1920: America's Great War-eARC (28 page)

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.”

* * *

Captain Adolf Steiner looked up from his desk and smiled tightly. “Olson, you look worried. Why is that?”

“Captain, I am always worried. Show me a man without a care in the world and I’ll show you a fool. So, yes, I am worried.”

Steiner sat back in his chair. It used to be Olson’s. “About what?”

“Rumors are swirling that the Mexicans got themselves defeated at San Antonio and are retreating towards the Rio Grande. Our Mexican allies, in particular the men I’m using as guards, are very concerned, and that makes me worry about their loyalty.”

Steiner sighed. He’d known this moment would come. “Your stalwart Mexican guards have a right to be concerned. Not only was their army in Texas defeated, it was virtually destroyed. And the American Army under someone named Pershing is not headed towards the Rio Grande; it has already crossed the Rio Grande and might be on its way to Monterrey. If that has occurred, Carranza may be on his way to becoming a footnote to history.”

Olson paled. “Then Mexico is out of the war?”

“Hardly. Mexico is doing yeoman service in tying down the vast majority of the uniformed mob the United States calls its army. Every American moving south towards Monterrey is one who is not moving north and west to reinforce Liggett. In fact, every step Pershing’s army takes places them farther away from doing something useful. Olson, the Mexicans were never meant to win. Their job was to die on our behalf and they are doing an admirable job of it.” He laughed. “Of course, they didn’t realize it at the time, although perhaps it’s dawning on that fool, Carranza.”

“And if the Americans take Vera Cruz and eliminate your base, or there’s another government in Mexico City that is hostile to Germany, what then?”

“We no longer need Vera Cruz as a base, although we might try to hang on to it to tie up the Americans. A few divisions from Germany will stiffen Mexico’s spine. Or we will simply take over whatever the Americans don’t want. Or we will just abandon Mexico to its well-deserved fate at the hands of vengeful and vindictive Americans. Vera Cruz has become redundant thanks to the capture of San Diego and Los Angeles. Why in God’s name would we haul supplies overland when we can send them by ship to those ports? Or haven’t you noted the slackening of material coming from the east?”

Olson flushed. He had but he had put it down to a lessening need for an Atlantic base, not a total lack of a need for one.

“Look, Steiner, there will be desertions when the Mexican guards find out, and we need those people to maintain order. I’m afraid they’ll change their allegiance back to Obregon the minute they sense that Carranza’s done with.”

Steiner glared. Olson was taking liberties. Steiner preferred to be addressed by rank. “Then you stop them, Olson. Kill a few of the guards if you have to, and if too many of our guards run, then do something about the prisoners. We can’t have them rushing us and slicing our throats with the knives they’ve doubtless got hidden everywhere in their camp, now can we?”

Olson had a horrible thought. “What do you mean by doing something about the prisoners?”

He laughed savagely. “Why Olson, if it comes down to it, you will have to kill them.”

Olson’s mind reeled. Kill all the American prisoners? Dear God, had he backed the wrong dog in this fight? He forced himself to be logical. Steiner liked logic.

“I don’t think the Mexicans would do it even if ordered, and I know damn well my own men won’t. They’ll all kill enemies in battle, but they won’t slaughter helpless prisoners.” Well, maybe a couple of them would, he thought.

Steiner smiled tightly. “Then you’d better learn to sleep lightly and with a gun under your pillow.”

* * *

The crown prince and the admiral finished a pleasant meal of grilled salmon accompanied by a surprisingly good white wine. They were in a wealthy man’s mansion south of Monterey, California, and seated on a patio overlooking the ocean. The homeowner had departed weeks earlier. The wine came from the owner’s private stock. Like so many people in the area, he’d made his own.

The scenery was beyond fantastic. Great waves crashed among massive, craggy rocks. Both men admitted they could watch the waves for hours if only the war would let them. Only the two German battleships anchored offshore intruded on the area’s natural beauty.

They were told that the homeowner had been a banker before the war; now the man was a refugee. The size of the estate, however, had given them a further understanding of the wealth and potential of California, a land that would soon join the Reich. It was understood that, after the war, many Americans would leave and migrate east of the Rockies, which would be the new boundary. In their place would come good, solid German immigrants to California.

The admiral and the crown prince had their own concerns about the Mexican defeat and how it would affect them. The prince waved away the servants who were hovering near them. They left the patio and gave the two men privacy. The first topic of discussion was the deteriorating situation with Mexico. They were shocked that the Mexican collapse had been so quick and so total. Obviously, Mexico had been a weak reed.

