Crossed Arrows 3

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Crossed Arrows 3 Page 14

by Patrick E. Andrews


  A Mauser rifle was fired from the left front, the bullet zipping between Ludlow and Michael. Both damned themselves for being caught unawares, but returned fire. More shooting burst out as the rest of the detachment joined the fighting.

  The opposing groups were less than five yards apart with each man firing as fast as he could. The circumstances of the fight had trapped them all into a do-or-die situation, neither side being able to safely withdraw.

  Several of the Mexican soldiers were hit and second later a round slammed into Jesse’s neck. The Texas ranger staggered back under the impact of the bullet and was dead before he hit the ground.

  Michael Strongbow advanced at an angle, then swung over to surprise three of the enemy. He was able to shoot them all. Then he quickly knelt and continued to work bolt and trigger to pick off two more.

  Corporal Swift Horse was struck by a bullet. He went down and tried to get up, but collapsed. The crescendo of firing increased. Ludlow Dooley was hit in the right forearm, sending his carbine flying as he was spun around by the impact. He tried to draw his pistol, but couldn’t get his right hand to function. He quickly drew the Colt revolver with his left and clumsily fired the weapon until shock caused him to sink to his knees.

  Suddenly there was no more fusillades from the enemy. The only shooting was being done by the five men in the detachment still standing.

  “Cease fire!” Hawkins bellowed.

  Echoes of the volleys died off as the captain led Sergeant Eagle Heart, Corporal Tall Bear and Scouts Red Moon and Michael Strongbow forward. They found the Mexicans in a tight cluster on the ground. One badly wounded soldier moaned and gasped. This was First Sergeant of the Guard Platas. He looked at Michael, pleading silently for mercy with his eyes. The young Kiowa scout put him out of his misery with a shot to the forehead.

  Ludlow Dooley, holding onto his wounded arm, staggered over. He was still dazed, but made a super effort to maintain control over his fading consciousness. “I think…sir…I think that…mission accomplished.”

  “You’re right, Mr. Dooley,” Hawkins said. He turned to Corporal Tall Bear. “Help the lieutenant down the mountain to the horses. The rest of us are going back up to the camp to check things out.”

  Tall Bear took Ludlow by the arm and they began the descent.

  ~*~

  Sub-Comandante Santiago Gomez had made a quick withdrawal from the fight the moment he perceived an imminent defeat. He had scrambled wildly through the woods up to the camp while the battle raged. When he arrived, he rushed over to the corral to his horse, fearing that any minute the diablos americanos would catch up with him.

  He quickly slipped a bridle on the animal and led it out of the enclosure. Then he leaped up on the horse, galloping bareback to the trail that led down to the desert floor.

  Twenty-Six

  The skirmish formation was much more spread out as the remaining four detachment members ascended the mountain toward the enemy camp. Within fifteen minutes they came to Charlie Wolf’s corpse. Michael Strongbow knelt down beside his buddy. “It looks like he died quick, Cap’n.”

  Hawkins nodded. “Nobody can linger from a wound like that.”

  Michael got to his feet as the group continued the armed trek toward the summit. They jumped across the defense trench, then knelt with weapons ready for any resistance. All was quiet with the dead bandits in several clumps where they had fallen. But Hawkins wasn’t taking any chances. He continued as the scouts checked the tent area and finally the corral where the horses were kept.

  Sergeant Eagle Heart took another quick glance around. “It look like nobody alive up here.”

  “I’d say you’re right,” Hawkins said.

  “Fight finished,” Red Moon stated. “We win.”

  “You’re right about that too,” Hawkins agreed. He turned to Sergeant Eagle Heart. “Get three horses so we can take Scout Wolf, Corporal Swift Horse and Ranger Buford down the mountain. There’s some bridles hanging on the corral fence.”

  “Yes, Cap’n,” the sergeant replied. He motioned to Corporal Tall Bear, Michael Strongbow and Red Moon to join him in the task.

  ~*~

  Down in the village of San Patricio on the morning after the Battle of Cupula Mountain, the people were blissfully unaware of the disaster that had resulted in the deaths of the vengadores.

