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That, of course, partially explained why his young aide was not in Hartford and why he, as a brigadier general, had to sleep in a tent. Patrick vowed insincerely to teach the young pup a lesson when he finally did show up. What the hell, let them have their joy while they can. Only God knew what might happen to them tomorrow.

Patrick sat up in the cot. Of course. What the hell was he being such a fool for? If such an unlikely pair as Heinz and Molly could find themselves, why couldn’t he and Katrina? The worst that could happen was that she would reject him, and he would be no worse off than he was right now.

Did he love her? He didn’t know. He knew that he enjoyed her company and liked to see her smile, and loved to hear her talk. And hadn’t she kissed him and urged him to return? Once again he could see her face and feel her slender body against his, even if it had been for only the briefest of moments. What had Admiral Nelson said about a good commander being able to do no wrong if he laid his ship alongside that of an enemy? He laughed. Katrina Schuyler was not his enemy, but he certainly wouldn’t mind lying alongside her.

He lay back down and prepared for sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day, what with finding out about the type of unit he would be commanding, but he would try to make arrangements to see Katrina.

And just what did they mean about command being a challenge?

<p>CHAPTER FIFTEEN</p>

This would be James Longstreet’s first dealing with both his superiors and his immediate subordinates. Theodore Roosevelt sat quietly at one end of the table and was flanked by Elihu Root and John Hay. The only two military men besides Longstreet were Maj. Gen. Leonard Wood and the recently arrived Arthur MacArthur, who had immediately been promoted to the rank of lieutenant general. In some ways, this meeting was as much for MacArthur as it was an inauguration of Longstreet.

MacArthur had arrived from Manila the preceding day after an epic journey that began with a high-speed dash on a British cruiser. When the cruiser finally reached the western Canadian port of Vancouver, MacArthur and his two-man staff had been ensconced on a special, sealed train that sped them to the border at Buffalo. Another special train brought him to Washington, D.C.

Longstreet began with a brief announcement. “General Miles has submitted his resignation.”

There was genuine sympathy in the room for the usually unpopular Nelson Miles. Despite a lifetime of good service, the world would forever remember him for the disaster that had transpired at Danbury.

“General Wood,” prompted Longstreet, “why don’t you begin your presentation?”

Wood recapped briefly. The Germans had not moved from their perimeter, which included Manhattan, part of Long Island, and the area north of Long Island Sound running from the Hudson east to a point just short of the Housatonic, near Danbury, where a virtually solid wall of fortifications ran southward to the sound.

Wood estimated the Germans at eighty thousand, with additional troops arriving almost weekly in heavily guarded convoys. They were deployed throughout the perimeter. A few battalions were stationed on Staten Island to protect the Narrows, where the entrance to the upper harbor was only a mile wide.

In numbers, the Americans had the larger force, with about a hundred and thirty thousand in the field. But this apparent superiority was an illusion, as only about half the Americans had modern weapons and few were well trained by any standards. The only problems fully resolved were those of food and shelter.

MacArthur leaned forward. “But what about fighting, General? Surely we are not being totally inert.”

Wood flushed. “There are patrol actions and minor skirmishes almost daily, but nothing major is occurring. We have, of course, been utilizing spies and saboteurs behind their lines wherever possible. That includes New York City and Long Island as well as Connecticut.”

Longstreet turned to Hay. “Can the Brits send more of their rifles?”

“No. Their explanation is that they cannot strip their own forces in order to arm ours. We are getting about five thousand rifles a week through Canada, and they feel that is enough. Further, they do not want to go too far in offending the Germans.”

Longstreet nodded. MacArthur looked stunned at the scope of the problem.

Wood continued. “We also have serious deficiencies in machine guns and heavy artillery. Our local companies, like Winchester, Remington, and Colt, are expanding military production as quickly as they can, so these problems may be resolved reasonably soon, perhaps in a couple of months. As to the problem of rifles, we had been experimenting with the German Mauser prior to the war and were considering producing it at our Springfield, Massachusetts, facility. We already have the tooling, but we do have a minor hitch.”

“Which is?” asked Longstreet.

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