Kendrick laughed and lit up his own cigar. In deference to Custer’s new found sobriety, he was deferring having a drink until later. He and Juana would have at least a couple before retiring to bed and yet another evening of frolicking. Juana was bent on purging herself of years of sexual restrictions and repressions and Kendrick would be there to help her. Custer was right about the book, however. He had enough material to fill a couple of manuscripts. All he had to do was survive this coming battle and get the hell out of Cuba and to New York.
* * *
General Weyler stepped into Villate’s office and closed the door behind him. The window was open and the smoke from numerous fires wafted in. Rifle fire rattled in the distance. “The city is clearly going to hell, general,” he said as he sat down in the chair in front of Villate’s large and ornate desk. “So is Cuba, for that matter.”
Villate shrugged off his concerns. “We will regain control of Havana in a few hours. In the meantime, we will let the soldiers work off their anger at having been so thoroughly defeated and forced to retreat to this last bastion of the Spanish Empire in the Atlantic.”
Weyler kept his face expressionless. Villate’s comments were a not very subtle criticism of his handling of the American landings at Matanzas. Cables from Madrid had been from an angry king and prime minister. How could a Spanish Army that outnumbered the Americans by so much have been forced back to a small perimeter around Havana? How indeed, Weyler kept wondering. By rights, the smaller American army should have been forced into the sea where thousands of American soldiers would have drowned. Worse, just about every garrison in Cuba, including the large one at Santiago, was also under siege by the Cuban rebels who were growing in number and aggressiveness with each passing day.
The answer to the failure at Matanzas was quite simple. Many of the enlisted men in the Spanish Army didn’t want to fight. Consisting in one part of Cuban conscripts and another part of Spanish conscripts, there was little motivation to fight the Americans. The Cuban conscripts either wanted to go home, or desert and join the rebels, while the Spanish enlisted men were homesick for Spain and had no idea why on earth they were fighting a war thousands of miles away in Cuba. The officer corps and the non-commissioned officers were made of sterner stuff, at least most of them.
Weyler wondered what the German observer, Helmsdorf, was thinking and sending to Berlin either in diplomatic pouches or via coded telegrams. The German’s attitude towards him was arrogant and condescending. It was almost as if he was saying that any German general could have better handled the fighting. Ruefully, he thought that Helmsdorf’s unspoken thoughts might have merit.
Weyler decided to respond to Villate’s comments. “The army will fight well behind the walls of Havana. However, if those walls are breached, I am not confident of anything. The entire army might collapse. I would like to repeat my earlier request that a second line of fortifications be built behind the first one.”
Villate shook his head angrily. “I said no before and I’m saying it again. If we build a second line it will be the same as admitting that we cannot hold the first. The already demoralized army might, as you suggest, just collapse entirely. I would prefer that we attack. I suggest that we organize elite forces and send them out in raids. That will buoy up the confidence of the people and the army.”
“It will be done,” Weyler said. He liked the idea of keeping the Americans off balance. “On a slightly different topic, how long can we hold out and what plans does Madrid have for us? And when will Madrid send us reinforcements?”
Villate laughed loudly enough that people working and talking outside his office were suddenly silent. “They will not send us shit. We are totally on our own. We must defend ourselves so vigorously that the Americans will either withdraw or decide to negotiate an honorable end to this war. For instance, in return for sending them both Custer and that idiot Salazar so they can hang him, they might be induced to leave.”
“General, do you really believe that?”
“Of course not,” Villate snapped. “In the meantime, we will make do with what we have. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve expelled many thousands of civilians who are of no military use to us. Those are the women and children and the men who are too young or too old to fight. Spanish women are being permitted to stay, of course. We cannot allow noble Spanish ladies to be abused by either the Americans or the rebels. The useless ones were simply taking up valuable space and eating irreplaceable food. As a result, we can last for about four months before starvation sets in. That assumes, of course, that the fools who are burning the city don’t destroy our food reserves as well. I’ve also closed the concentration camps and sent the inmates off any way they wish.”
“What about our ammunition?”
“That depends on how hard and long we have to fight. We have enough for several large battles, but that’s if. Once it’s gone, it’s gone, and it does not look like our good friends in the navy will be able to break the American blockade and deliver more to us.”
Weyler was saddened. “So, unless something dramatic happens, in a few months we will be starving and weaponless.”
Villate shook his head angrily. “Welcome to the newest version of the Spanish Empire in the New World.”
* * *
Haney stood beside Diego Valdez and looked at the mass of humanity penned up in a large field and loosely guarded by poorly armed Cuban rebels. He estimated at least ten thousand of people were milling around. Almost all of them looked confused and dispirited, and many were bruised and injured. He noticed that they all looked dirty and hungry. These were the human refuse that Villate had cast out to either fend for themselves or be fed by the American Army.
“Diego, my friend, just what the hell do you plan on doing with these poor people?”
“We will separate the wheat from the chaff. I have my women searching the women from Havana for any hidden weapons or anything else that might identify them as spies. Maria Vasquez leads that effort.”
Haney leered. “What about prostitutes?”
Valdez chuckled. “Those we let go right away. They help the economy.”
Several brothels had sprung up around the American Army and so far Hancock had done nothing to stop prostitution beyond ordering the whores to stay out of sight. Also, numbers of Cuban women had taken up informal relationships with American soldiers. It was the way of war as it had been since time immemorial.
“And the men?” Haney asked.
“Notice please, that there are very few men of military age in the camp. It appears that Villate and Weyler are keeping them back in Havana. If they are not drafted into the army, they will be used as laborers to help shore up the city’s defenses. Of course, they’ll be working right where we’re shelling the city. The poor bastards will be lucky to survive the war. If we don’t kill them, the Spanish will work them to death. I would say they will treat them like dogs, but dogs might have a better chance of surviving.”
“Helluva thing,” Haney said. “No wonder the Cubans want the Spanish gone.”
“And you Yankees, too,” Valdez said with a chuckle. Haney knew the man well enough to know that he wasn’t kidding.
* * *
Custer stared at the man in disbelief. “You bastard! What are you doing here? Have you come here to gloat? Wasn’t it enough that you captured me?”
Spanish Navy Commander Clemente Cisneros bowed. They were alone in the privacy of Custer’s apartment. “I am here to do no such thing. Quite frankly, President Custer, I am here to protect you. You may not be aware but my little warship has been stripped of its guns so that those weapons can be incorporated into the defenses of Havana. While I regret the move, I recognize its necessity. My ship would have been devoured by your navy’s larger warships as little more than a snack. Or haven’t you noticed that every day there are at least a dozen American ships just off the entrance to the harbor and just out of range of our shore guns.”