Admiral Hipper laughed. “Since I have no Mexicans among my crews, I must consider myself fortunate. Tell me, Majesty, just how much do you depend on those cretins?”

“Less and less each day. I use them as workers rather than as soldiers. The ones guarding the mountain passes are the exception. Since you were kind enough to deliver those two divisions of German soldiers from Indo-China, I will use one to buttress the Mexicans and even take over from them in the passes should it prove necessary.”

Both men understood that this had not been the plan. The two divisions were intended to reinforce the drive to San Francisco, not function as guards over unruly Mexicans guarding the mountain passes. However, plans always went to hell the minute they were implemented, and one worked with the tools one had.

Wilhelm wiped his mouth with a napkin and took a sip of the homemade wine. Really quite pleasant, he thought, although just a little too sweet. “And how is your fleet? I too have heard rumors that all is not as well as it should be.”

Hipper scowled. “Unfortunately, the rumors are correct. The officers are impatient and feel that they are missing out on the glory of the war by performing tedious blockade duty. They want me to storm San Francisco Bay and blow the town to pieces, after which they want to steam north and do likewise to the Americans in Puget Sound. You heard I lost a cruiser because a squadron commander got impatient? Well, I’m afraid there might be more of that if something doesn’t happen soon.

“And the morale among the enlisted sailors is very low. They are living in cramped quarters in ships that were never intended to be at sea for this long. Our ships were built to rule the Baltic and the North Atlantic, returning periodically to warm, comfortable barracks, not to travel around the world like the British ships. I am afraid that illness, like the American flu, might strike. That and the fact that the lower decks are filled with radicals and communists who could cause trouble at the first chance concern me.”

“Can you give your men shore leave?”

“Only at the cost of weakening the blockade, Majesty.”

The prince understood the admiral’s dilemma. His own army was wearing down as well, although that had been expected and even built into their plans.

The German Army was on the doorstep of San Francisco. A couple of weeks and they would be able to attack and overwhelm the Americans.

The crown prince sighed. “Do what you can for your men. I am rotating my own out of the lines as much as I can. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so concerned about the Americans breaking our blockade. Kindly consider some form of shore leave to keep your men fresh. As to your bloodthirsty young officers, tell them they’ll have all the fighting they can handle in a very little while.”

* * *

Patton did not like to admit to uncertainty. Indecisiveness and timidity were for fools and incompetents. He now had a vision as to how his precious new tanks should be used and it was at odds with division and corps commanders who greatly outranked him.

Thus, he was now in a Come to Jesus meeting with II Corps Commander, Major General James Harbord, and the army’s overall commander, Lieutenant General Hunter Liggett. Harbord was definitely against Patton’s ideas, while Liggett seemed curious, possibly receptive.

Patton took a deep breath. He wasn’t awed by either man. His family was wealthy and he was descended from at least one general in the American Revolution, Hugh Mercer, and many of his family had served with the Confederacy. Patton had been born in California and deeply felt the agony of the invasion. No man would ever awe him.

Patton was intrigued by the idea of reincarnation and frequently wondered if he had been a great war leader in another life, maybe Hannibal or Caesar. Whether it was true or not, Patton felt he was destined for greatness. Perhaps a future young soldier would wonder if he was a reincarnated Patton. The thought pleased him.

Harbord’s idea was quite simple. The tanks were excellent ideas and would, if accompanied by infantry, be able to penetrate German defenses on a broad front. Patton agreed that it would happen. He simply did not agree that it was the best usage of the new weapon.

“Gentlemen, I see the tank as replacing heavy cavalry of old. The tank is the reincarnation of the medieval knight and neither the knights nor other heavy cavalry were dispersed across a battlefield. No, they were massed and first they destroyed enemy cavalry and then they ran amuck behind the enemy’s infantry, slaughtering those poor fools as they ran in panic for safety. Better, and unlike the knights of old, we do not have to worry about the Germans having tanks of their own.”

Harbord interrupted, “But what about the German armored cars and trucks?”

Patton laughed harshly. “They are toys. They don’t have the guns to damage my tanks and don’t have the armor to protect against the weapons of my tanks.”

“But won’t you be putting all your eggs in one basket if you mass them?” Liggett asked. “What if they’re taken by an artillery barrage? They could all be destroyed.”

“General, that’s all the more reason to keep them together and moving so fast that the artillery can’t range on them. And with all due respects to your infantry, General Harbord, even if accompanied by tanks, they will not be able to do any more than push the Germans back a little ways, if even that. We do not have enough infantry to do any more. We’re still feeling the effects of the damned influenza along with other factors.”