What's the difference?robou said:
Great battle scenes here. The vivid writing really captures the imagination
-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
Great battle scenes here. The vivid writing really captures the imagination
… José charged his bayonet forwards and ran towards the enemy near church. Now seeing that they were surrounded, rebels from the palisade ran for the church and some relative cover, behind hastily prepared walls of bags, boxes and the sort. It was, in every way, the least formidable obstacle José had come up against so far. A chest-high wall of boxes manned by no more than a dozen men, perhaps firing a few rounds a minute, which was a minute to long. José was now sprinting across the large courtyard of the fort towards these men.
From behind him, a ear-shatteringly low crack sent a piece of lead weighing in at 18lb flying across the courtyard, smashing its way into the wall and sending a handful of close by rebels flying backwards. José could see the effect of this huge explosion immediately, as the Tejians now fled from their wall into the cover of the church. It was ill-fated to do so, as less than half a dozen made it into the confines of the churches sacred walls.
José began forward again, running for the grand doorway to the church. On the churches fresco’s, he could see Saint Francis looking out at him. Was it a look of disdain or a look of gladness and liberation? Whatever it was, it would have to wait until the defenders had been finished off.
José hurdled over the wall of boxes and, along with his compadres, smashed his way into the church, past the beleaguered defenders. José primed his bayonet towards a rebel in front of him. He was a middle-aged man, with a neat tail-coat and a large beard, and José was sure he was a respectable citizen, but an enemy of the state none the less. José unleashed his bayonet at the mans gut, screaming “Viva Santa Anna!” at the top of his voice. Although the beard covered the mans facial expressions, it did not cover the blood that slowly dripped out from under it. However, the man would not fall, so José stabbed in harder, twisting and turning the bayonet in the mans stomach.
José now retracted the bayonet, but still the man refused to fall. José could not believe what he was seeing so he raised the butt end of his musket. In his final action of the day, he swung the musket and the man, striking him in the side of the head. With a convincing ‘thwack’ the man fell to the ground………..
From behind him, a ear-shatteringly low crack sent a piece of lead weighing in at 18lb flying across the courtyard, smashing its way into the wall and sending a handful of close by rebels flying backwards. José could see the effect of this huge explosion immediately, as the Tejians now fled from their wall into the cover of the church. It was ill-fated to do so, as less than half a dozen made it into the confines of the churches sacred walls.
José began forward again, running for the grand doorway to the church. On the churches fresco’s, he could see Saint Francis looking out at him. Was it a look of disdain or a look of gladness and liberation? Whatever it was, it would have to wait until the defenders had been finished off.
José hurdled over the wall of boxes and, along with his compadres, smashed his way into the church, past the beleaguered defenders. José primed his bayonet towards a rebel in front of him. He was a middle-aged man, with a neat tail-coat and a large beard, and José was sure he was a respectable citizen, but an enemy of the state none the less. José unleashed his bayonet at the mans gut, screaming “Viva Santa Anna!” at the top of his voice. Although the beard covered the mans facial expressions, it did not cover the blood that slowly dripped out from under it. However, the man would not fall, so José stabbed in harder, twisting and turning the bayonet in the mans stomach.
José now retracted the bayonet, but still the man refused to fall. José could not believe what he was seeing so he raised the butt end of his musket. In his final action of the day, he swung the musket and the man, striking him in the side of the head. With a convincing ‘thwack’ the man fell to the ground………..
A ghostly mist, caused by the endless amounts of used gunpowder and the burning roofs, hung over the deathly silent courtyard of the Alamo. José walked around quietly with his comrades, burying the dead, tending to the wounded now that the battle was over. It is the side of war that no one likes to think about. Underneath the glory of his battle honours and dusty uniform, the reality of war was death. It wasn’t a reality that José was enjoying.
He hoisted a dead rebel, who was dressed in a light blue tail-coat and had been shot clean in the forehead, onto his back. As he walked to the sight of the mass-grave, he shuffled past a dog, whose owner’s stark-white face it was now licking. It sent a shiver down José’s spine to see such an act of loyalty on behalf of a dog.
He kept walking, past the gatehouse and out into the open fields that separated the Alamo from San Antonio de Bejar. The fields, all around the god-forsaken fort were strewn with Mexican dead, each one, immaculately dressed and armed for combat. The troops had been told that only two-hundred Mexicans had died in the assault, with a further hundred dying throughout the siege. However, anybody could have seen that these estimates were wrong. Estimates for Rebel dead were about one-hundred and eighty, give or take a few either way. It was a huge human cost, only for a few piles of stone in the middle of nowhere.
