Home of the Brave (40 page)

“I see that. You were
supposed to fetch me a splint.”

“I know. But this was too
good to pass up. You still smoke them cigars?”

“Yeah. But if you’re
plannin’ to light that fuse use a lucifer.” Tom found his box of
friction matches and handed it to Whipple.

“Wait here. I’ll be back in
a jiffy.” Whipple stood up, tossed the shell over the fence then
followed it. The moment he hit the ground he began drawing heavy
fire from the house again. After retrieving the shell, he dove into
a ditch.

“Captain Whipple?” the
surprised voice of Lieutenant O’Hara called from his
left.

“That’ll be me.”

“I thought you were dead,
sir.”

“Not yet, Lieutenant, but
I’m a-fixin’ to try again. You got enough men there to keep them
Mess-kins heads down for maybe ten or fifteen seconds?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, then. Get ‘em ready
and when I say to, throw whatever lead you got at the
house.”

“We’re ready, sir. Just give
us the word.”

“Okay. Stand by.” Whipple
struck a match, got up on his haunches and held the match near the
fuse. “Fire!”

As the Ranger’s muskets, and
those of other Americans who had heard the exchange, fired at the
house, Whipple lit the fuse, raced to the house and threw the shell
through an open window. The artillery round hit the wooden floor
and immediately exploded, blowing Mexican soldiers out of windows
on all three stories.

With a cheer, the Americans
that had been pinned down rushed the building.

“Are you okay, Captain,”
Lieutenant O’Hara asked, after the surviving Mexican soldiers had
been subdued.

Whipple was sitting with his
back to the wall of the ruined house with blood running from his
nose and his wounded cheeks. “Concussion just rung my bell is all.
I got a hell of a headache. Take command of the company. I have
some other business soon as my head stops a-spinnin’.”

“Where should I place the
men?”

“Anyplace comfortable and
away from the zócalo. It won’t be long before our howitzers start
to zero in on it and the Mess-kins surrender.”

~

While the howitzers were
busy pounding the plaza where the Mexican army was trapped, Josiah
Whipple and Thomas Van Buskirk were sitting outside the city wall
watching an ambulance and dead-cart moving through the battlefield
and along the hills.

“Oh. I got a note for y’
from yer mother.” Whipple gave the tattered envelope to
Thomas.

“I saw her in Matamoros. She
said you’d gone home.”

“‘
Changed my
mind.”

“Not smart.”

“So says the smart man
sittin’ right next to me.”

Thomas chuckled.

“How long you been here?”
Whipple asked.

“I arrived the day after
Matamoros fell.”

“‘
Thought you wasn’t gonna
get in this fight.”

Thomas shrugged. “Guilt
nagged me every day and kept me awake nights. Too much soldier in
my blood, I guess.”

“How’s everybody at the
ranch?”

“Good. Everybody was getting
worried about you.”

“How was Charlie Lagrange
doin’ without me?”

“Charlie’s very competent
and your men are so well trained that they don’t need any
direction.”

“That’s what I
figured.”

“I reckon Anna’s unhappy at
me.”

“If she is she’s hiding it.
I think she really only cares about Charlie being
happy.”

“That’s turned out to be a
lots better union than I would of reckoned.”

Tom nodded. “Yes.
Thankfully.”

“Any Indian
trouble?”

“Not with us. Our
laissez-faire agreement with Buffalo Hump is still holding but he
keeps stealing cattle and horses from the smaller spreads so sooner
or later there’ll have to be a reckoning.”

“The United States Army can
do that now.”

Thomas listened a moment.
“The bombardment’s slowing down. Negotiations for surrender must
have started.”

“I was just thinkin’ about
that. Takin’ and holdin’ over ten thousand prisoners with fifteen
hundred men ain’t gonna be no easy job.”

“Taylor will probably just
confiscate weapons and encircle the city until he gets some
direction from Washington. Once we’ve captured all the Mexican
cannons and we have them positioned around the plaza, nobody will
be able to break out.”

“Yeah, but until he hears
from Washington, Zach’s gonna be tied down here and outta business.
I can’t see him doin’ that.”

“What choice does he
have?”

Whipple shrugged. “I dunno,
but he wants to fight so I’m bettin’ he’ll find another
choice.”

October 7, 1846

Brownsville,
Texas

As the sun was rising
above the tent city behind Fort Brown, an irregular Mexican cavalry
regiment called the
Tamaulipas
rode in from the rear, throwing torches on the
tents and shooting the occupants as they ran out.

Lucky’s Place, true to its
name, was at the extreme front of the tent city, nearest the fort
and thus the last to be attacked. At the first sound of gunfire,
William Van Buskirk had pushed Savannah out of the tent with
instructions to run for the fort. William then walked calmly out
through the entrance flaps of the tent and began to methodically
shoot the marauders until his pistols were both empty.

The leader of the
irregulars, Juan Cortina, better known by his nickname Chino
Cortina, was so impressed by William’s courage and audacity that he
ordered his men to take him alive.

~

“You are the famous outlaw
Lucky Billy Van,” Cortina said, as he walked over to his new
captive.

“Is that so?” Near a flooded
resaca, William was tied to a small oak tree with his arms over his
head. Around him, Cortina’s men had begun the tasks of cooking,
tending to their horses or their wounds and establishing a
temporary camp.

“You killed ten of my men,”
Cortina said.

“It should have been twelve
but the damn Walker-Colts have a tendency to accidentally discharge
if the chamber under the hammer is loaded.”

