“Yeah,” said Taylor. “All I want to do is finish this war and then get back to my daddy’s Wall Street law practice where I can get rich squashing ordinary people like you and driving you further into financial ruin.”
“Jeez, you’re all heart, Lieutenant.”
The Rio Grande. Tovey and his men cheered when the river came into view. Shallow and sandy, it had become a symbol of Texas pride and independence, as had the burned-out hulk that had once been the proud city of Laredo.
Tovey now commanded the First Texas Volunteer Brigade and served alongside the First Marine Division now commanded by General John Lejeune. After the intense fighting at San Antonio, the Marines and the men of the Texas Brigade had formed a bond, one created in blood. Undisciplined though the Texans were, the Marines recognized fighters when they saw them. For their part, the Texans stood in some awe of the thoroughly deadly and totally professional Marines.
As they approached Laredo, they could see the rear of the Mexican Army crossing back to their own country. Rank and file soldiers wondered if the Mexicans had reached sanctuary or if the army would be allowed to pursue. To a man they wanted to chase the Mexicans as far south as they could.
Carefully, soldiers and Marines entered the shattered city of Laredo, looking for booby-traps and snipers. Most buildings were charred hulks and those that hadn’t been burned out were at least badly damaged. The city stank of death. A handful of emaciated dogs emerged from someplace and growled at the approaching Americans. Tovey wondered what they’d been eating. He decided he already knew. The dogs would have to die. A shame. He liked dogs.
Astonishingly, a handful of people remained in Laredo. A few old men and a handful of scraggly women emerged and looked at them with a mixture of relief and uncertainty. The men had hidden in caves and basements, while the women had worked for the Mexicans to pick up a little food by doing their cooking and laundry. Some had doubtless whored for them as well, but Tovey wasn’t in the mood to be judgmental. Let them answer to their God, their neighbors, and maybe the laws of the State of Texas.
Sporadic gunfire kept the men on their toes. Mexican and American snipers sparred with each other from their respective sides of the river. Tovey sprawled behind a ruined wall and took a swallow of brackish water from his canteen. Lejeune dropped down beside him. “Tovey, what do you want to do about the bastards who destroyed this town?”
Tovey grinned wickedly. “Chase the sons of bitches back to the halls of Montezuma, general, and then maybe all the way to the fucking shores of Tripoli.”
Lejuene roared. “Good one. Instead of going that far, why don’t we make a little compromise? Why don’t we just go as far south as Monterrey? That way maybe we can catch that butcher Carranza and cut the German supply route from Vera Cruz to the west.”
Tovey sloshed his parched mouth with what remained of the contents of his canteen. He’d likely have to fill up in the Rio Grande and God only knew who’d been shitting and pissing in that river.
“Great idea,” he said. “When do we go?”
Lejuene looked over the situation. Several battalions had made it to the shallow running river and the Mexican presence across in the town of Ciudad Juarez seemed minimal.
“I’d say there’s no time like the present.”
“Hot damn,” said Tovey. He stood and waved his rifle. “Texans, get off your asses and cross this fucking river! Now, now, now!”
Texans and Marines roared their approval and surged forward, crossing in a rush, with machine guns covering their approach. Mexican resistance, limited already, melted entirely. Within minutes, several thousand Americans were in Ciudad Juarez, Mexican territory.
Lejeune slapped Marcus on the back. “Tovey, your speech was the most inspirational and eloquent I’ve ever heard. You should’ve been a Marine.”
CHAPTER 16
Dwight Eisenhower had always been a quick study, but he found himself overwhelmed by the scope of the job he’d been handed. Through hard work and a sleepless night, however, he felt he had begun to get a handle on the basics.
Ike rubbed his eyes and took a sip of coffee. He winced. It had gotten cold and he couldn’t stand cold coffee. Luke got him another one. “Luke, tell me some things I don’t know.”
Luke grinned. The two of them were alone in Ike’s office, the one that had been Nolan’s. That man’s personal possessions had been taken down and a handful of Ike’s put up. A photo of Mamie Eisenhower smiled proudly at Ike from across his desk, and why shouldn’t she be proud? Her husband had just been promoted to the temporary rank of brigadier general.
“General, there isn’t much to tell. Since the Germans are the ones doing the advancing, we haven’t gotten many prisoners, and those we did capture are as ignorant of their superiors’ intentions as we are, except for the obvious. They want San Francisco. There are no rumors saying they’re going all the way to Canada, or anyplace else. German soldiers do not communicate with officers like ours do. Their job is to execute not to discuss strategy. It’s a very totalitarian army.”
Ike sipped some of his fresh coffee. “Now, this is more like it. Good, solid army coffee. How many old socks went into its preparation?”
“Just a few, General, they’re being rationed.”
Ike laughed. “You know, I’m really going to miss those sessions with you and Patton in Connor’s office. Damn the Krauts for killing him, and, no, I haven’t forgotten I’m a Kraut too.” He sighed. “Everybody’s got opinions, so let’s hear yours, Luke. What will the Germans do when they appear on our doorstep and quit calling me ‘general’ when it’s just the two of us. We have too much history for that.”
Luke wasn’t certain about that, but he went along. “Ike, I think they will continue in the meticulous manner that they’ve shown all throughout their advance. I think they will reach us, dig in extensively, and prepare for overwhelming assaults on selected portions of our defenses. Their trenches won’t be as extensive or as deep as ours because they will be intended to keep us in, while ours are intended to keep them out. Still, I think they will take time to mass and prepare.”
“But not too much time,” Ike said. “They have to know that a goodly number of our men made it across the Columbia and brought a lot of equipment with them. Not enough to face them man to man and, of course, our people aren’t half as well trained or as well armed as theirs, but enough to help hold our defenses.”
“Which is why they will pick a point or two in our lines and attempt to overwhelm us,” Luke added.
“And Hutier’s shock force will be one of them, won’t it?”
“Has to be, Ike. Even if it’s not their main thrust, they have to know that we’d be concerned. We can’t be everywhere and they will play off that simple mathematical fact.”
They turned to the map of California. Arrows and pins showed the Germans approaching Monterey on the coast and to the west of Fresno.
“Ike, I keep hearing rumors of secret weapons. Anything to them?”
“I hear the same rumors, Luke. Sims and Billy Mitchell have something called Operation Firefly and I have no idea what it is. Mitchell is half crazy and half a genius, so if Sims sees something in it, it might be interesting. Then there’s the question of what Patton is up to in the north. I asked and was told it had nothing to do with my gathering intelligence about the Germans.”
Luke shook his head. “So we may have secrets?”
“I put no faith in secret weapons. If they were so good, why wouldn’t we already have them? No, give me some well-trained men, some Lewis machine guns, some Browning Automatic Rifles and, oh yes, lots of artillery. No secrets there, just some good weapons to put in the hands of good men.”