  The farmers were following their usual casual lifestyle of sitting around, whittling and talking among themselves. With no farm work to do, the only tasks were household chores of cleaning and cooking. And this, of course, was done by the women. The small population had evolved into a contented laid-back crowd with no real worries or obligations. Colonel Juan-Carlos Valenzuela spoke to the villagers from time to time, assuring them that their young men were victorious in their quest to avenge the deaths of their fathers and grandfathers.

  But the sudden appearance of Sub-Comandante Santiago Gomez galloping bareback into the village shocked the population out of its complacency. They watched as he brought his horse to a dust-scattering halt in front of the headquarters tent. It was obvious the man was badly upset.

  The disturbance broke up a conference between Colonel Valenzuela, Comandante Jager, Major General von Richtberg and Ambassador von Wurthardt who were discussing further operations across the Rio Grande. They looked up as Gomez entered the tent, breathless and obviously disturbed.

  Gomez gasped out, “The American Army has invaded Mexico!”

  Valenzuela stood up in alarm. “What are you talking about, Captain?”

  “We were attacked yesterday by a large force of American soldiers,” Gomez reported near hysterics. The battle had unsettled his sanity. “They reached the garrison atop the mountain but we beat them back. They retreated down toward the desert and we pursued them, killing many. Then, suddenly, reinforcements of more Gringos appeared and drove us back to up to the garrison.” He paused to steady his breath. “I estimate we were outnumbered at least four to one. Maybe more!”

  Jager leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “What was the outcome?”

  “We were massacred!” Gomez exclaimed. “You don’t think we could have won, do you? I was able to make a last stand, but the brave vengadores and guardsmen around me were all shot down. I was under heavy fire but luckily managed to withdraw into the woods. I made my way through the trees then up to the corral. I only had time to put a bridle on a horse. I reached the road to the desert and made my escape.” He paused again. “I am lucky to be alive.”

  Jager was seriously troubled. “Was everyone killed? Everyone?”

  “All twenty guardsmen and the twelve vengadores were shot down.”

  Valenzuela slowly resumed his seat. “This…this is the end. El fin!”

  “Of course it is!” Jager snapped. “The Americans aren’t fools! They somehow learned about our plans.”

  General von Richtberg gave a meaningful look at Ambassador von Wurthardt. “I suggest we return to the embassy immediately.”

  “Let’s pack,” Von Wurthardt said, knowing the Kaiser would not want to commit any part of his army into the emerging fiasco. “We can catch a train to Mexico City at Vista Montaña.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Jager said.

  The Germans made a quick exit from the tent while the two Mexicans, their faces pale, stared at each other.

  Twenty-Seven

  Ten days after the Battle of Cupula Mountain, the Kiowa-Comanche Detachment arrived back in the Indian Territory. The unit had to go from the railhead to Fort Sill for Captain Mack Hawkins to make an official report about the deployment to Texas.

  Lieutenant Ludlow Dooley, because of needing medical attention on his wounded arm, made sick call at the post surgeon’s office. A hospital steward at Fort Duncan in Texas had done what he could for Ludlow’s wound, but it was obvious he would need more than first aid if it were to heal properly. Because of his extreme fatigue, the lieutenant was confined to the post dispensary overnight. Hawkins decided to wait for him until the nex
t morning for the ride back to Fort Lone Wolf.

  ~*~

  When the detachment appeared at their home garrison, the people who witnessed their arrival noticed that every man displayed an appearance of sorrow and extreme fatigue. They had been unable to bring back the bodies of Corporal Swift Horse and Charlie Wolf. There was no undertaker available in that part of Texas to preserve their corpses and the bodies would have evolved into acute decomposition during the long trip home. Consequently the pair were given proper military burials complete with an honor guard at Fort Duncan. Ranger Sergeant Jesse Buford’s body was taken by the Texas Rangers for internment at their cemetery in Austin.

