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Thread: The Second Confederate-Mexican War: An AoN battle AAR

  1. #1
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    The Second Confederate-Mexican War: An AoN battle AAR

    Well, here goes. My first foray into the AAR world. This is based of my actual Second Mexican War in my recently completed campaign with the CSA in Age of Nationalism. Thanks to the AoN team for putting out such a badass mod, and for finally letting us all download and enjoy it. Now, onwards.

    Oh, PS. Any characterizations, portrayals, outlooks, etc. of historical people are all my invention, and in no way reflect how the historical person felt about the issue/person/whatever.



    ------------------------------


    May 11, 1875 - Matamoros, Texas

    The Confederate headquarters for the Department of the
    Trans-Mississippi was a dusty sun bleached set of wooden and adobe buildings on the outskirts of the Texan town of Matamoros.Sentries in the newly approved butternut uniforms stood guard in the already blistering heat of spring. General James Longstreet sat with his back to a set of open windows, sweating in the heat as he read the latest news
    from Montgomery.

    Pulling idly at the ends of his grey mustache, he leaned forward, taking a long draught from a glass of iced tea. The glass was slippery in his hands as the condensation ran down its' sides.

    The President had spoken to Congress assembled, and they had voted overwhelmingly for war with Mexico. That meant that soon Longstreet would be heading south.

    A knock at the door announced the arrival of his adjutant, Major Peters.

    "Afternoon General. Hot one today."

    Longstreet glared at the younger man. He had made a bet with him when he had arrived from his post in Tennessee, that the weather here couldn't possibly be any hotter than Nashville in July. Peters was looking forward to collecting soon. Longstreet decided to jump straight to business.

    "Hrmph. President Beauregard's spoken to Congress. It's war with Mexico."

    Peters' eyebrow rose, then fell as he stepped forward, handing Longstreet a sheaf of papers. "You'll be wanting these then. Our troop strengths, as of this morning."

    Longstreet looked down. Seventeen thousand infantry, sixty five hundred cavalry, and 10 field pieces.

    "Also, this" Peters handed him a freshly decoded wire from Richmond.

    "Braxton Bragg's coming out with another 20,000 men from New Orleans. Imagine that."

    Peters shared a laugh with the general. The President and Bragg both hailed from Louisiana, and many of Beauregard's supporters in the election of '73 were already beginning to hitch their wagon to Bragg. Anywhere the Confederate army went, Braxton Bragg was sure to be, until he could get himself elected.

    "In any case, he'll be camping in Pecos, waiting for some of the Texan regiments to be called up before he heads west. We're to attack south directly into Tampico. When can we march?"

    Peters paused a moment, his eyes looking slight upward as he processed the information. "Six hours, give or take. The infantry can march within the hour, but we need supplies for the horses and limbers for the guns."

    "We'll wait for them. Six hours it is, Major. Dismissed."

    Peters saluted, and performed a smart about-face, macrhing quickly out of the office. Longstreet rose, walking out of the office himself and out into the hot sun. His hat provided good shade as he mounted his horse, a magnificent animal from Virginia, and rode towards the cavalry stables. He wanted to speak to Colonel Smith about getting some forward recoinnance across the border into Tampico tonight. He knew the Mexicans had troops
    down there, but it had been months since he'd heard any concrete numbers.

    The ride across the compund was short, as the headquarters was usually the least active in the Confederacy.
    Dismounting in front of the cavalry division's headquarters, Longstreet returned the salutes of the two privates on
    guard duty as he walked inside to discuss reconnoitering across the Rio Grande.
    Last edited by EmprorCoopinius; 24-10-2002 at 09:39.

  2. #2
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    May 11, 1875 - 31'st Infantry Regiment campgrounds, Matamoros, Texas.


    "By company, fall in!"

    The familar call roused Private John Cooper out of a hazy half-dream as he scrambled out of his bunk, feet slamming into the dusty wooden floor with a thud. No matter how many times the company swept in here, it was always dusty again by the next afternoon.

