1901

The horses were in a clearing only a few hundred yards away. The two men covered the distance quickly, all the while being passed by hundreds of well-armed Americans heading for the battle. Funston’s plan, as outlined earlier in the day to Patrick, was simple. The German force numbered about two thousand men. To combat it, Funston had gathered half his entire division, almost eight thousand. These were now enveloping the head of the column and concentrating fire on the left flank. Recently purchased pom-poms and French 75mm cannon added to the din as they fired from positions where targets had already been registered.

“Like I said, Patrick, the Krauts are so totally and marvelously predictable. Same number of men, same route, but today, a different result.”

A messenger ran up to them, breathless and flushed. “Sir, Colonel Martin requests permission to take the road behind them and cut off their retreat.”

Funston threw his hat on the ground. “No, goddamnit! Tell Colonel Martin to keep his troops off that road and pay attention to the plan.”

He picked up his hat and dusted it off. “Goddamn Martin’s too reckless. I don’t want them cut off. If that happens they’ll dig in and send out for reinforcements, which will come long before we can root them out. If we leave an escape route open, they’ll take it and we can maul them all the way back, or at least as far as we want. Jesus, we don’t want them to brag about a ‘heroic rescue.’ I want them to retreat with their tails between their legs and have to tell the All-goddamn-Highest kaiser how they got their asses whipped.” He paused and grinned. “You think that’s plain enough, Patrick?”

“Wonderfully eloquent, Fred.”

They waited out the remainder of the afternoon while the outnumbered and outgunned Germans fought on tenaciously and with iron discipline, inflicting surprisingly severe casualties on the advancing Americans until they finally decided to fall back. Subject to continuous harassment and driven by the nightmare fear of being surrounded, the Germans soon quickened the pace of their retreat. Very soon, units lost their cohesion and thus their strength. Individual soldiers lost their nerve and started to run. This was infectious. Despite protestations from mounted officers, who made wonderfully easy targets for riflemen, the retreat quickly became a rout, with men flowing down the road to the safety of the German lines. First, equipment was abandoned, then the wounded; then the German soldiers started looking for a way of surrendering to end the torment.

Funston called off the chase in the late afternoon. A German relief force had been sighted and was finally coming. It would soon meet the remnants of the retreating column head-on in what Funston hoped would be demoralizing confusion.

As a degree of quiet and normality returned, Funston and Patrick walked their horses down the road, which was littered with packs, rifles, canteens, helmets, and other items. The farther from the field of initial contact, the fewer were the dead. By this time, the wounded prisoners had been gathered and were being taken to field hospitals to be treated. Other prisoners had been marched away.

Patrick and Funston halted their horses. “Well, General Funston, are you satisfied?” Patrick asked.

Funston removed his wide-brimmed hat and wiped his forehead. “By and large, yes,” he said softly. The sight of the battlefield had a sobering effect. “I wanted to bloody their nose, and I did. I also wanted my men to get a cheap victory to show that the Germans aren’t gods, and I did that too. But,” he said, pausing thoughtfully, “you saw how well the Germans fought and how disciplined they were, and look at how many casualties they caused us, even though they were outnumbered and outgunned. We had four times as many men and even greater advantages in artillery and machine guns, and they still hurt us. Had we outnumbered them by only two to one, the results might have been different. If the numbers were even and their commander was not so blazingly stupid, they would have beaten us. No, Patrick, victory or not, what this also proves is how much more we have to learn.”

Funston turned his horse back to the American lines. “I just hope we get the opportunity to do that learning.”

Holstein entered Bulow’s office unannounced and sat down before the astonished man could react. “The kaiser did not wish me at his most recent conference?”

Bulow gulped. What was it about the man that was so damned intimidating? “I did not know you were not invited.” The evasion came easily. “I thought your absence was for other reasons. You have not always graced us with your presence in the past, you know.”

Holstein accepted the mild rebuke. “The kaiser cannot be happy. The foreign press is making a huge fuss over two defeats on the same day. I notice our tame newspapers are referring to the incidents as only skirmishes and the type of thing that is bound to happen. Is that what the kaiser also feels?”