and exploding canisters would strike and riddle the Americans.
He veered away from the color bearer. As an officer he would draw more than his share of fire. It was foolish to also be in the storm of enemy bullets the color bearer would draw. Grant crossed the bare beach and plunged into the sand dunes. Slipping on the loose sand, he stormed ahead and scrambled to the crest of the dunes.
The sergeant with the colors had beaten Grant. Now the big soldier was shouting with jubilation and whipping his flag about over his head. He gave a mighty war whoop, made a last proud wave of the flag, and stabbed its staff into the sand.
With heart pumping from the all-out run, Grant swiftly scanned the land between the crest of the dunes back to the chaparral and was amazed that not one enemy could be seen. The Americans had taken possession of the shore without a musket being fired. The Mexicans had had more than ample time to march to the beach in force after the landing place of the Americans could be determined with certainty. They had not and had missed a perfect opportunity to slaughter the American invaders.
The brigade burst into tremendous victory cries. From out on the bay answering cheers come rolling from the soldiers waiting to land, and from the sailors of the American ships. Something within Grant told him that the celebration was terribly premature.
Worth shouted orders at his brigade commanders. The orders came speedily down the ranks to the lieutenants and the men and they moved out to expand and consolidate the beachhead.
Grant cast one glance at the surfboats heading back for Pattersonâs volunteers, then looked for Hazlitt.
âWell, are you coming?â Hazlitt called.
âCanât,â Grant said and shaking his head sadly. âWith no fight, Iâve got to get back to the supply ships. The colonel will expect me to get everything ashore, and have a camp set up for the men in short order.â
âYou be sure and do that for I donât like to sleep in the rain. And help the commissary fellows get the kitchen set up too so we can have hot food.â Hazlitt grinned, waved and ran toward the men held in formation by his sergeants.
CHAPTER 7
The lively sea breeze blowing through the open portholes and the doorway of the officersâ mess on the Massachusetts had cooled steadily after the setting of the sun. Its gusting breath often reached the vents of the three shipsâ lanterns hanging above the dining table and sent their flames dancing and flicking. The ship now and again jerked and rattled the dishes on the table as it was brought up short against the end of its anchor chain.
Lee had remained silent during the late evening meal with General Scott, the generals of the divisions, and several other officers. The conversation had flowed freely but Lee had grown tired of it because everybody avoided discussing the situation of the army that was on his mind. As an aid of the general he had to endure the session, still he wished it would end. Lee could see the general was also restless. The mess orderly made the round and poured the final cups of coffee and left.
Scott tapped his coffee mug with a spoon. âGentlemen, let me interrupt your conversation and discuss our actions for tomorrow. As you know, General Twiggs landed the last of his troops at 10 tonight, and that includes the one thousand Louisiana volunteers that arrived late today. We now have all three divisions on the shore, nine thousand and six hundred men. Pickets and roving patrols are in place.â
Scott continued in a pleased voice and his eyes sparkling. âNot one man was lost. General Morales has made a serious error in not attacking us as we landed. Two or three coordinated cavalry charges at us while we were in the water to our crotches could have turned the landing into a slaughter. Now give us another day to dig in and it will take an army twice, no, three times our size to rout us
He veered away from the color bearer. As an officer he would draw more than his share of fire. It was foolish to also be in the storm of enemy bullets the color bearer would draw. Grant crossed the bare beach and plunged into the sand dunes. Slipping on the loose sand, he stormed ahead and scrambled to the crest of the dunes.
The sergeant with the colors had beaten Grant. Now the big soldier was shouting with jubilation and whipping his flag about over his head. He gave a mighty war whoop, made a last proud wave of the flag, and stabbed its staff into the sand.
With heart pumping from the all-out run, Grant swiftly scanned the land between the crest of the dunes back to the chaparral and was amazed that not one enemy could be seen. The Americans had taken possession of the shore without a musket being fired. The Mexicans had had more than ample time to march to the beach in force after the landing place of the Americans could be determined with certainty. They had not and had missed a perfect opportunity to slaughter the American invaders.
The brigade burst into tremendous victory cries. From out on the bay answering cheers come rolling from the soldiers waiting to land, and from the sailors of the American ships. Something within Grant told him that the celebration was terribly premature.
Worth shouted orders at his brigade commanders. The orders came speedily down the ranks to the lieutenants and the men and they moved out to expand and consolidate the beachhead.
Grant cast one glance at the surfboats heading back for Pattersonâs volunteers, then looked for Hazlitt.
âWell, are you coming?â Hazlitt called.
âCanât,â Grant said and shaking his head sadly. âWith no fight, Iâve got to get back to the supply ships. The colonel will expect me to get everything ashore, and have a camp set up for the men in short order.â
âYou be sure and do that for I donât like to sleep in the rain. And help the commissary fellows get the kitchen set up too so we can have hot food.â Hazlitt grinned, waved and ran toward the men held in formation by his sergeants.
CHAPTER 7
The lively sea breeze blowing through the open portholes and the doorway of the officersâ mess on the Massachusetts had cooled steadily after the setting of the sun. Its gusting breath often reached the vents of the three shipsâ lanterns hanging above the dining table and sent their flames dancing and flicking. The ship now and again jerked and rattled the dishes on the table as it was brought up short against the end of its anchor chain.
Lee had remained silent during the late evening meal with General Scott, the generals of the divisions, and several other officers. The conversation had flowed freely but Lee had grown tired of it because everybody avoided discussing the situation of the army that was on his mind. As an aid of the general he had to endure the session, still he wished it would end. Lee could see the general was also restless. The mess orderly made the round and poured the final cups of coffee and left.
Scott tapped his coffee mug with a spoon. âGentlemen, let me interrupt your conversation and discuss our actions for tomorrow. As you know, General Twiggs landed the last of his troops at 10 tonight, and that includes the one thousand Louisiana volunteers that arrived late today. We now have all three divisions on the shore, nine thousand and six hundred men. Pickets and roving patrols are in place.â
Scott continued in a pleased voice and his eyes sparkling. âNot one man was lost. General Morales has made a serious error in not attacking us as we landed. Two or three coordinated cavalry charges at us while we were in the water to our crotches could have turned the landing into a slaughter. Now give us another day to dig in and it will take an army twice, no, three times our size to rout us
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