“I spared you before I knew
who you were.”

“Fortunately you can easily
rectify that now.”

“You speak very good
Spanish.”

“My sainted mother is one of
you bean-eaters and she insisted we learn your monkey
chatter.”

Cortina knitted his brow at
the pejoratives. “If you are an enemy of Texas you might be my
friend. If you are an enemy of Mexico, you are my enemy and I will
kill you. Which are you?”

“I am the enemy of everyone
and a friend to no one.”

“I think you could be
loco.”

“You would not be the first
to think so.”

“The wanted poster that I
read said that you were a soldier in the army of North America and
trained to be a general.”

“I have read that poster
too. The picture of me is not very flattering.”

“If I cut you down will you
give me your promise not to attack my men or try to
escape?”

“No.”

“I am offering you freedom
and an opportunity to punish Texas and North America for hunting
you,” Cortina said in a frustrated tone.

“How old are you,
boy?”

“I am twenty-two and no
boy,” Cortina replied angrily.

“Within two years the army
of North America will have crushed the Mexican army and annexed
everything from here to the Pacific. There is nothing that you and
your vaquero cavalry can do about it. Nothing.”

“So – do you want me to kill
you?”

“No, I would rather you set
me free. But not if it costs me anything.”

Cortina swore under his
breath then signaled a man with a machete to cut William’s bonds.
“Run. If I can see you in five minutes I will kill you.”

William rubbed his wrists.
“I suppose asking for my guns would be a waste of time.”

“Go before I change my
mind.”

“I am grateful to be set
free but I will kill anyone who comes after me, including you,
Boy.” William walked casually across the camp, back toward Fort
Brown.

October 8, 1846

Washington, District of
Columbia

“President Polk has informed
General Taylor that the U.S. Army has no authority to negotiate
truces, only to kill the enemy,” General Winfield Scott said
dryly.

“Now you know why I’ve
stayed in retirement,” Yank Van Buskirk replied. “What does Polk
want Zach to do now? Renege on the armistice he signed with General
Ampudia?”

“Technically it was a sixty
day cessation of hostilities, but it was over in practicality when
the Mexican Army was allowed to march out of Monterrey with battle
honors, all their arms and a battery of artillery.”

“Zach was outnumbered
enormously.”

“I’m not criticizing General
Taylor’s decision, Yank. I’m just telling you what President Polk
thinks.”

“You mean what President
Polk thinks he should think based upon what his voting public
thinks it’s popular to think.”

“That is his role as
President,” Scott said. “To exercise the will of the
people.”

The people are sheep who
have no idea what it takes to wage war. They want it fast and clean
without costing them any tax money or sacrificing any of their own
family members. Now they’re calling for Polk to relieve Zack after,
with less than two thousand American volunteers, he defeated a
professional army of ten thousand in a fortress city.”

Scott didn’t
respond.

Yank shook his head. “If
Polk asked you to relieve Zack, I hope you refused,
Win.”

“President Polk has ordered
me to form an expeditionary force to take Mexico City. To my
knowledge, General Taylor has been ordered to join me,” Scott said,
obviously miffed by Yank’s words and tone. “I have not been ordered
to relieve him but if I was, I would.”

Yank thought a moment before
replying. “I think you may have missed my point, Win. Did you know
that Zach Taylor intends to run against Polk for
president?”

“I had heard
rumors.”

“They’re not rumors, they’re
fact. And in my opinion, Polk is manipulating the battlefield for
political reasons. He’s discrediting Zach and taking him from the
theater where he’s succeeded in order to prevent him from gaining
any more victories and public popularity. That’s dishonest and not
in the best interest of the United States or Texas.”

Scott sighed. “Everything
with you is always either black or while, Yank. Someone is always a
villain and the other a hero.”

Yank waved his hand in
annoyance. “Let’s get to the point. I assume you asked me here so
you could convince me to join you on your Mexico City expedition,
Win. The answer is no. I’m too old and too beat up to be of any
use.”

“This campaign isn’t going
to be a slug festival, Yank. It’ll require careful planning and
special tactics. I need your brain, not your sword.”

“I just read the third
volume of your
Infantry Tactics
book, Win. You’re the finest military mind in
America. You don’t need me.”

“Let me ask you a question,
Yank. If you were in my position, how would you proceed to capture
Mexico City?”

“That’s simple. I’d use the
same route that Hernán Cortés took in 1519 when he conquered Mexico
City. There are some remarkably detailed accounts that include
terrain and other battlefield elements that would still apply
today, exactly as they did then.”

“Can you name some of those
accounts for me please?”

“Well, let’s see, there
are the accounts of Cortés himself.
The
Conquest of New Spain
by Bernal Díaz del
Castillo, William H. Prescott’s
History of
the Conquest of Mexico
. I’d have to think
about it, but I could make you a list.”

“You’ve read all these
books?”

“Yes.”

“Cortés and Castillo in
Spanish?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t read Spanish nor do
I have the year or two it would take me to study the three books
you just mentioned, let alone all the time it might take to read
all those other books that you might add to the list.”

“I could draw you an
annotated map.”

“Or you could come along and
discuss it with me and my officers, one of whom is Colonel Jack Van
Buskirk and another is Major Robert Van Buskirk. I’m told that
Marina and Thomas are with Zack Taylor. Do you really want to be
the only member of your family that’s not in this fight,
Yank?”

“That’s not fair,
Win.”