José finally reached the huge pit, and relieved his shoulders of their burden. The body slumped and bounced its way down the steep sides of the hole, and landed at the bottom. José moved away, trying to avoid the awful smell that the pit gave off. He sat down and began rubbing his shoulders to try and ease the pain.
Captain Juliano walked up to José and bent down on his knees to come to the same level as José.
“José, I have some good and some very bad news for you” started the captain, “which do you want to hear first?”
“Good news first please, señor” replied the young man.
“Well, the good news is that, due to your excellent combat and battle initiative, you have been reassigned to the Cassadores” said the captain, hoping to spark off a good reaction in José. José looked up.
“The Cassadores? This is brilliant señor, but I refuse to go without Antonio!” replied José staunchly.
“Ah….that is the bad news José. Antonio…err…well he…. erm….didn’t survive the siege” replied the Juliano, his voice cracking under the pressure of giving the bad news. José’s face turned white, and he shook slightly, attempting not to cry in front of his commanding officer. Suddenly his emotions burst out, and tears began to stream from his blue eyes. He threw himself and Juliano’s feet, grabbing them and almost pulling over the officer. José then stopped grabbing, loosened his grip, and sat back where he had started.
“It can only be as bad for me, as for those families of the men I killed last night. I must only seek revenge without hate. Hate will be the end of me” said José, regaining his control over his emotions. “The best way I can do that, is in the Cassadores.”
“Si, that is the way to think José, that is the way to think” said the officer. Juliano then placed a piece of paper in José’s lap, stoop back up. “I am... sorry...very sorry, José” he said solemnly. He then turned on his heels and walked back towards the camp.
He hoisted a dead rebel, who was dressed in a light blue tail-coat and had been shot clean in the forehead, onto his back. As he walked to the sight of the mass-grave, he shuffled past a dog, whose owner’s stark-white face it was now licking. It sent a shiver down José’s spine to see such an act of loyalty on behalf of a dog.
He kept walking, past the gatehouse and out into the open fields that separated the Alamo from San Antonio de Bejar. The fields, all around the god-forsaken fort were strewn with Mexican dead, each one, immaculately dressed and armed for combat. The troops had been told that only two-hundred Mexicans had died in the assault, with a further hundred dying throughout the siege. However, anybody could have seen that these estimates were wrong. Estimates for Rebel dead were about one-hundred and eighty, give or take a few either way. It was a huge human cost, only for a few piles of stone in the middle of nowhere.
José finally reached the huge pit, and relieved his shoulders of their burden. The body slumped and bounced its way down the steep sides of the hole, and landed at the bottom. José moved away, trying to avoid the awful smell that the pit gave off. He sat down and began rubbing his shoulders to try and ease the pain.
Captain Juliano walked up to José and bent down on his knees to come to the same level as José.
“José, I have some good and some very bad news for you” started the captain, “which do you want to hear first?”
“Good news first please, señor” replied the young man.
“Well, the good news is that, due to your excellent combat and battle initiative, you have been reassigned to the Cassadores” said the captain, hoping to spark off a good reaction in José. José looked up.
“The Cassadores? This is brilliant señor, but I refuse to go without Antonio!” replied José staunchly.
“Ah….that is the bad news José. Antonio…err…well he…. erm….didn’t survive the siege” replied the Juliano, his voice cracking under the pressure of giving the bad news. José’s face turned white, and he shook slightly, attempting not to cry in front of his commanding officer. Suddenly his emotions burst out, and tears began to stream from his blue eyes. He threw himself and Juliano’s feet, grabbing them and almost pulling over the officer. José then stopped grabbing, loosened his grip, and sat back where he had started.
“It can only be as bad for me, as for those families of the men I killed last night. I must only seek revenge without hate. Hate will be the end of me” said José, regaining his control over his emotions. “The best way I can do that, is in the Cassadores.”
“Si, that is the way to think José, that is the way to think” said the officer. Juliano then placed a piece of paper in José’s lap, stoop back up. “I am... sorry...very sorry, José” he said solemnly. He then turned on his heels and walked back towards the camp.
That's certainly a very level-headed response to such news! Looking forward to seeing said "revenge" being sought, with or without hate...
DerKaiser said:
possibly the most unrealistic peice of writing i have even wrote
..... oh well...
Antonio dead? Certainly bad news for Jose, at least he's been reasigned to the Cazadores regiment
A bit of news on the updating front. I am off to the States to visit my brother for a week. Therefore i will be incapable of posting an update this week, or the next, but hope to get an update out by the 24th of February.
Sorry again for the wait
Rob
Sorry again for the wait
Rob
Yes, it's past time that Jose learnt that war means death. His future looks bright though.
I must admit to guilt. I should have been updating this long ago, and i apologise for the wait. I will attempt to catch up on lost time this weekend with 3 updates, two tomorrow and one on sunday.