    Pulling his boots on quickly with the ease born of practice, he pushed his campaign hat down on his head as he snagged his rifle and ran out of the barracks. The men were still filling the lines as John took his spot and snapped his rifle up against his shoulder.

    The company being mostly assembled, Captain Stephen Johnston stepped up onto a rickety overturned crate to address his men.

    "I have just been informed that on May 9, at 11 o'clock in the morning, that a state of war has existed between the Confederate States and Mexico."

    A silence born of surprise, then the first cheer, then tens, then all of the men of John's company had their hats off, yelling and screaming into the air. Captain Johnston grinned bemusedly as his men celebrated. Being in such an exalted position as company command meant he couldn't throw his hat and holler, but he agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly.

    Clearing his throat, the Captain waited for the cheering to die down before he continued.

    "As such, the Army of the Gulf Coast has been ordered to move south to invade Mexico. We march in six hours."

    A hush fell over the men again at the news. Somehow the idea of war, and the reality of actually marching to face it, seemed two different things.

    "All men are to draw five days supply of ammunition and a weeks supply of food from the quartermaster. Water as well. It's hot in Mexico, hotter than here. I know you Carolina boys don't believe that, but if you don't now you will in a week or so."

    Johnston was a Texan, while the 31'st was a South Carolinian regiment, recently transferred to the Trans-Mississippi.

    "Remember boys we've got General Longstreet, and a finer general you can't find on this continent. Prepare yourselves and you'll be fine. Dismissed!"

    The men drifted away from the company area, some of them in a rush to get ready, but most of them doing as John was, wandering around the company area. Six hours was a long time, and John doubted it'd take any more than forty minutes to do everything he needed to do.

    War. Such an alien concept to him. He'd only enlisted eight months back out of a lack of anything better to do. He had finished his schooling, but had neither the money nor the inclination for college. The army had seemed a good idea, at least offering the chance for something to do. Heh. Action wasn't something he sought now that it had found him.

    Kicking a clod of dirt into the air, he wheeled back towards his barracks, to get ready for the march south, and to write a letter to his mother.




    -----------------------


    May 11, 1875 - 1600 hrs., Matamoros, Texas


    The letter had been short, but to the point,. No point in beating around the bush, John thought. 'Going to Mexico to fight. Hope I don't get killed. Love, John'. That was the long and short of it.

    The pack on his back felt like it weighed half again as much as it did, but John knew it would only get worse, not better. Captain Johnston rode by on his grey charger, offering words of encouragement to the company standard bearers. Off to the left, John could see the esteemed personage himself, General Longstreet, surrounded by aides and officers.

    'I sure hope he's a good as the Captain thinks he is.'

    John didn't hear the order to march, but a shove from behind did the trick just as well. The men around him started whistling 'Dixie', and John found himself joining in as the Army of the Gulf Coast snaked its' way down into Mexico.
    Last edited by EmprorCoopinius; 28-10-2002 at 01:33.

  3. #3
    Serf juszuf7's Avatar

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    Anz chance for a screenie?

    I have not downloaded AoN yet. Do you still have the PTI in central US?
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    The plastic things on the end of shoelaces are called aglets.
    The Sanskrit word for war translates as 'wanting more cows.'

    For more interesting facts visit the Random facts site

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    En Til'Za shawng1's Avatar
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    Very interesting. And pretty well written too. The differing points of view add flavor. Keep going.

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    Wizzaard Estonianzulu's Avatar
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    Cool! Lets see Johnny Reb kick some bambito butts... err I mean, good luck fighting the valiant warriors of mexico!

    (No insult meant to any mexicans, or Southerners for that matter )
    LibrAARian of the EU1 LibrAARy and the EU1 LibrAARy updates
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  6. #6
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    juszuf7: A screenie will definitely be forthcoming, pending me learning how to take one, then learning how to post it. Matamoros in the AoN is in the Rio Grande province, if that helps any better. And yes, the central US still has a white blob of PTI.

    shawng1: Thanks. I've read and thoroughly enjoyed both your Prussian and Geldern AAR's. Great to have you aboard.

    Estonianzulu: No offense taken, being a Johnny Reb myself.

    Update this afternoon after I take my Roman Revolution test.

