by Drew McGunn
Will shook hands with his counterpart, who commanded the militia’s reserve, as neither of them were in uniform. “When did you get into town, Ben?”
“Yesterday. Took the coach from Houston. I had been visiting the Trinity Gun Works. Damnation, Buck, but they have one hell of an operation, you know.”
Will nodded perceptively. “They should. We’ve thrown enough money their way, as of late. What do you think of their new model rifle?
“I ain’t never seen it’s like. That rifle beats all. Why, a good marksman could knock the chip off old Santa Anna’s shoulder at five hundred yards with it. Mr. Berry told me they have completed a few hundred rifles, but less than a hundred are ready for delivery. There’s a bit of a challenge to getting enough of the platinum for the sealing rings. Those that are ready will ship to the Alamo within the week. They’re also running behind on the Trinity pistol design and expect to ship around fifty at the same time,” McCulloch said.
Will awoke the next morning, the lumpy mattress hadn’t made for the best rest, but it was better than the cold, hard ground. He looked over to his side, where normally he would find Becky still sleeping.
“As much time as I spend traveling, you’d think I’d get used to her absence,” he thought.
But she was well along in her pregnancy, and he loathed being away from her as frequently as circumstances required. This time was different, in one respect. With less than eighteen months until the next election cycle, Crockett was determined to secure the boundary between Texas and Mexico as agreed upon in the Treaty of Bexar, before his term of office ended.
Will rolled out of bed, and began getting dressed. This morning’s meeting would set the military’s agenda for the next couple of years. Even so, it was hard to set thoughts of his wife aside as he crossed the road to the Capitol building, arriving just in time for the meeting. As he entered the Capitol, the scaffolding which had surrounded it over the last couple of years was gone. The chambers for both houses of Congress had been finished and all of the executive and legislative offices were also completed.
Crockett’s office was finished, the white plastered walls would have looked drab and uninteresting except for the various mementos which hid much of the plastering. His own desk was shoved to the side, and a trundle table took up most of one side of the office, where a large map of Texas was spread out. Within a few minutes of Will’s arrival, he and the president were joined by Vice President Zavala and Secretary of War, Bernard Bee and lastly, a tardy Ben McCulloch.
As McCulloch took up station at one end of the table, Crockett growled, “Now that we’re all here, let’s stop wasting daylight, gentlemen. As all of you are aware, all of my efforts to get Mexico to recognize Texas’ independence and ratify the Treaty of Bexar have come to naught. They simply do not see what is plainly staring them in the face.”
Bee added, “Having been to Mexico twice in the last few years at the president’s request, it’s worse than that, in my opinion. The lack of stability in their government has made them overly sensitive in their international relations. In my opinion, the only reason they haven’t tried to invade us again is that they are bogged down trying to wrestle the Republic of the Yucatan back into their fold.”
Zavala said, “Let’s not forget, gentlemen, the Mexican government, whether it is being led by Santa Anna, or Bustamante, is proud. The French humiliated them a few years ago at Vera Cruz and because the Mexican government perceives it is much stronger than either us or the Yucatan, they have the power to simply refuse to treat with us. I think, they believe once their internal fortunes change and the central government has fewer domestic challenges they intend to completely repudiate the treaty and invade again, as Bernard has stated.”
Crockett leaned against the table and shook his head. “Were they asleep when we defeated the Comanche, Lorenzo?”
With a shrug, Zavala said, “What happens a thousand miles from their capital is unfortunately of little concern to the Centralists controlling the Mexican government today, David. It’s unlikely they made the connection.”
With an air of resignation, Crockett said, “That leads us up to the present. I have received reports from an agent in El Paso that folks thereabouts are scared of the Apache and apparently are asking Texas to provide protection against the Mescalero Apache. It appears that the Comanches’ retreat north of the Red River may have emboldened the Indians in Nuevo Mexico to increase their raids against their traditional enemies. The Mexican central government either can’t or won’t make any effort to keep the people of El Paso safe from the Indians.”
Will was perplexed. This didn’t match his own source of information from the region in question. McCulloch beat him to the question when he asked, “Mr. President, I was under the impression the Apaches are further west than El Paso del Norte. How reliable are these sources?”
Crockett smiled sardonically. “This is to remain betwixt the five of us, gentlemen, but the accuracy of these reports would make me as nervous as a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs, if it were not for one tiny detail.”
The three politicians in the room traded knowing glances. Will knew a false flag when he saw it. He cocked an upraised eyebrow at Crockett, waiting for him to continue. “This communication serves us chiefly by conveying to other countries who would care to see, we are acting in the interests of those Mexican settlers who live in the land ceded to us by the treaty of Bexar, to protect them. The fact that we’re also enforcing the treaty’s border is just a happy coincidence.”
As the president had been speaking, Will was studying the large map spread out before them. “You’re unusually quiet, Buck. What are your thoughts?”
