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Chapter 8 - Fatal Moonlight
The moonlight shone off José’s bayonet, and he felt that he could almost hear it shining. His heart was racing, but he himself was moving slowly. He was desperately try to make as little noise as possible, creeping through or past the few trees that were in front of him. He ducked and dived past boughs and trunks, moving slowly so to make not a crack of noise.
He could see the wall, a mere palisade compared to the rest of the wall which was stone, and advanced towards it, speeding up the closer he got. The Captain strode to the right of José, pistol in hand, with the rest of the whole regiment on his left. All were advancing in, for once, a skirmish formation. This was not on purpose, but simply because the companies could not keep together in formation while in the tree cover.
The men crept out of the tree line, only a few metres from the wall. José gave a quick look around at his comrades. The one furthest ahead of the troops, Alejandro, began to scamper towards the wall, moving further away from the others with every passing moment.
Suddenly, a single shot rang out, flying into Alejandro’s shoulder. The man quickly fell to the ground. José froze on the spot, seeming almost scared of the dark that engulfed him and all of his fellow troops. Shouts in both English and Mexican were now clear to hear. All the defenders now came to man the walls, and shots flung out from all angles of the Alamo. The moonlight was outshone by the light of musket fire, and blotched out by the smoke of cannon and shot.
The Captain, resplendent in his hat, was a prime target for the Tejians, who quickly capitalised on the situation. Some Mexicans rushed to the wall, hoping to take cover in the ditch just below the wall. It was in vain, as they were shot either as they reached it or when they were there. The best hope was to get back to the tree line, where the dark and the tree would make a harder job for the Tejian shots to penetrate.
Far behind him, back closer to the town, José heard a single voice cry out ‘Viva Santa Anna!!’ and this was replied to by the calling of a charge. The rest of the force was on the way, and José hoped some pressure would be taken off them. However, the Tejians did not let up their fire, sending lead ball after lead ball into the dark wood. Whenever a Mexican dared to appear from the tree line, he would immediately be taken down by 2 or 3 shots from the fort.
José took aim in the general direction of the fort, and fired his musket, sending smoke puffing into the air. His musket cracked upwards as he fired, but he wasn’t intending to reload. He fell back, turning towards the town and running as fast as he could manage.
He was had just enough time to get out of the forest before a huge burst of lead hailed into the forest, sending men flying into the trees with its force. It was a fearful sight. It was certainly not how José wanted to end. As the lead embedded itself into dirt or flesh, a ghostly mist followed it. It swept away the humid feeling of the forest. After it had been, all that could be heard was the fait cries of the not quite dead of that terrible weapon that had been used against them.
José turned round to flee once more, but was met with an opportunity he could not refuse…..
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War is hell! Poor old Jose seems to be finding that out the hard way... I must say it bodes ill for los Mexicanos if the garrison of the Alamo are putting them to flight! Just how great is that numerical advantage exactly?
And yeah... cliffhangers... Not impressed
!
And yeah... cliffhangers... Not impressed
!
Numbers were:
Mexican:
around 6,000 men in the siege
1,200 in assault
20 guns
Texian:
somwhere between 180-250 men
21 guns
yes so pretty uneven sides
Mexican:
around 6,000 men in the siege
1,200 in assault
20 guns
Texian:
somwhere between 180-250 men
21 guns
yes so pretty uneven sides
… running towards him was Colonel Morales, Colonel of the Morelos Regiment, with the next wave of the assault force. José’s heart leapt and courage re-filled his limbs. The Mexicans came running past, about 400 in number, along with the godsend of siege ladders. As the Colonel drew closer, he saw several Mexicans, including José, staggering out of the misty forest. He was the only thing that could possibly keep them from running back to Mexico.
‘Mexicans! Forward to the walls! I am your standard and your leader! Onward for Mother Mexico!’ shouted the Colonel, his voice a true illumination of pure confidence. A shout from the troops followed ‘Viva Santa Anna! Viva Mexico!’ The words ‘Viva Santa Anna!’ then echoed its way around the Alamo as forces on all sides of the beleaguered fort began to charge the walls.