  7. #7
    Serf juszuf7's Avatar

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    To take a screenie you have to press F11 during gameplay. The picture will be saved to C:\Program Files\Strategy First\Europe Universalis directory (the Strategy First part might vary depending on your version of EU2). Then you should use some sort of a picture editor (like Photoshop or ACDSee), cut out the unneccessary parts and convert the picture to JPG format.

    Finally, go to www.icarusindie.com and sign in for a free web space. You will get 50 Mb space which is more than enough for your lifetime
    Walt Disney had wooden teeth.
    The plastic things on the end of shoelaces are called aglets.
    The Sanskrit word for war translates as 'wanting more cows.'

    For more interesting facts visit the Random facts site

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    CareBear Eochaid's Avatar
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    Great start! Very enjoyable, even if I don't play AoN.

    Maybe you could put the final version of this battle AAR in the thread "Fields of glory: Tales of Blood and Honour." It was created for that purpose!
    Reading makes a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man - Francis Bacon

  9. #9
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    Eochaid: Cetainly. There will be many battles though, since this is about the whole war, not just one battle, but I'd be happy to contribute.

    Thanks to everyone who's been reading and responding so far. As promised, test over, new update.

    Oh, and ' ' are thoughts




    May 14, 1875 - Montgomery, Alabama - Davis House


    The gas lanterns burned brightly in the warm spring evening, casting a bright glow on the streets of the Confederate capitol. President Pierre Gustave Toutant Beauregard stood leaning against the window of the Presidential residence, his mind eight hundred miles away. The cigar in his hand was Cuban, imported from the newly independent Republic of Cuba on the northernmost tip of the island. The whisky was from Tennessee. He took a sip, relishing the warm rush as it slid down his throat, and chewed on one of the ice cubes from the glass. The streets were quiet at this hour. Despite being the capital of a nation, Montgomery could only boast perhaps 10,000 inhabitants.

    Turning away from the window, he took a draw off the cigar and wandered over to the large map hanging on the wall of the North American continent. His fingers traced the route of march for Longstreet and Bragg, down into the desert. He looked at Forrest, in Tennessee with twenty thousand, ready to move west if needed. Satisfying himself with the present, his thoughts, as always when thinking of campaigning or war, turned to the past. Of old habit, they traced the route taken by Longstreet, and himself, and the departed great Lee in the first war against the Mexicans, back in 1862. He sipped the whisky again as he recalled, his eyes and hands tracing the first advances, the battles and the victories and the marches south. He took another sip as his mind followed itself down this inexorable path again, down south to the defeats, the sieges and starvations, the assualts on the Mexican fortresses. The stunning good luck of the first year of the war was suddenly reversed, and he had found himself relieved when news of the armistice had reached him in Mexico.

    'We made them hand us the rest of Texas, but it wasn't a victory. 40,000 dead Southern boys, J.E.B Stuart killed on the ramparts of Veracruz....not worth it by half.'

    Confederate merchants and traders plied the stock markets of North America extensively...not really Beauregard's area of expertise, but the excellent planning of his predecessor, President Stephens, had ensured they would remain in business pretty much in perpetuity. Where Beauregard did excel, however, was put very much into evidence when the Mexicans refused the Confederates access to their agents in Veracruz, and even forbade them to send any more south. Beauregard seized this chance with both hands, as all the world could see what a slap in the face this was to the Confederate government. He summarily forbade all Mexican agents from crossing the border, and he quickly deported those merchants still trying to ply some sort of a trade in New Orleans. His speech to Congress on the 9'th had been brilliant, if he did say so himself, and he allowed himself a slight smile as he sat behind the impressive oaken desk dominating the back half of the room.

    He ashed his cigar and finished the glass of whisky, letting it sit dry on the corner of his desk. His eye wandered to the clock, and he saw it was four minutes to eleven. Secretary Hampton should be here soon.

    As soon as the thought was cogent, he heard a discreet knock on the door. Smiling more openly now, he stood as Secretary of War Wade Hampton walked into the room.

    "Good evening Mr. President."