Still looking at the map, Will gestured toward it. “It’s a long way from here to El Paso, David. Near enough six hundred miles from the Alamo, if I recall correctly. If we decide to send a force of cavalry out there, we’re going to need at least thirty days to travel the distance. If we add infantry into the mix, then add another fifteen days to that.” Crockett’s proposal was one Will had been thinking about quite a bit lately and he hated to burst the president’s enthusiasm, but he had no choice. “At this time, we lack the ability to support a force necessary to hold the town north of the Rio Grande at El Paso del Norte if the Mexican government decides to contest our claim.”
Deflated, Crockett said, “Sometimes Buck, I wish you’d do what a lot of these fine politicians in Austin do, and tell me what I want to hear, instead of the truth. If we can’t do it today, then what’s it going to take to hold El Paso for Texas?”
“It depends on a lot of different variables, David,” Will said as he was trying to think through the president’s long-term goals, “What’s the purpose of holding El Paso? Is it a jumping off point for a future campaign to take control of Santa Fe and Albuquerque?”
It was an open secret among the political and military leaders of Texas Crockett was determined to secure the borders guaranteed by Treaty of Bexar before the end of his six-year term the following year. “Yes. I know it don’t exactly count to my credit, Buck, but I will do everything within my power to give the next president the gift of a republic, secure within her own borders.”
The president’s words validated a scenario Will had been discussing with Sid Johnston for the past few months. When Will spoke, he relied heavily on the earlier conversation. “We were blessed with good luck and rapidly evolving tactics to win our earlier fights with Mexico and the Comanche. The problem is that amateurs spend their time talking about tactics. Professionals study logistics. In order to bring El Paso under our flag, we’re going to need to turn our focus to supporting an army, six hundred miles from our nearest town. To do that, we’re going to need to set up a line of supply depots between San Antonio and El Paso.”
He leaned over the map and with a pencil, marked a spot on the map about seventy-five miles northwest of the Alamo, “We can set the first supply depot and fort here along the Guadeloupe River.”
As he moved th
e pencil over the map, and traced westward he stopped and marked the map a second time. “About a hundred miles west of the first fort, we’ll set up a second supply depot here.” The spot on the map was devoid of rivers or other notable markers. “We’ll want to verify a decent water source, but assuming reliable, year-round water, we’ll put the second stop there.”
Will tossed the pencil on the map and waved his hand over the empty space on the map, “As you can see, we don’t know enough about the lay of the land that far to the west. We’ll need at least two more supply depots to the west, but we need to send out a scouting company to reconnoiter the area and find a route by which we can send our force. That’s going to require more time.” He pointed to the last few hundred miles east of El Paso. “You’re looking at some of the most desolate land in Texas. If we choose a northerly route, the places we can establish depots are going to be few and far between. And if we choose a route near the Rio Grande, then it puts our supply line too close to Mexico. If they find and cut it, our army is cut off.”
Crockett grimaced as he looked at the two penciled in depots on the map. The line stretched less than two hundred of the six hundred miles. “That’s a passel of assumptions between here and yonder, Buck. I need to know two things. What’s it going to take to get to El Paso and can you get there this year?”
All the men in the room stared at Will as he studied the map. After longer than he would have liked, Will said, “To pull this off, we’re going to need to expand our quartermaster’s department, a lot. Presently, Major Wyatt, our infantry battalion’s executive officer, plays the role of quartermaster, with a dozen or so men acting as his quartermaster’s corps. We’re going to need to split it off and establish a new unit whose sole purpose is to supply an army in the field. Additionally, we’re going to need to hire quite a few contractors to haul supplies between the Alamo and these depots. I’d suggest a company-sized unit, maybe sixty men, to staff the quartermaster’s corps and a big enough budget to hire as many waggoneers as needed to do the job. We should plan on four depot forts between here and El Paso. At a minimum, we’re going to need to station a platoon at each fort, so that’s two more infantry companies.”
Crockett was mentally tallying the cost and as Will spoke, his face grew long. “That’s a lot of money, Buck.”
Will conceded the point. “True, but I’m not finished. Before we send a force to secure El Paso, we’re going to need to add another company of cavalry, at a minimum. Additionally, we’re going to need to rearrange our Ranger companies on the Red River frontier, so we can shift three Ranger companies to be part of that force. But fortunately, that should not impact our budget, David.”
The president grumbled, “Is there anything else?”
Will chuckled mirthlessly. “I want to include another company. As we’re all aware, I have had Captain Hays working with his special Rangers. They’re going to be the vanguard of this operation, when they’re finished with their training.”
Will paused to catch his breath before continuing, “To summarize, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. We’ll have eight companies of mounted troops. Four regular cavalry, and four Ranger companies. That’ll total three hundred and forty men. Add to it, two hundred men to protect the supply depots and another hundred contractors to haul supplies.”
Crockett finally smiled, “It appears you’ve been thinking about this for a while, Buck.”
“Congress keeps you up at night. This is the kind of thing which keeps me up,” Will said with a weary smile.
Zavala said, “It looks to me, David, like we’re going to have to grow the army if we want to pull this off.”
Crockett looked over at Will, “Is there anything else we should consider?”