As the Colonel and his troops past José, troops carrying siege ladders broke away from the formations and raced towards the walls ahead of them. José ran over to the formations of troops now forming up behind the Colonel, who had stopped 100 yards from the forts walls.
‘Form ranks and prepare to give covering fire to the ladder bearers!’ shouted the colonel. Formations of fifty or sixty men began to amalgamate. José snuck into a unit and levelled his musket, which had not yet been fired that night. The Colonel, lacking other officers, took his position at the front of the line and, standing majestically, unsheathing his sword.
Razing his beautifully curved sword high in the air, the Colonel uttered the words that, in José’s head, were immortal.
‘A Punten!’ the muskets answered with resounding clicks of the locks being cocked back into firing position.
‘FUEGO!’ The line fired its weapons, sending hundreds of pieces of lead flying at the Alamo. It was frightening for José. He had never heard such a concentrated amount of fire from so close. He began to think of what it would be like to be on the receiving end of such firepower, but his thoughts were interrupted by an order from the Colonel.
‘Forward to the walls men! Follow me!’ shouted the Colonel before he set off, wielding his sword straight towards the defenders. The large formation began running forwards to the wall….
‘Mexicans! Forward to the walls! I am your standard and your leader! Onward for Mother Mexico!’ shouted the Colonel, his voice a true illumination of pure confidence. A shout from the troops followed ‘Viva Santa Anna! Viva Mexico!’ The words ‘Viva Santa Anna!’ then echoed its way around the Alamo as forces on all sides of the beleaguered fort began to charge the walls.
As the Colonel and his troops past José, troops carrying siege ladders broke away from the formations and raced towards the walls ahead of them. José ran over to the formations of troops now forming up behind the Colonel, who had stopped 100 yards from the forts walls.
‘Form ranks and prepare to give covering fire to the ladder bearers!’ shouted the colonel. Formations of fifty or sixty men began to amalgamate. José snuck into a unit and levelled his musket, which had not yet been fired that night. The Colonel, lacking other officers, took his position at the front of the line and, standing majestically, unsheathing his sword.
Razing his beautifully curved sword high in the air, the Colonel uttered the words that, in José’s head, were immortal.
‘A Punten!’ the muskets answered with resounding clicks of the locks being cocked back into firing position.
‘FUEGO!’ The line fired its weapons, sending hundreds of pieces of lead flying at the Alamo. It was frightening for José. He had never heard such a concentrated amount of fire from so close. He began to think of what it would be like to be on the receiving end of such firepower, but his thoughts were interrupted by an order from the Colonel.
‘Forward to the walls men! Follow me!’ shouted the Colonel before he set off, wielding his sword straight towards the defenders. The large formation began running forwards to the wall….
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I am sorry to say, that due to an overload in school work, i will have to postpone this AAR for a week or so. VEry sorry for the delay, but i promise that by next weekend i will have the alamo done and dusted.
Sorry for the delay to writing
Rob
Sorry for the delay to writing
Rob
Ok, the time has passed and the work has been done. Therefore there will be an update later today and then two tommorow.
I also feel that during the last few parts, the style and quality of my work was poor and i hope i can improve on that. After we finish the Alamo, a slightly different style will be used.
Regards and Thanks for your patience
Rob
I also feel that during the last few parts, the style and quality of my work was poor and i hope i can improve on that. After we finish the Alamo, a slightly different style will be used.
Regards and Thanks for your patience
Rob
Just a short one today, going to a party so not much time to write a long update.
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….José ran, his legs beginning to ache under the weight of his uniform and musket. Shots flew past, whizzing their deadly course into the men that ran with José. Desperately trying to keep his legs from falling from under him, José stopped dead in his tracks. He certainly would have been dead if another Mexican trooper, running in front of José had not taken a passing bullet for him. José knelt steadying his musket on a dead comrade, his lowered weapon taking aim and an unfortunate rebel on the wall. The other noises of cannon, screams of the wounded and general sounds of battle seemed to all disappear, and all the battle focused on this one man and his musket. The weapon cracked out its smoke and sent a shot towards the walls. The smoke from the gunpowder flew into José’s eyes, temporarily blinding him and disallowing him to see whether he had hit his target.