    "Evening Wade. How're things over at the War Department coming along?"

    Hampton smiled at the President's question. "Well, sir, as you know, General Longstreet has crossed the Rio Grande with twenty four thousand men. General Bragg's army is currently beginning to unload in San Antonio, he should be ready to march by tomorrow evening, and General Forrest is in Nashville with another twenty thosand, awaiting your orders."

    "Excellent, Wade, excellent. Do the good General-in-Chief a whole world of good to ge into the field again. Tell him I want him to move out as soon as possible for El Paso, where he's to take on some Texan and Arkansan recruits, and then drive for the Pacific."

    Hampton nodded, the orders quickly confirmed to memory. "Anything else, Mr. President?"

    "Not unless you foresee any problems with the governors letting us use their track for a while."

    Hampton chuckled a bit. "No sir, they've all pledged their full cooperation to the war effort, even the Marylanders. Most of them have even started raising and equiping regiments for federal use. Everyone's eager for another round with the Mexicanos."

    Beauregard nodded, and Hampton, recognizing the dismissal, bade his farewell. The President's eyes turned back to the map and he lit another cigar, inhaling sharply as he remembered.

    Remembered, and hated.
    Last edited by EmprorCoopinius; 28-10-2002 at 01:34.

  10. #10
    Wizzaard Estonianzulu's Avatar
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    Montgomery? Capital?? What happened to Richmond?!?!
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  11. #11
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    You get an event giving you a choice between Montgomery and Richmond. Montgomery is where the delegates originally met to form the government, it wasn't moved to Richmond till later. I chose to keep mine in Montgomery.

  12. #12
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    More updating, la de dah


    ------------------------------



    May 16, 1875 - south of the Rio Grande, Mexican province of Tampico.

    Colonel Shelton Smith looked at the sky, and smiled as clouds rolled across the moon. Perfect weather for a scouting party.

    The lanky Tennessean turned away from the sky and rode back to the tarps strung out to avoid the intermittent rain showers that had been rolling in off the Gulf most of the day. Smith's scouting party was gathering there, a Captain Stiles and twelve other non-coms. They wore dark ponchos made of rubber, an innovation that still looked odd to Smith's eye.

    "Everything ready Captain?"

    "Yessir. We're ready to move out."

    "Excellent. Remember, find their positions, but do not engage." Confederate cavalry had a rather -- marked propensity to want to engage whoever they found, with little regard given to things such as numbers. At least, they had in his day. Now it was time to see if the new breed had the same style, but not tonight.
    "General Longstreet's depending on this recoinnance." It was almost the same thing he had said the previous four nights, but the young men still took it seriously, almost deadly seriously.

    The Captain nodded and saluted, which Smith returned. The thirteen scouts rode away from the tarp and quickly vanished into the damp night.

    Grunting, Smith turned away, riding slowly despite the weather towards the headquarters tents.


    ---------------------------


    Rain.

    First hellishly hot, now miserably wet.

    It hardly seemed a good way to start a war to John.

    Sighing, the private leaned back into the thin pillow and stared at the top of the tent, listening to the patter of rain droplets hitting its' sides. They had crossed the Rio Grande on the morning of the 12'th, and had been progressing ever southward under the Mexican sun. Still no sign of any enemy armies or even militia. The ground here was sandy, sucking your feet downwards until it became an effort to walk normally, never mind the pack and the ammunition and the rifle. The rifle, which had seemed so light when they first taught him to shoot it, seemed ten pounds heavier. It was not what the young man had expected.

    'Still', he reflected, 'it could be worse. I could be in the artllery, trying to drag a cannon through this shit.'

    Shaking his head in an effort to clear the nagging thought out, he buried his face in the pillow, or rather wrapped the pillow around his face, and fell into a fitful sleep.


    ------------------------


    "General Longstreet!"

    Longstreet muttered and sat up. He had fallen asleep at his desk. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he waved Moajor Peters forward.

    "Yes Major?"

    "Sir, the scouting party has come in. Rather, most of them have come in - they've found the Mexicans."

    Longstreet looked up, his hand falling away from his face immediately. "THey were to avoid contact."