  Captain Mack Hawkins went to the Southern Kiowa-Comanche Agency with Sergeant Eagle Heart to inform the families of Swift Horse and Charlie Wolf of their deaths. Ludlow had wanted to accompany them, but Hawkins ordered him to remain in his quarters for some additional resting up.

  ~*~

  The next morning Ludlow walked slowly over to the post trader’s store carrying a clean uniform. Upon arrival, he breakfasted with the other officers, giving brief answers to the questions they asked about the mission and his wound. After eating, since he was in dire need of a good washing, he paid for a bath in one of the tubs at Trader Gerald Weiser’s bathhouse to clean up before donning the fresh uniform

  An hour later, dressed and with his arm in a sling, he made his way down officers’ row to Major Berringer’s quarters to visit Miss Bess Simpson. The proper thing to do would have been to send her a request for a visit, but Ludlow was in no mood for propriety.

  When he stepped up on the porch, the young man was emotionally braced for a scowl from Mrs. Major Berringer. He knocked on the door and the maid answered the summons. “Yes, sir?”

  “Is Miss Simpson at home?” Ludlow inquired.

  “Please come in, sir.”

  When the young officer stepped into the foyer, Mrs. Major Berringer appeared from the parlor. Much to his surprise, she exclaimed, “My dear Lieutenant Dooley. How nice to see you. And I am…oh! You have been injured! I am so sorry!”

  “It’s been taken care of, ma’am. I would like to see Miss Simpson, if I may.”

  “Of course you may!” the Mrs. Major cooed. “And there is someone else here you’ll be glad to see. Please come with me into the parlor.”

  A very puzzled Ludlow followed her through the curtained entrance and stopped short in surprise. His uncle Senator Delmar Livingston, his mother’s brother, was sitting in an easy chair, chatting with Major Thomas Berringer. The senator quickly stood up and walked over to Ludlow.

  “I thought I was going to miss you, nephew,” he greeted, holding out his right hand.

  “We’ll have to shake left-handed, Uncle Delmar.”

  “That is—“

  “Ludlow!” The exclamation from Beth Simpson interrupting the senator as she hurried across the room. “You have been hurt!”

  “You certainly have,” Major Berringer said, joining them. “Was this the result of a battle, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ludlow said, wanting to impress Beth. “I was wounded during an attack on an enemy position.” He paused. “I might add that we were able to report ‘mission accomplished’ to the department headquarters at Fort Sill.”

  Senator Livingston showed a broad smile. “Well done, my boy!”

  Ludlow was curious. “What are you doing here, Uncle?”

  “I am with a senate committee making the rounds of various army posts on the frontier,” the senator replied. “I took advantage of a chance to visit you here at Fort Lone Wolf. When I arrived they informed me you had been sent to Texas to deal with bandit raiders crossing over from Mexico.”

  “It turned out to be bandits and soldiers of the Mexican Army who were committing the outrages.”

  The senator showed surprise at the news. “Are you sure the Mexican military was involved?”

  “Yes, sir,” Ludlow replied. “It’s all in the report Captain Hawkins turned in at Fort Sill.”

  “I must look into this when I pass through that garrison,” the senator commented. He smiled. “I believe you would like to visit with Miss Spencer for a bit.”

  “Yes!” the Mrs. Major brightly agreed. “We’ll excuse you youngsters to renew your friendship.”

  Ludlow and Beth wasted no time in going out to the veranda in the back of the house. They sat down side-by-side on the porch swing. Beth gave him a gaze of sincere fondness. “I did so much enjoy your letters, Ludlow. Thank you for thinking of me.”

  “I thought about you a lot.”

  “A lot, Ludlow?”

  “A whole lot, Beth,” he replied. “By the way, Mrs. Major Berringer seems to be inordinately nice to me.”

  Beth laughed. “Of course! When your uncle arrived and visited her and Uncle Thomas, she learned that you were from a wealthy New York City banking family.”

  Ludlow was also amused. “So that’s what it took, hey?”

  “You can be sure she will keep those other lieutenants at bay,” Beth told him. She looked at his arm in the sling. “Are you in pain, Ludlow?”

  “No, not a bit.”