Undaunted by the grapeshot lacing into the lines of Mexicans, José lifted himself off the ground and once again began running towards the fort on reenergised legs. José’s senses were numbed and all that mattered was the wall. The strides got longer, the speed got faster. Just before the wall was a ditch, and as José threw himself at the depression. His landing was softened by a fellow soldier who was less happy about José’s landing. He turned around onto his back, lying prone to the ground. As he began to reload the musket, another Mexican and a ladder bearer, diving for the ditch, was hit and sent flying down next to José. He grasped the ladder and stood up, raising the wooden ladder against the wall.
‘Come on! Up the ladders!’ he bellowed, acting as if he were an officer. Men all around him began to scramble towards the ladder. One by one they scaled the walls, and eventually it was José’s turn. He grabbed a rung, hauling himself up the wooden equipment. The man ahead of him was hit as he reached the top, and began falling back down. José quickly dodged the falling body. When he reached the top, he found the Tejian reloading his weapon. It was just the luck that José needed. Bringing his full body onto the wall, he lowered his musket and drove the attached bayonet into the man standing in front of him. The Tejian’s expression changed from one of surprise to that of fear and pain. Blood began dripping out of his mouth. José twisted the bayonet and then briskly pulled it out. The Tejian slumped down onto his knees, and then keeled over to the left. The Mexicans were on the walls…
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….José ran, his legs beginning to ache under the weight of his uniform and musket. Shots flew past, whizzing their deadly course into the men that ran with José. Desperately trying to keep his legs from falling from under him, José stopped dead in his tracks. He certainly would have been dead if another Mexican trooper, running in front of José had not taken a passing bullet for him. José knelt steadying his musket on a dead comrade, his lowered weapon taking aim and an unfortunate rebel on the wall. The other noises of cannon, screams of the wounded and general sounds of battle seemed to all disappear, and all the battle focused on this one man and his musket. The weapon cracked out its smoke and sent a shot towards the walls. The smoke from the gunpowder flew into José’s eyes, temporarily blinding him and disallowing him to see whether he had hit his target.
Undaunted by the grapeshot lacing into the lines of Mexicans, José lifted himself off the ground and once again began running towards the fort on reenergised legs. José’s senses were numbed and all that mattered was the wall. The strides got longer, the speed got faster. Just before the wall was a ditch, and as José threw himself at the depression. His landing was softened by a fellow soldier who was less happy about José’s landing. He turned around onto his back, lying prone to the ground. As he began to reload the musket, another Mexican and a ladder bearer, diving for the ditch, was hit and sent flying down next to José. He grasped the ladder and stood up, raising the wooden ladder against the wall.
‘Come on! Up the ladders!’ he bellowed, acting as if he were an officer. Men all around him began to scramble towards the ladder. One by one they scaled the walls, and eventually it was José’s turn. He grabbed a rung, hauling himself up the wooden equipment. The man ahead of him was hit as he reached the top, and began falling back down. José quickly dodged the falling body. When he reached the top, he found the Tejian reloading his weapon. It was just the luck that José needed. Bringing his full body onto the wall, he lowered his musket and drove the attached bayonet into the man standing in front of him. The Tejian’s expression changed from one of surprise to that of fear and pain. Blood began dripping out of his mouth. José twisted the bayonet and then briskly pulled it out. The Tejian slumped down onto his knees, and then keeled over to the left. The Mexicans were on the walls…
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Showing quite a bit of battle iniative is our lad. He'll start being called a hero and getting promoted if he keeps this up
Cousin had a bad back, so party is off....so i can do more writing!!
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.... As José sheltered behind an abandoned cannon reloading his musket, Mexicans began to pop up all over the walls, bayonetting any Tejian that got in their way. Finally, after only fifteen minutes of battle, the walls were being taken. At least, thats what appeared to happening where José was. Flares, fired from rocket launchers light up the dark night sky, and in one case lit up the dry wicker roof of a building. The battlefield was now illuminated in a fire-like red glow. The Tejians were now running from the walls towards the inside buildings, some ducking and diving their way there, some stopping to fire back the the Mexicans. Seldom did they get as far as the buildings, many being shot before they could get further than few feet.