    "They did sir. Apparently they found the Mexican positions, marked them on their maps, recoinnoitered about, then were on their way back when the found a Mexican patrol."

    "Doing the same, no doubt, as they were."

    "No doubt. That's when they started shooting. One man's dead, thre others wounded."

    Longstreet nodded, motioning for and accepting the maps and reports on troop strength Peters had.

    "What time is it?"

    "3:45 in the morning, General."

    Longstreet grunted, then stood, stretching.

    "Wake the men up in an hour. Don't blow reveille. Do it quietly. I want us ready to march by five."

    Peters nodded, and turned to go.

    "Major."

    "Yes sir?"

    "A pot of coffee, if you please."


    ----------------------------


    Tomorrow, the Battle of Tampico

  13. #13
    Prodigal Son Craig Ashley's Avatar

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    Very interesting. I've taken a real interest in the Civil War in the last year or so, and I'm interested to see how this shakes out.

    Strange the Bragg is one of your commanders. He really was a rather poor general in RL. What are his stats?

    I know you said everything in here is made up, but I must mention that James Longstreet was not known as an early riser. Stonewall Jackson was and made his men do the same. Longstreet was a little slower to get everthing together, but once he was set, there were few better.

    Not trying to quibble, just commenting. Hope you don't mind. Great start and I'm glad to see you finally started your own AAR. I really enjoy your writing in the FC, and I'm looking forward to more of it.
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    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    CA: Bragg's a 3/2/2 - pretty shoddy as you said. He's ranked as a general though, thanks to his commands in the western theater during the real war, I imagine.

    As for Longstreet, I didn't know that, but he was awakened by his adjutant because he fell asleep at his desk. He's moving at 5 so he can attack earlier. I've read the same as you about Jackson. Pity he dies in 1862, he has some nice stats, second only to Lee's.

    Comments always welcome and appreciated. Thanks for dropping by.

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    Wizzaard Estonianzulu's Avatar
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    Where did you get this scenario? The AON file didnt have it.
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    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    May 17, 1875 - 0620, fifty miles south of Matamoros.


    Rising early was never a virtue of Longstreet's, and every time he did it he remembered why. The pot of coffee Peters had sent had helped, but the only thing that had kept him awake were the scouting reports, and hasty orders being scribbled as a plan formed in his mind.

    The Army of the Gulf Coast wound its' way southward, dust rising in its' wake but not yet visible to prying eyes as the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. The maps the scouts had used to mark the Mexican position and their reports showed a shallow ridge about two miles north of their camp, no more than twenty feet high. It ran about a hundred yards, dipped and flattened out with the ground again for about seventy feet, and rose on the other side before petering out into the sand fifty feet down the way. It was as good a defenive position as existed here, and Longstreet intended to hold it and make the Mexicans come to him.

    The vanguard rode back, reporting they had found the rise, and Longstreet sped up the pace of the march. Acting on prearranged orders, the cannon peeled away from the column, under light guard as they were lugged to the top of the rise by their horses and men. The infantry advanced about a hundred yards through the gap between the hills, and the first regiments began digging firing pits, as the rest of the infantry filled in the position, a shallow wedge-shaped defensive front spread out to the bases of the hills.

    Longstreet's horse picked it's way to one of the sandy hilltops and he watched as the first of the cannons was drug forward. He looked down, to see the infantrymen digging in across a wide stretch of land. Satisfied, he rode back down, to the cavalrymen, who were assembling in two wings behind the hills. The plan was simple, but effective. Draw them into an advance by leaving the infantry exposed, then use the cannon fire to soften them up, then envelop with the cavalry wings as they stretched out to engage the infantry.

    On paper, at least, it was simple and effective. The real test would come later.


    -------------------------


    May 17, 1875 - 0710, north of the city of Tampico


    General Antonin de Salazar was not a happy man. The war itself bothered him little, for what hope does a general have of winning glory if there is no war? No, what bothered him were the scouting patrols coming back to camp shot up and telling foolish stories. They said they had seen the camp for an entire army, not just a few regiments, as Mexico City had told him. They said 20,000 men, maybe more were in Mexico at this moment, driving southwards towards the city.