Will hated to deliver unwelcome news, but he had just detailed the easy part. “Unfortunately, getting to El Paso is just the first part. A few hundred mounted troops may not be enough to pacify Santa Fe and Albuquerque. While my information is a few years old, as I understand it, the governor of Nuevo Mexico has several hundred regulars and more than a thousand militia. As far from Mexico City as they are, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s been operating his own little kingdom these days and I doubt he would willingly give up the taxes he collects from the Santa Fe Trail trade. To crack that nut, I think we should use a battalion of infantry, Seguin’s regular cavalry and a battery of field artillery.”
Crockett looked up from the map with concern in his eyes, “We’re going to need more men.”
Will produced a neatly folded sheet of paper from his vest pocket and gave it to the president. “Yes, sir. To bring all of this together, we’re going to need a total of four more infantry companies, and another of cavalry. It would be a good idea if we can talk congress into another artillery battery as well.”
Crockett studied the prepared numbers on the page and asked, “How long will this take you, Buck?”
Will leaned against the table and thought about it. “I think we can start by sending a company of infantry to the first of the depot locations within the next couple of weeks. We have a couple of dozen engineers in the army, and I’d like for them to go along with the infantry and lay out the road between the Alamo and the first depot. I’ll prepare orders for Colonel Caldwell as soon as I return to San Antonio. He’s going to need a couple of months’ time to reorganize Rangers along the Red River and to send his three companies down to us. Also, I believe Captain Hays’ men need at least another month’s training before they’ll be ready. Juan is going to need two months to recruit and train another company of cavalry, too.”
McCulloch spoke up. “General, if I may, why don’t we mobilize one of our cavalry companies from our reserves? We’ve got six companies of cavalry which are equipped to the same standards as our regulars. If you give them two months’ training, you’ll save both time and money and won’t need to recruit a new company from scratch.”
Will agreed and asked McColloch to select and mobilize the unit. Then he turned to Crockett and said, “Liberating El Paso will primarily be a mounted operation. I’ve decided Juan will command the cavalry campaign. Before I head back to San Antonio, I’ll draft a request for his promotion to Lt. Colonel. I’ll leave it to you to push it through Congress.”
Crockett walked over to the lone window in his office and looked outside. From the Capitol’s second floor, he could see Congress Avenue running straight as an arrow to the south, where it ended on the north bank of the Colorado River. His eyes looked beyond the town’s checkerboard pattern, past the languidly flowing river, to the rolling prairie beyond. Will and the others in the room watched him as minutes ticked by. After an interminable amount of time, Crockett turned back to the men in the room, and said, “When I think about what we’re about to do, gentlemen, I am in awe at the risks we’re taking. If we fail, I fear the forces of annexation will triumph in next year’s election. I know I’m putting a heap of responsibility on your, Buck, but if there is one man I trust to make Texas secure within our borders, it’s you.”
With that, Crockett opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out a glass bottle, full of an amber colored liquor, and then produced five glasses from the same drawer.
As he poured the liquor into the glasses, he said, “It’s only fitting, with so much at stake, that we raise high a glass to our success.”
He raised his own glass before the others and said, “To our continued success!”
The glasses clinked. Zavala chimed in, “To Santa Fe!”
After the liquor burned his throat, Will upended the glass and slammed it on the desk. “To Texas!”
Epilogue
The cameraman leaned away from the television camera which rested on a heavy-duty tripod, and pointed toward Douglas Earl King, counting down the seconds until the show was live. As the technician’s fingers reached zero, King heard audio in his earpiece, as introductory music played. A producer stood at a small table behind the camera, where he watched the introduction play on a
monitor.
The flag of the Republic of Texas briskly waved on the screen. A gargantuan diamond spun from the bottom of the screen and the words, Happy 175th anniversary scrolled from above, until they were superimposed over the spinning diamond, which was in front of the rippling flag. The producer heard the national anthem playing in his ear, as the scene on the monitor faded, replaced by a sweeping panoramic view of a prairiescape. Villages zoomed into focus before slipping away, as the helicopter which was filming the vista flew overhead.
As the last notes of the anthem sounded, the screen was filled with a gleaming skyscraper, standing five hundred feet above the green prairie. Atop the building two flags waved in the lively wind. One was the lone star flag, the other was a blue and red flag, with a gold Comanche warrior emblazoned in the center.
The image in the monitor faded, as the light over the camera flashed red. Each of the men in the spacious room heard the announcer’s voice in their earpieces. “Retrospectives in History is Texas Cable News’ special one hundred seventy fifth anniversary series, that looks back at significant milestones since the founding of the Republic of Texas in March of 1836. This evening’s show is brought to you by the good folks at First Comanche National Credit Corporation and the Texas National Chapter of Habitat for Humanity, restoring homes and hopes across the Republic for the past thirty years.”
The producer watched Douglas Earl King appear on the monitor, as the camera in the room centered on the special news anchor. He was sitting on a tall, highbacked chair, his feet rested on a metal bar several inches above the floor.
The anchor looked directly into the camera and with a characteristically folksy charm said, “Welcome to this evening’s presentation of TCN’s one hundred seventy fifth anniversary retrospective. Tonight’s guest is Elijah Walker, Chairman-emeritus of one of Texas’ oldest continuously chartered corporations, First Comanche National Credit Corporation. Elijah, thank you for joining us this evening.”