1901

Wood looked embarrassed. “General, this is almost beyond ridiculous. I’ve been informed by both our legal staff and our quartermasters that the design of the Mauser is patented and Germany owns the patent. They say it might be illegal for us to use it without their permission.”

Longstreet turned an interesting shade of red. “Get their permission? That is the stupidest piece of shit I’ve ever heard. Inform those people that we are at war with Germany and are not required to say ‘May I?’ before shooting them. Tell anyone who objects to stay out of the way, or else. Jesus.” He laughed. “God save us from our friends.”

“Gentlemen,” said Wood, continuing quickly. “We have also largely solved the problem of uniforms. We have enough mills either turning them out or just about to, so we will have a well-dressed army very shortly. Of course the million-man army the president plans will strain us, but we will solve that problem. We can also make enough shoes and boots.”

“I want brown,” snapped Longstreet.

“Sir?” said Wood. The others looked surprised.

“Brown. I want brown, not blue. Don’t you Yankees know what splendid targets you made in blue? Hell, you couldn’t hide at all until your boys got all dirty. My boys were dirty to begin with. Look, just like forty years ago, the enemy’s got rifles and guns that can kill from a mile away. Bright colors may have made sense in the days of the crossbow, but not now. The British gave up red and are using khaki in Africa against the Boers and it seems to work. Hell, even the Germans’ dark gray is better than blue! And, yes, I know the French are still wearing red and blue, but it’s their concern if they wish to continue their stupid love affair with Napoleon.”

Wood scribbled a note. “Brown it is.”

“Now, what about officers?”

“General,” answered Wood, “like the navy, we don’t have enough qualified officers to staff the billets we currently have, much less the huge expansion planned by the president. We will also need more officers to train the new men when they arrive. We have stripped many of our regular regiments and sent numbers of their officers to stabilize guard and militia units. Although this has somewhat strengthened the guard and militia, it has also lowered the quality of the regulars.”

True enough, Longstreet thought. “All right, get a list of all the officers who left the service for civilian life in the last ten to fifteen years, and find out how many there are. A lot of good men probably left because of the low pay and the need to feed their families. Telegraph them and offer them a return to at least their last rank for the duration of the war.”

“And if they don’t respond?”

“Then the hell with them. Who needs them? Don’t forget we’ve also got at least two good military schools in addition to the academy: the Virginia Military Institute and The Citadel. They all just graduated classes, didn’t they? Well, make sure their graduates are all commissioned too. Then commission the underclassmen. At this point they’ve all had at least a year of military life under their belts, which puts them well ahead of most other people. We can also promote enlisted men to officer rank-selectively and temporarily, of course.”

While Wood took notes furiously, Longstreet glanced about the room. The others seemed to be in agreement. Good. “Now we are going to do something drastic and find enough officers to staff a complete new division.” There, that got their attention. “We will take the officers, all of them, from the 9th and 10th Cavalry Regiments and form a division around them. In order to keep the 9th and 10th intact, we will commission all their sergeants and corporals as officers.”

Wood was shocked. “You’re joking,” he said softly.

“No.”

“Negro officers? As majors, colonels?”

“Temporary rank. For the duration only.”

“Sir, I don’t know if we can do it.”

“General Wood, I ain’t asking. That’s an order.” Longstreet laughed hugely. “Do you find it as ironic as I do that an old rebel is promoting Negroes?”

There was no opposition. Roosevelt again remembered how colored soldiers had charged up San Juan Hill, or Kettle Hill to be precise, during the last war. The colored troops had gotten mixed up with his own white Rough Riders during the assault, and he’d been impressed by their discipline and bravery. Their blood had stained the hill as well. How could he ever object?

“Now for commands,” said Longstreet. “Lieutenant General MacArthur will command the entire theater of operations, which now consists of parts of New York, Connecticut, and New Jersey. If that changes, so will his area of authority. For the time being, he will have two corps of three divisions each. The first will continue to be commanded by Baldy Smith; the second will be given to Funston. We will replace no divisional commanders at this time. We will, however, keep looking for qualified people. God help us if we have to go to a third corps.”