    Salazar had laughed in the wonded man's face. 20,000 Confederates? Had they that many soldiers in their pitiful little scrap of land? Of course not! Mexico City had told him that three, perhaps four regiments had moved south of Matamoros, and another three or four had invaded Chihuahua. His orders had been to sweep the enemy away from Tampico, then travel northwestwards, crush the invaders in Chihuahua and take the fight to Texas. For this glorious task he had 32,000 men, and while they could not be said to be veterans, he had no doubt they could deal with this yanqui rabble easily.

    His horse, a splendid white charger, responded beautifully to his will as he dropped back to speak with one of his staff.

    "We simply must move faster Velasquez. This little show de force from the Confederates needs to be nipped in the bud. March faster."

    The staff officer simply nodded, knowing by now how useless it was to argue with Salazar when he was like this. The sun was rising and soon they would have to slow down, if he wanted any more out of them when they met the Confederates than a rout. Still, what de Salazar ordered, de Salazar got.

    The army moved faster.


    ------------------------------


    0930, Longstreet's positions


    Nine thiry in the moring and John's shirt was already sticking to him in all the most annoying places. At least this damnable pit was almost finished.

    Throwing yet another shovelful of dirt out of the hole, he watched as Sergeant Cheek walked by, his veteran eyes assessing and gradinge everything the newbies did.

    "Good enough," he offered to John, who took that as praise from on high and sat down, wiping his forehead and putting his cap back on his head.

    "Old Cheeko say we're good?"

    "Yeah." John looked up to see the soldier he was sharing this pit with, a short little guy from the Upstate named Bob Dickens.

    "Good. Here's your canteen." John accepted the metel canteen and nodded his thanks, taking a long draught to try and wash some of the sand out of his mouth.

    Bob slid back into the hole and picked up his rifle. sighting it over the lip of the pit.

    "Mighty fine rifles they've got for us in the army. Never had one like this back home."

    John nodded, he hadn't either. The Columbia Model 11's were indeed a pretty rifle, a repeater with a lever action. 15 shot magazine, and you could unload those fifteen shots in 10 seconds. He'd heard it was based on a Yankee gun, but it didn't bother John like it might bother some of the other men. Just the fact that the South could copy and produce something like this made him feel more than good enough.

    Bob continued on, "Yeah, these Palmettos sure will give the Mexicans the shits once they get a dose of 'em. Just like the water down here."

    John laughed as he picked his rifle up and looked at the barrel. All of the rifles were manufactured at the Columbia and Charleston armories, in South Carolina. Both of them stamped the palmetto tree on the barrel, one of the symbols of the state. Soldiers had taken to calling them Palmettos almost as soon as they were issued.

    "You might be right there Bob. Course, a gun can't do all the fightin' for you. If it could, we could all go home."

    "Amen to that!" Bob replied, and John laughed again as he leaned back against the 'wall' of the pit and waited.
    Last edited by EmprorCoopinius; 29-10-2002 at 03:38.

  17. #17
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    Estonian: It's not a scenario, it's a story from one of the games I've played as the CSA.

  18. #18
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    Hmm. Is mexico worth conquering? I'd imagine in the AON it's largely quite poor.
    I am therefore officially rooting for a Franco-German strike on Russia, prompting the Soviets to strike back with their hitherto secret nukes. This will serve as a salutary lesson to all involved and leave everyone suitably chastened.-El Pip

    Great War: The American Front: Can the United States defeat Britain and its Confederate Lackeys? Or will the CSA defend its freedom against the Yankee Menace?

  19. #19
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    Good point. It isn't really. But the good President was looking for any reason to go to war with the Mexicans, and they obligingly delivered. A sign from God, surely.

    And in game terms, no reason to let all these good generals go to waste. Well, except for Bragg.

  20. #20
    Major EmprorCoopinius's Avatar
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    For anyone interested, the Palmetto rifles aren't a figment of my imagination. They're copies of rifles that really did see action in the Civil War.

    Henry Repeating Rifles

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