  “I think you must be, Ludlow. You are so brave.”

  “I am more sad than anything. Two of our scouts were killed. We couldn’t bring their bodies back, so they were buried at a fort in Texas.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Beth said, now much more aware of the dangers he faced while he was gone. She wanted to change the subject. “Since you’ve just gotten back, you probably aren’t aware there’s a military ball this Saturday evening. It’s in honor of your uncle.”

  “Beth, would you allow me to escort you to the dance?”

  “Of course!”

  ~*~

  Ludlow’s morale flared up as he and Beth continued to enjoy each other’s company. Both were aware there was a sort of magic in the air as they became lost in each other’s presence.

  Twenty-Eight

  Ministro sin Carpeta Tim Harrigan sat in the office of the president of the Mexican Republic. He was in the company of el Presidente Porfirio Diaz and Secretary of National Defense David Valverde de Huera. Both of those notables were experiencing combined feelings of solemnity and anger.

  When Harrigan revealed the attacks across the Rio Grande, the president and secretary were seriously worried by the intelligence. And when he made it known that he had informed the American ambassador Alan Densmore of the situation, they were shaken even more. The last thing the two politicians wanted was trouble with the United States.

  At that point, the old Irishman went on to report that the American diplomat had advised him that a unit of the United States Army had wiped out the Vengador unit and a section of the Guardia Nacional. The two Mexican officials were hopeful that would end the problem on the border.

  Harrigan had been at the National Palace for almost a week presenting his information on the grand plot to turn Mexico and the rest of Latin America into a German colony. Diaz and Valverde de Huera were particularly upset about the Guardia Nacional, who provided protection to the Army’s general staff, being involved in the plot.

  A loyal and trusted lancer regiment was dispatched to San Patricio to question the bewildered villagers about what had transpired in their community. They talked openly of the campaign to avenge the death of their ancestors at the hands of the Gringos. The lancers’ commander also learned that two officers of the National Guard, Colonel Juan-Carlos Valenzuela and Captain Santiago Gomez had disappeared along with Lieutenant Roberto Gonzales and Sergeant Humberto Sanchez.

  From San Patricio the regiment traveled to Cupula Mountain to continue the investigation. What they found were the remains of vengadores and guardsmen at both the garrison and in the woods along the slopes of the earthen dome. All the corpses, including those among the trees, had been stripped to skeletons by numerous vultures.

  The lancers returned to Mexico City and the regimental commander reported their findings directly to el Presidente and
el Secretario de la Defensa Nacional. This was the final evidence of gross treachery and treason.

  Steps were taken that included expelling the German ambassador Dietrich von Wurthardt and launching a manhunt for the conspirators at large. While that was going on, all the other officers of the Guardia Nacional were cashiered from the service and the unit disbanded in disgrace.

  ~*~

  The U.S. Kiowa-Comanche Scout Detachment at Fort Lone Wolf had not yet received authorization to enlist two recruits to take the places of Corporal Swift Horse and Scout Charlie Wolf. It was just as well since Hawkins and Ludlow, along with Scout Michael Strongbow, faced a lot of paperwork that had to be brought up to date.

  Sergeant Eagle Heart, Corporal Tall Bear and Scout Red Moon concentrated on various work details to get the materiel part of the unit squared away. Included in those tasks was calling in the post veterinarian to check the horses for injury and sickness after their hard work along the Rio Grande.

  ~*~

  On an afternoon following the mid-day mess call, Captain Hawkins was signing a series of reports that had to be forwarded to Fort Sill in triplicate. This was being done while Lieutenant Dooley and Scout Strongbow made a tally of supplies, ammunition and miscellaneous pieces of government property that had been used up in the latest deployment. This would be followed by requisitions for replacement of the items that would be submitted as an amendment to the original document . Also in triplicate, of course.

  The work was interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Ned Turpin in the orderly room. He was the government supervisor of the Southern Kiowa-Comanche Agency. Hawkins looked up from his chore, noting the unhappy expression on the man’s face. “Hello, Ned. Anything special going on out your way?”

 

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