. They had enough tins of food to last a couple of more days, but, after that, the men would start going hungry. The only local crop was sugar cane and was totally useless as a food. The local Cubans had small farms and grew some vegetables, but not in sufficient quantity to feed the army, which had now grown to fifteen thousand souls. The locals had also prudently departed with their livestock which deprived the army of another source of food.

Nor had the army yet moved inland. General Miles was waiting for the arrival of a second transport fleet that would bring, along with an additional ten thousand men, some hoped for supplies.

Barnes had not agreed with that plan. “Instead of sitting here on our asses, we should be moving inland and planning to strike at the Spanish. Instead, we wait here for them to hit us.”

Ryder decided not to criticize his commanding officer in front of a subordinate even though he was seriously thinking of marrying said subordinate’s sister. His thoughts quickly went to his and Sarah’s last few hours together. They had not consummated their relationship, but their kissing and caressing had been incredibly torrid and passionate. It had been a most pleasant reminder that the lovely young widow was not a shy and innocent virgin.

Get back to reality, he commanded himself. There were good reasons for the army’s waiting. First, little more than half the army had arrived and, as already noted, it was terribly short of supplies. According to intelligence, the Spanish in Havana outnumbered them at least three to one and were entrenched in strong fortifications. It was felt that any American attacking force would be cut to shreds. Ryder was beginning to wonder if the entire invasion stood any chance of success. Some soldiers were already calling the expedition Custer’s Folly.

Gunfire could be heard in the distance. Both sides had patrols out along with the rebels who were aiding the Americans. Contact was inevitable and sometimes bloody.

Someone shouted that men were approaching. He could see them through his binoculars. They were Cuban rebels, about a dozen of them. As they got closer, word was given that they should be allowed to pass.