Custer at the Alamo by Urbach Gregory

Author:Urbach, Gregory [Urbach, Gregory]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Third Squirrel
Published: 2013-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

I had made my decision, now it was time to talk with the men. For obvious reasons, this was not a conversation to have in front of the Texan volunteers. I ordered my immediate command and some of our friends into the lower pasture beyond a thick growth of trees. We took food, blankets to sit on, and I allowed them to bring the captured spirits, for a bit of cheer often makes hard choices easier.

“What’s going on, Autie?” Tom asked, rushing to my side.

“Taking your advice, Tom. Giving the men a choice,” I replied.

“Are you sure? Now?

“You were right. They should know what they’re fighting for.”

“What are they fighting for?” he asked.

“What we all fight for, little brother. Now take a seat and listen,” I said, going to the edge of the clearing.

The command was drawn out in a semicircle, most sitting on boulders or tree branches. Some had heavy jackets, others buffalo robes. It was cold enough to see the frost on their breath. The wind had died down and stars crept out through the clouds. The moon was close to full. We had scared off the game, but there were plenty of birds chirping in the trees and the occasional fish leaping from the stream. Butler and Hughes had gotten to the pasture first, lighting a bonfire. The flames climbed ten feet into the dark sky. I stood near the fire, leaning against a fallen tree trunk, the Cibolo flowing behind me in the darkness.

“Fellas, I’ve asked Colonel Crockett to join this meeting,” I said, taking an informal approach. “He knows more than he probably should. We probably know than we should, too, because we’ve gotten ourselves into quite a situation.”

Crockett took off his hat, grinned, and waved the Springfield Model 1873 I had given him. The rifle that had belonged to Corporal Martin. A bandolier with fifty rounds of ammunition hung over his shoulder. The men cheered. Everybody cheered Davy Crockett.

“Other than the loss of our family, and our friends, I know you’re all wondering about three things: what is the command going to do? What am I going to do? And what are you going to do?” I continued. “All are fine questions. First, let me tell you what you’re going to do.”

The men glanced about, the expressions mixed. Most looked encouraged to have leadership, a few frowned with resentment.

“As far as I’m concerned, this is still the Seventh Cavalry. 1876 or 1836, it makes no difference. Our duty is to serve the people of the United States. And I believe we’re in an historic position to do that. A position that can save half a million lives. Some of those lives are your fathers, brothers and uncles. Because of this great responsibility, I expect each of you to continue following orders.”

I walked back and forth before the group, hands behind my back, staring at a few who clearly disagreed. I stopped to look Tom in the face. He was completely mystified. Good. Cooke and Keogh were clueless as well.

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