Sorry for the wait
Rob
Sorry for the wait
Rob
The slow trotting motion of the horse was very calming to José. His emotions had boiled over in the past few days, but he was hoping that his new assignment would do some good him. His destination was only a hundred metres away at most. José heart began to race as the clam trot turned into the adrenaline rush of a canter. Closer came the objective, fifty metres, twenty meters... José was almost thrown off the horse as it flew to a halt in the presence of a man standing ahead of it. The man in question was standing upright, in a slightly scruffy uniform, a sergeant’s chevron loosely attached to the beaten fabric of his tunic. He stood with his hand held out in front of him, looking as if he wanted to shake José’s hand.
José dismounted and, holding the reins of his steed, walked slowly and cautiously up to the man. The sergeant was first to speak, ‘José Camarado, formerly of the 1st Hidalgo Regiment, I presume?’
‘Si Sergeant!’ said José with some enthusiasm.
‘Well, I am your new NCO, Enrique de la Vegar’ explained the sergeant. Jose’s face gave a rather blank expression. ‘I will be the one leading you into battle José’ said the sergeant, trying to get the message across to José as he looked very confused. Back in the line and file it had been officers who had led them, not sergeants or corporals.
‘You see José, in the Cassadores, we do things differently to you line infantry types. Cassadores work in small units, 10 or so men, rather than huge blocks of fifty or so. We use skirmish tactics, meaning that we avoid casualties by always seeking cover, and using tactics like ambush. That way, we can keep casualties down. You get me?’
José gave an unconvincing nod at Enrique.
‘José, what I’m trying to say here is that you are under me, and I will do my best to make you into a proper Cassador, and hopefully that will ensure you don’t get killed like you would in the line’ José finally tuned into what was going on and managed to reply.
‘Si sergeant! In understand, but I fear you have much work to do.’
‘I doubt that José, your report is phenomenal. You joined the army last autumn and you have already seen action and performed, according to your officers, spectacularly during the Battle of the Alamo.’ José blushed slightly. He had never been complimented for much, but this was a serious morale booster for him. ‘Oh! You can call me Enrique; I prefer it to the ‘Si sergeant’ that I get all the time.’
‘Si ser….Enrique’ murmured José. Enrique looked at him disdainfully, then smiled and chuckled slightly.
‘Right, lets get you out of that silly Infantry uniform and get rid of the stupid musket your carrying’ joked the sergeant. ‘Now I will show you a proper weapon…..’
José dismounted and, holding the reins of his steed, walked slowly and cautiously up to the man. The sergeant was first to speak, ‘José Camarado, formerly of the 1st Hidalgo Regiment, I presume?’
‘Si Sergeant!’ said José with some enthusiasm.
‘Well, I am your new NCO, Enrique de la Vegar’ explained the sergeant. Jose’s face gave a rather blank expression. ‘I will be the one leading you into battle José’ said the sergeant, trying to get the message across to José as he looked very confused. Back in the line and file it had been officers who had led them, not sergeants or corporals.
‘You see José, in the Cassadores, we do things differently to you line infantry types. Cassadores work in small units, 10 or so men, rather than huge blocks of fifty or so. We use skirmish tactics, meaning that we avoid casualties by always seeking cover, and using tactics like ambush. That way, we can keep casualties down. You get me?’
José gave an unconvincing nod at Enrique.
‘José, what I’m trying to say here is that you are under me, and I will do my best to make you into a proper Cassador, and hopefully that will ensure you don’t get killed like you would in the line’ José finally tuned into what was going on and managed to reply.
‘Si sergeant! In understand, but I fear you have much work to do.’
‘I doubt that José, your report is phenomenal. You joined the army last autumn and you have already seen action and performed, according to your officers, spectacularly during the Battle of the Alamo.’ José blushed slightly. He had never been complimented for much, but this was a serious morale booster for him. ‘Oh! You can call me Enrique; I prefer it to the ‘Si sergeant’ that I get all the time.’
‘Si ser….Enrique’ murmured José. Enrique looked at him disdainfully, then smiled and chuckled slightly.
‘Right, lets get you out of that silly Infantry uniform and get rid of the stupid musket your carrying’ joked the sergeant. ‘Now I will show you a proper weapon…..’
The column of men had been marching all day, taking well deserved breaks every so often. As the new recruit, José marched at the back, right at the side of his sergeant, Enrique. They were marching to meet with General José Urea’s army that was stationed in Corpus Christi, adding more to the forces of this most successful General. General Urea had managed, with a small force, to pin down most of the rebel army, and was currently in the process of tracking down Colonel Grant’s column of Tejians. José sincerely hoped that he would be able to take a part in that.