José stood up from his relative cover, taking a general sweep of the situation. Down on his left, where the original wall had ended, the Palisade was still in Tejian hands, but its defenders were becoming more desperate as their irreplaceable men were shot down. On his right, the south wall was being scaled and would soon fall. José immediately saw what was needed to be done. The buildings to which the Tejians were running would have to be taken, then the men could take the Palisade and Church.
He broke from cover, and men behind him instinctively followed him, despite his lack of rank or insignia. He made his way down the ramp, running as quickly as he could. A Tejian that got in his way found a bayonet through his chest, dug deep and twisted, just as José had learnt in basic training. The rebel fell over backwards, smashing into the ground.
Others had now overtaken José on the way to the building. However, luck was once again on José's side. The Tejians who had made the whole run, rushed into the building, closely followed by a few Mexicans. As the Mexicans entered, a thud from the other side of the compound was sent flying into the troops, sending them flying. The grapeshot screamed ahead of José, shocking his eardrums so much so that a constant ringing resounded in them.
As, painfully, his hearing retuned to the sound of battle, other Mexicans ran past him, and into the buildings. Now fully conscious again, José made his way into the building, priming his bayonet in an aggressive posture. He tore into the building, stabbing down into Trenches, dug and manned by the Rebels, that seemed much more like graves then places of defence. José stabbed and stabbed, and each time his bayonet was met with a willing body. How many were there? José counted about a dozen at most, but it seemed to him more like a hundred. However, soon his bayonet had no more stabbing to do, and they could move onto the final goal.....the church.......
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.... As José sheltered behind an abandoned cannon reloading his musket, Mexicans began to pop up all over the walls, bayonetting any Tejian that got in their way. Finally, after only fifteen minutes of battle, the walls were being taken. At least, thats what appeared to happening where José was. Flares, fired from rocket launchers light up the dark night sky, and in one case lit up the dry wicker roof of a building. The battlefield was now illuminated in a fire-like red glow. The Tejians were now running from the walls towards the inside buildings, some ducking and diving their way there, some stopping to fire back the the Mexicans. Seldom did they get as far as the buildings, many being shot before they could get further than few feet.
José stood up from his relative cover, taking a general sweep of the situation. Down on his left, where the original wall had ended, the Palisade was still in Tejian hands, but its defenders were becoming more desperate as their irreplaceable men were shot down. On his right, the south wall was being scaled and would soon fall. José immediately saw what was needed to be done. The buildings to which the Tejians were running would have to be taken, then the men could take the Palisade and Church.
He broke from cover, and men behind him instinctively followed him, despite his lack of rank or insignia. He made his way down the ramp, running as quickly as he could. A Tejian that got in his way found a bayonet through his chest, dug deep and twisted, just as José had learnt in basic training. The rebel fell over backwards, smashing into the ground.
Others had now overtaken José on the way to the building. However, luck was once again on José's side. The Tejians who had made the whole run, rushed into the building, closely followed by a few Mexicans. As the Mexicans entered, a thud from the other side of the compound was sent flying into the troops, sending them flying. The grapeshot screamed ahead of José, shocking his eardrums so much so that a constant ringing resounded in them.
As, painfully, his hearing retuned to the sound of battle, other Mexicans ran past him, and into the buildings. Now fully conscious again, José made his way into the building, priming his bayonet in an aggressive posture. He tore into the building, stabbing down into Trenches, dug and manned by the Rebels, that seemed much more like graves then places of defence. José stabbed and stabbed, and each time his bayonet was met with a willing body. How many were there? José counted about a dozen at most, but it seemed to him more like a hundred. However, soon his bayonet had no more stabbing to do, and they could move onto the final goal.....the church.......
stnylan said:Showing quite a bit of battle iniative is our lad. He'll start being called a hero and getting promoted if he keeps this up
as you have probably seen, it is more a crazed adrenaline rush then battle initiative. He still is young and is a wee while a away from becoming an officer.
Good to see you writing again! And good to see that the Battle of the Alamo is as good as won! Will young Jose come face to face with Davy Crockett before the night is out, I wonder...