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Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction December 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
Remember the
Alamo!
By R. R. FEHRENBACH
THIS IS, I THINK, ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL COMMENTS ON THE MODERN SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY I HAVE SEEN--A REALLY BLOOD-CHILLING LITTLE TALE....
ILLUSTRATED BY SCHOENHERR
* * * * *
Toward sundown, in the murky drizzle, the man who called himself Ordbrought Lieutenant colonel William Barrett Travis word that the Mexicanlight cavalry had completely invested Bexar, and that some light guns werebeing set up across the San Antonio River. Even as he spoke, there was aflash and bang from the west, and a shell screamed over the old missionwalls. Travis looked worried.
]
"What kind of guns?" he asked.
"Nothing to worry about, sir," Ord said. "Only a few one-pounders, nothingof respectable siege caliber. General Santa Anna has had to move too fastfor any big stuff to keep up." Ord spoke in his odd accent. After all, hewas a Britainer, or some other kind of foreigner. But he spoke goodSpanish, and he seemed to know everything. In the four or five days sincehe had appeared he had become very useful to Travis.
Frowning, Travis asked, "How many Mexicans, do you think, Ord?"
"Not more than a thousand, now," the dark-haired, blue-eyed young man saidconfidently. "But when the main body arrives, there'll be four, fivethousand."
Travis shook his head. "How do you get all this information, Ord? Yourecite it like you had read it all some place--like it were history."
Ord merely smiled. "Oh, I don't know _everything_, colonel. That is why Ihad to come here. There is so much we don't know about what happened.... Imean, sir, what will happen--in the Alamo." His sharp eyes grew puzzled foran instant. "And some things don't seem to match up, somehow--"
Travis looked at him sympathetically. Ord talked queerly at times, andTravis suspected he was a bit deranged. This was understandable, for theman was undoubtedly a Britainer aristocrat, a refugee from Napoleon'sthousand-year Empire. Travis had heard about the detention camps and thecharcoal ovens ... but once, when he had mentioned the _Empereur's_ sack ofLondon in '06, Ord had gotten a very queer look in his eyes, as if he hadforgotten completely.
But John Ord, or whatever his name was, seemed to be the only man in theTexas forces who understood what William Barrett Travis was trying to do.Now Travis looked around at the thick adobe wall surrounding the oldmission in which they stood. In the cold, yellowish twilight even theflaring cook fires of his hundred and eighty-two men could not dispel theghostly air that clung to the old place. Travis shivered involuntarily. Butthe walls were thick, and they could turn one-pounders. He asked, "What wasit you called this place, Ord ... the Mexican name?"
"The Alamo, sir." A slow, steady excitement seemed to burn in theBritainer's bright eyes. "Santa Anna won't forget that name, you can besure. You'll want to talk to the other officers now, sir? About the messagewe drew up for Sam Houston?"
"Yes, of course," Travis said absently. He watched Ord head for the walls.No doubt about it, Ord understood what William Barrett Travis was trying todo here. So few of the others seemed to care.
Travis was suddenly very glad that John Ord had shown up when he did.
On the walls, Ord found the man he sought, broad-shouldered and tall in afancy Mexican jacket. "The commandant's compliments, sir, and he desiresyour presence in the chapel."
The big man put away the knife with which he had been whittling. Theswitchblade snicked back and disappeared into a side pocket of the jacket,while Ord watched it with fascinated eyes. "What's old Bill got hisbritches hot about this time?" the big man asked.
"I wouldn't know, sir," Ord said stiffly and moved on.
_Bang-bang-bang_ roared the small Mexican cannon from across the river._Pow-pow-pow!_ The little balls only chipped dust from the thick adobewalls. Ord smiled.
He found the second man he sought, a lean man with a weathered face,leaning against a wall and chewing tobacco. This man wore a long, fringed,leather lounge jacket, and he carried a guitar slung beside his Rock Islandrifle. He squinted up at Ord. "I know ... I know," he muttered. "WillyTravis is in an uproar again. You reckon that colonel's commission thatCongress up in Washington-on-the-Brazos give him swelled his head?"
Rather stiffly, Ord said, "Colonel, the commandant desires an officers'conference in the chapel, now." Ord was somewhat annoyed. He had notrealized he would find these Americans so--distasteful. Hardly preferableto Mexicans, really. Not at all as he had imagined.
For an instant he wished he had chosen Drake and the Armada instead of thispack of ruffians--but no, he had never been able to stand sea sickness. Hecouldn't have taken the Channel, not even for five minutes.
And there was no changing now. He had chosen this place and time carefully,at great expense--actually, at great risk, for the X-4-A had aborted twice,and he had had a hard time bringing her in. But it had got him here atlast. And, because for a historian he had always been an impetuous anddaring man, he grinned now, thinking of the glory that was to come. And hewas a participant--much better than a ringside seat! Only he would have tobe careful, at the last, to slip away.
John Ord knew very well how this coming battle had ended, back here in1836.
He marched back to William Barrett Travis, clicked heels smartly. Travis'eyes glowed; he was the only senior officer here who loved militarypunctilio. "Sir, they are on the way."
"Thank you, Ord," Travis hesitated a moment. "Look, Ord. There will be abattle, as we know. I know so little about you. If something should happento you, is there anyone to write? Across the water?"
Ord grinned. "No, sir. I'm afraid my ancestor wouldn't understand."
Travis shrugged. Who was he to say that Ord was crazy? In this day and age,any man with vision was looked on as mad. Sometimes he felt closer to Ordthan to the others.
* * * * *
The two officers Ord had summoned entered the chapel. The big man in theMexican jacket tried to dominate the wood table at which they sat. Hetowered over the slender, nervous Travis, but the commandant,straight-backed and arrogant, did not give an inch. "Boys, you know SantaAnna has invested us. We've been fired on all day--" He seemed to belistening for something. _Wham!_ Outside, a cannon split the dusk withflame and sound as it fired from the walls. "There is my answer!"
The man in the lounge coat shrugged. "What I want to know is what ourorders are. What does old Sam say? Sam and me were in Congress once. Sam'sgot good sense; he can smell the way the wind's blowin'." He stoppedspeaking and hit his guitar a few licks. He winked across the table at theofficer in the Mexican jacket who took out his knife. "Eh, Jim?"
"Right," Jim said. "Sam's a good man, although I don't think he ever met apayroll."
"General Houston's leaving it up to me," Travis told them.
"Well, that's that," Jim said unhappily. "So what you figurin' to do,Bill?"
Travis stood up in the weak, flickering candlelight, one hand on thepolished hilt of his saber. The other two men winced, watching him."Gentlemen, Houston's trying to pull his militia together while he fallsback. You know, Texas was woefully unprepared for a contest at arms. Thegeneral's idea is to draw Santa Anna as far into Texas as he can, then hithim when he's extended, at the right place, and right time. But Hou
stonneeds more time--Santa Anna's moved faster than any of us anticipated.Unless we can stop the Mexican Army and take a little steam out of them,General Houston's in trouble."
Jim flicked the knife blade in and out. "Go on."
"This is where we come in, gentlemen. Santa Anna can't leave a force of onehundred eighty men in his rear. If we hold fast, he must attack us. But hehas no siege equipment, not even large field cannon." Travis' eye gleamed."Think of it, boys! He'll have to mount a frontal attack, against protectedAmerican riflemen. Ord, couldn't your Englishers tell him a few thingsabout that!"
"Whoa, now," Jim barked. "Billy, anybody tell you there's maybe