Salazar ground his teeth and tried not to weep. What had gone wrong? There had been so many more Spanish soldiers than American defenders and, yes, it was presumed that the attackers would suffer heavier casualties than the defending Americans. But it was also presumed that the weight of their numbers would overwhelm the American positions, however strong their positions might be.
He’d read that attacks were fragile things. Men had to agree to march into enemy fire and generally without much of a chance to return that fire. The job of the attacker was to continue to advance and make contact with an enemy who was trying to kill him, and drive that enemy away. But today, the Spanish had been halted and, instead of simply heavy casualties, there had been a slaughter. He found it hard to fault the men who had suffered so much. In a very short while there would be a truce to enable the dead and wounded to be cleared from what had become a field of death. He had to know what had caused the advance to stop. He would have to swallow his many fears and go up the hill.
He confronted a frustrated General Weyler and said that he wanted to see what had caused the attack to fail when the truce went into effect. Swearing mightily in rage and frustration, Weyler agreed and, after stripping off his officer’s tunic and exchanging it for an enlisted man’s, Salazar limped up the hill on his cane. He trembled with fear and wondered if he hadn’t let his passions lead him into a very bad decision. He had reached the point where the attack had started when yells went out that the truce was in effect. Thank God, he thought, and walked up the rest of the hill. He was still frightened, but he could control it.
He helped bring a couple of wounded down which put a lot of blood on his borrowed uniform. Good, he thought. The next time, he went as close as possible to the high point of the attack, and got within a few yards of what he realized was a wire barrier with metal spikes or hooks woven into it. Of course it had stunned and stopped the advance, he thought, not that the attack would have gone that much farther in the first place. The field of battle was covered with dead and wounded Spanish soldiers. Again, he thanked God that he had not been in the attack.
On the other side of the wire, grim and sweating American soldiers were pushing the dead who’d made it through the wire back under it and lifting off those who’d been impaled on it. These were dropped like sacks onto the Spanish side of the wire. It felt incredibly strange to be so close to the Americans. He dared not observe too closely. Americans were watching carefully, looking for any hint of sabotage and a couple of them were eyeing him curiously.
He’d seen what he’d wanted to. It was time to leave. A badly wounded soldier reached out and grabbed his leg and Salazar fought the urge to kick him away. Instead, he managed to get him up and, with still more difficulty, draped the soldier’s arm over his shoulder. Together they limped back. When he was close enough to an aid station, he handed off his burden to another man who looked at him and shrugged. “Why did you bother, sir?” This man is dead.”
* * *
Kendrick’s departure from Havana and the willing arms of Juana Salazar was delayed when news of the failed attack at Matanzas reached the city. Even though elated by the Spanish defeat and wanting to go where the news was, it was clearly dangerous for anyone even remotely looking like an Anglo to be on the streets of Havana. Pro Spanish rioters roamed the streets savagely beating people indiscriminately. The government was unable to control the chaos and Kendrick wondered if they even cared. As a result, a number of Europeans had been badly hurt and at least a couple had been lynched. Establishments catering to non-Spanish had been trashed and even burned. The Havana police and militia were slowly getting the upper hand, but without much enthusiasm.
“So many stories and nowhere to send them,” he said sadly.
Standing behind him, Juana slipped a bare arm around his equally bare chest and let a hand slide down his belly. Since they could not safely go out, they were spending as much time as possible in her room.
“When this war is over,” she said as she fondled him, “you can write a book about your experiences as an American in Spanish Havana.”
Kendrick grinned, reached back, and patted her bottom. “Can I write about this?”
“Go ahead. I no longer care what others think. On the other hand,” she said with mock piety, “please change my name when you do.”
Kendrick laughed hugely. Why on earth had he ever thought she was a stern and plain stick? She had blossomed into a vivacious and passionate woman. It occurred to him that she’d gained a couple of pounds since they came into each other’s lives. Well, she could certainly use them. She’d told him how she’d kept herself thin in order to make her unattractive to her husband who was a useless lover in the first place. Not only did she not eat much, but she taught herself how to vomit up what she had eaten.
Before the rioting he’d gotten a British passport and been out to examine the wreck of the Vitoria. A helpful young lieutenant named Hugo Torres had survived the sinking and was now working on the wreck told him of the horrors of the explosion caused by what was now known to be a torpedo. He called the weapon a devil’s tool. He told of the panic, and the torrents of water rushing through the doomed warship and drowning scores of crewmen. Curiously, the man was not bitter.
“It was war, senor, and, obviously, I survived. If we had steamed out to duel with the Americans I might well be rotting on the bottom of the Caribbean. Instead, I was simply able to swim away from the sinking battleship. From what I’ve seen and heard, the American ships are bigger and better than hours and their crews are better trained. The men under my command were the dregs of the earth who knew nothing about serving in a navy and showed no interest in learning. I will mourn for those of my friends who were killed, but I exult in the fact that I am alive.”
“Will you try to raise the ship?” It was obvious from the activity that the Spanish were trying to exactly that.
“Of course,” said Torres. “If nothing else we must remove the hulk from the harbor where it is a dangerous impediment to shipping. The hole caused by the torpedo has been repaired and the next step will be to right the ship so she can be pumped out. But will she return to her place in Spain’s navy? I don’t think so. Her insides have been smashed by the explosion of one of her magazines and her engine has been underwater and ruined. In my opinion, she will be floated so she can be dragged out of the way or, when the war ceases, sent farther out into the ocean where she can be sunk in deep water.”
Torres made the sign of the cross. “Perhaps we will be able to recover the bodies of the missing and give them a mass and a Christian burial.”
“How many missing are there?”
“Six or eight, depending on which doctor you talk to. I suggest you go to the morgue and see them trying to assemble body parts into whole persons. I do not envy them their task, but honor says it must be done.”
Kendrick had thanked him for his perspective and the young lieutenant had laughed. “By the way, senor, I’ve been to England and your British accent is as awful as anyone I have ever heard.”
He and Juana had laughed over that incident and decided that he would not go out without Juana to translate for him. Nor would they emerge from their cocoon until the fighting in the streets stopped. Filing the story of his examination of the Vitoria’s hulk would wait. Smoke continued to pour skyward from a number of sites in the beleaguered city. Perhaps the US wouldn’t have to storm Havana. Perhaps they could let the Spanish destroy the city for them.
* * *
Ryder called an informal council of his advisors. They included Lang, Barnes, and Haney. Rank wasn’t one of the reasons for inclusion. He wanted intelligent opinions. In only a short while, the lean Texan had proven himself as a leader, while Haney always had been. As to Barnes, the acting regimental commander still had to prove himself as a leader, but certainly had the brains.