Robert Conroy - 1920 - America's Great War

He still had fifteen hundred men, but they weren’t the same fifteen hundred he’d begun the siege with. Most were replacements and, as before, a whole lot weren’t even from Texas. There was some gratification in the fact that men from other states were willing to come and defend Texas. Or maybe they were defending the U.S. and not Texas, he thought, and decided it didn’t much matter.

So many had been killed or wounded that he’d lost track. Against him were two Mexican divisions, maybe twelve thousand men, and they were totally pissed. They’d hoped to be in and through San Antonio a couple of weeks ago and his defense of the city had gutted those plans. If they overran his position he doubted they’d be in any mood to take prisoners. Well, fuck’em, he thought. He didn’t much feel like surrendering and becoming a prisoner. His defenses were deep and good and protected by miles of barbed wire. If the Mexicans did make it through, maybe there wouldn’t be all that many of them left…Sure. There’d be plenty of them left. What made his situation worse was that his men were spread too thin.

Of course he wasn’t the only Texan general fighting the Mexicans. It just seemed that way since almost all their attacks were at the area he commanded. He lit another of his dwindling supply of Lucky Strikes and took a deep breath. The tobacco smoke served to hide the stench of the battlefield. Both sides had stopped removing the dead and the wounded, and the ground before him was littered with bodies that had bloated and begun to rot. He never believed anything could smell that bad. One of his boys had laughed and said the stench was so bad because of all the spicy food the Mexicans ate. At least the wounded had stopped their moaning and screaming. If the Mexicans had asked for a truce to remove them he would have denied it. Niceties were down the toilet. This was a war to the death.

A rumbling noise behind him said that the trains were still running, which was good. That meant more replacements, even if they were poorly armed and barely trained farm boys or clerks from the cities. As a result, too many new guys died in the first skirmish.

He heard people moving quietly behind him, or at least they were trying to be quiet. He turned and saw a file of men coming towards him. What looked like an officer in a pie tin helmet detached himself and walked up to Tovey, staying in a crouch. Smart man. The Mexicans had snipers, too.

“You General Tovey?”

“Yeah, who wants to know?”

The officer grinned, and Tovey saw stars on his collar. “Tovey, I’m Major General John Lejeune, U.S. Marine Corps, and now commanding the Twelfth Infantry Division. If you don’t mind, I’ve got an advance party of about four thousand Marines who’d just love to join your little party. The rest of the division, along with some other fine young men, will be along shortly after they complete an assignment I’ve given them.”

Tovey nodded mutely. He was afraid he was going to cry. He watched as long columns of grim-faced Marines filled in the far too many open spaces in his trenches. There was soft and easy banter between his men and the newcomers, especially when the old defenders saw the machine guns and mortars the Marines had brought.

For the first time in a long time, Tovey eagerly awaited the dawn.

“I will not go with the refugees,” Kirsten said firmly. “When there are no more refugees, that’ll mean the battle’s right around the corner and then I will volunteer for hospital work. They will need all the help they can get.”

Luke and Kirsten were walking along the waterfront after taking a cable car ride just for the sheer pleasure of it. It was early evening and the sky was clear, and there was a hint of spring in the otherwise cold air. It was so nice they could even ignore the omnipresent dark spots far out in the ocean that were the blockading German warships.

Luke was perplexed by Kirsten’s reluctance to even consider leaving for safer places. “Have you ever seen the blood in a battlefield hospital? Do you really think you can handle it?” He immediately realized it was the wrong thing to say as she glared at him.

“Have you ever gelded a bull?” she snapped.

“Not recently.”

Kirsten laughed. “I haven’t either, but I’ve seen it done often enough. And no, I’m not giving you a choice, I’m staying. Even if you pick me up and put me on a train, I’ll find a way to get off and come back. As long as you are here, Luke Martel, then I will be too.”

Luke felt a surge of pride and affection. Yeah, he wanted her to stay. He never wanted her to leave. After thinking he’d lost her in the train attack, sending her away was the last thing he wanted to do. Still, he wanted her safe and he was torn by the dilemma. Letting her make the decision wasn’t just the easy way out for him. She had every right to do as she wished, not as he wished. Okay, he thought, she would stay.

“Luke, I was married at eighteen and widowed at twenty-three. I never thought I’d get over the loss. I wasn’t really certain I even wanted to.

“I realize now I was quite content living my life and feeling sorry for myself. Then came the Germans who destroyed my home, my cousins, and every tangible object I had to remember him by, except for the wedding ring, of course. And some money,” she added with a smile.

“He was very prudent and put some money aside in the form of a life-insurance policy. When he died, I collected ten thousand dollars. I used the money to pay off some debts and saved the rest. I’m not rich, but I’ll get by.”

“Don’t worry,” Luke said wryly. “I’m not after your money. I’ve managed to save a little myself.”

“On a soldier’s pay?” she said, incredulously.

“And the ability to play a really good game of poker.”

Kirsten laughed. “Well, I guess there are savings plans and there are savings plans. But can you see why I’m reluctant to commit? Right now, Elise and Josh are making like almost bunnies back in the apartment. I think it’s incredible that she won’t let him go all the way with her when they both want it so much.”

“She trying to make him marry her?”

“Why, of course.”

“I guess that was a silly question. Fortunately, we’re both adults and unless your marriage was a sham, neither one of us is a foolish virgin.”

Kirsten blushed slightly. “We loved each other in every way imaginable.”

Now it was Luke’s turn to blush. “I just hope you can consider me as part of your future.”

She squeezed his hand. “If I didn’t think so, I would be on the next train to Seattle.”

She pulled him to her and kissed him on the lips and the hell with what anybody thought. There was a war out there and living for tomorrow might be living for a fantasy. Luke returned the kiss and pressed her body against his.

She looked up and saw him laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking we should go back to your apartment and throw those young puppies out.”

The crown prince, the man who someday would be Kaiser Wilhelm III, gestured to a chair. Major General Oskar von Hutier did as directed and sat stiffly in the presence of his commanding officer and future kaiser. He thought he knew why he’d been summoned to the prince’s headquarters, but would not even think of broaching the subject himself. It was far too sensitive.

But the prince smiled warmly and dove right in. “General von Seekt is being promoted to a staff position back in Berlin where I am certain his experiences as a field commander here will enable him to excel. He will leave immediately and you will take over his corps, which, of course, represents the left wing of my army.”