From what was obviously a long way a way, José heard a cry and although he couldn’t make out the word, the large bang that followed quickly reassured him of what that would have been. The cannonball ripped into the front few ranks of men, taking off the head of one, and sending several others flying. Enrique jumped into his commanding shoes, leaping at the situation like a puma.
‘Disperse!’ shouted the battle-hardened sergeant, right into Jose’s left ear. ‘Get off the road, take to the trees!’ The column broke up, men running to either side of the road, Jose following the sergeant.
‘So much for skirmish formation and ambush, sir!’ shouted José, venting his anger at the situation at his NCO. José safely reached the tree line, and placing himself behind a large tree, braced himself of the ensuing combat.
‘Courage compadres! Mark your target before you fire!’ ordered Enrique, ignoring Jose’s smug comment. José looked forward, waiting for the rebels to come into view. Through sparse trees José began to see the rebels moving, in an irregular formation towards them.
‘Now my friends! FUEGO!’ José fired straight away, like he had done in the line, and watched as no one fell to his shot. Enrique ran, bowing his head down to avoid the oncoming fire, from tree to tree towards José. He slumped down next to José. ‘No! No, no, no! You don’t do that José’ said the sergeant despairingly, ‘Mark you target means that you mark your target. This isn’t the line, and I don’t ever want you to fire as soon as I give the order. You hear me?’ he said, shaking José around.
‘Si sergeant….I mean Enrique!’ stuttered José, confidence beginning to seep back into him.
‘Good man!’ exclaimed Enrique, ‘Now reload and mark your target!’ He ran off to another tree, leaving José to learn his lesson. José rammed his rod down the rifles barrel, one, two, three. He cocked the flint, and levelled the weapon to his shoulder. He rested the weapon on a log in front of him, and aiming carefully down the barrel, he let off his shot. The ball went whizzing through the air, and met with it’s target in the forehead.
Under the accurate fire of the Cassadores, the rebels did not stand a chance. It was only a matter of time before they ran, or were all dead…
From what was obviously a long way a way, José heard a cry and although he couldn’t make out the word, the large bang that followed quickly reassured him of what that would have been. The cannonball ripped into the front few ranks of men, taking off the head of one, and sending several others flying. Enrique jumped into his commanding shoes, leaping at the situation like a puma.
‘Disperse!’ shouted the battle-hardened sergeant, right into Jose’s left ear. ‘Get off the road, take to the trees!’ The column broke up, men running to either side of the road, Jose following the sergeant.
‘So much for skirmish formation and ambush, sir!’ shouted José, venting his anger at the situation at his NCO. José safely reached the tree line, and placing himself behind a large tree, braced himself of the ensuing combat.
‘Courage compadres! Mark your target before you fire!’ ordered Enrique, ignoring Jose’s smug comment. José looked forward, waiting for the rebels to come into view. Through sparse trees José began to see the rebels moving, in an irregular formation towards them.
‘Now my friends! FUEGO!’ José fired straight away, like he had done in the line, and watched as no one fell to his shot. Enrique ran, bowing his head down to avoid the oncoming fire, from tree to tree towards José. He slumped down next to José. ‘No! No, no, no! You don’t do that José’ said the sergeant despairingly, ‘Mark you target means that you mark your target. This isn’t the line, and I don’t ever want you to fire as soon as I give the order. You hear me?’ he said, shaking José around.
‘Si sergeant….I mean Enrique!’ stuttered José, confidence beginning to seep back into him.
‘Good man!’ exclaimed Enrique, ‘Now reload and mark your target!’ He ran off to another tree, leaving José to learn his lesson. José rammed his rod down the rifles barrel, one, two, three. He cocked the flint, and levelled the weapon to his shoulder. He rested the weapon on a log in front of him, and aiming carefully down the barrel, he let off his shot. The ball went whizzing through the air, and met with it’s target in the forehead.
Under the accurate fire of the Cassadores, the rebels did not stand a chance. It was only a matter of time before they ran, or were all dead…
Indeed he does, he is a quick learner that is for sure
Thanks stnylan for always commenting!, it is nice that you always seem to get there first
Thanks stnylan for always commenting!, it is nice that you always seem to get there first
I am calling this AAR to a premature close, as i have little time to do the writing..i am preparing a new gameplay/history book AAR, but the modding required will take some time before i can start.
My Apologies
Rob
My Apologies
Rob
That is very sorry news to hear, robou. There was good stuff in this.
Best of luck in your future endeavours.
Best of luck in your future endeavours.
Ack. I know I wasn't a regular commentator but I was definitely enjoying this AAR. You have a real knack for battle scenes and Mexican history is certainly fascinating