For All Nails #196: Never Give Up, Never Surrender!
by Mike Keating
- Southern Alaska, Russian Empire
- 6 August 1898
"How did it all fall apart so easily?"
Major Ivan Federov took a second to realize his aide had said something. He looked over at Captain Gomez. "The war, you mean?" he replied.
"Yes," Gomez said in an angry tone of voice. "We were twenty miles from San Francisco, and they were running away like cowards. All of a sudden, everything reversed itself. We are retreating now. I sometimes wonder who Kornilov knew to get to be a general."
"I hear his sister married some count," Federov told him, "but why this command would be a political prize is beyond me. Anyway, they let us advance before, so the Kramertsi could get us to provoke Hermión." He took another look, the fifth one in an hour, through his binoculars at the Mexican positions. He had trouble seeing anything, just like the other times, but he kept hoping for a change. The Mexicans were well-hidden among the trees and bushes. Most of the rest of the battle area had been leveled more, but there were still trees to hide among where his battalion faced the enemy.
"Three days of no movement either way. My entrenching tool is glad I don't have to dig more holes," Gomez said.
"We aren't even close to the coast or one of the rivers so we could fish for food. All the wildlife is either already dead or scared off. Provisions are even lower than normal." Ivan wondered how the men were taking it. He himself hadn't eaten since yesterday.
As he thought this, he wished he knew how well-fed the men in General Stockton's forces were. No doubt the USM army had started off better, but how were they now?
"Antonio," he asked Gomez, "how are the men holding up?"
"Well, sir, they are starting to grumble a little." Just then, a series of rifle shots came from the Mexican line. Hatfield is good, Ivan thought. He had expected his opposite number to be a formidable enemy, and he had not been disappointed.
He saw the artillery piece behind them loading a shell to fire in that direction, when a Mexican shell landed squarely on their gun.
Ivan swore, stopped to collect his thoughts, and then he swore again. "Antonio, that artillery shell-"
"-never whistled over our heads before it landed,” Gomez finished his sentence for him, indicating they were thinking the same thing.
Federov continued the train of thought, although he knew Gomez had figured out the same thing he had. "Which means it didn't come from the south, or we'd have heard it. Bozhemoi FN1 they've surrounded us!" Other shells burst among the Russian positions now, some whistling, others not. Ivan heard some of the Mexican cannons firing from the north. "We must warn the general! Corporal Fetisov!"
The soldier he had summoned came dashing up and failed to salute. Federov supposed that was good; he didn't want the Mexicans to take shots at officers. "Get to General Kornilov's camp right away. Tell him we are facing Mexicans to the north and south of us, and warn him to expect Mexicans to show up on his north as well. Hurry, before the whole army is encircled!" The courier ran off.
Gomez looked north. "They must have landed marines north of us on the coast somewhere and marched south. Sneaky."
Ivan and Antonio made their way north through the Russian forces to check out the second front. As they got there, a voice called out in English, "Hey, Ivan, you'd better give up now. We have you on two sides. You've got no chance."
Have they been in touch with Hatfield? How would they know my name? Then Ivan realized the Mexican didn't. The voice's owner had been referring to the Russians in general.
"Come on, you nekulturny FN2 Ivan dogs! We'd like to not waste our ammo on inferior targets!"
Gomez swore in English, Russian, and Spanish. "This cannibated durak FN3 is calling us nekulturny? He's probably using mota right now! I wonder if he even knows what it means!"
Federov had a more concise response to the taunts, though. He took a deep breath and yelled across the way, "Yob tvoyu mat!" FN4
The Mexican paused a minute, then came back with, "Is she any better than yours was? How do you think we found you so easy?"
Federov had had about all he could take. "I am not surrendering to them. We may be doomed, but I want to lose with my honor intact. I am hoping for good news from the general after he gets our message."
As if by divine intervention, a courier approached and handed Ivan a paper, then saluted. "Thank you, Private...?"
"Dzhanibekov, sir."
"Private Dzhanibekov. Thank you."
Ivan may have been willing to take his thanks back after reading the message. It was from Kornilov: "Nikolaevsk captured. Enemy has landed marines. Much of Novaya Volga in Mexican hands. Watch out for enemy approach from north to surround you. Most of army already trapped in pincers. Kornilov."
"Is it real?" asked Gomez.
"It has to be. Kornilov always signs with just his last name. Also, I know his writing."
Antonio grumbled. "So what do we do now?"
"Don't tell the men of this message," Ivan tore the paper to tiny pieces. "And pass the word to the officers to prepare to charge the northern positions. Who knows, we might get lucky."
The charge came an hour after that. Ivan led his men against the Mexicans to the north, screaming a mad war cry. Mexican rifles fired and Mexican artillery boomed. Russian weapons responded, but not shot for shot. By then, ammunition was in short supply. The Russians still had sharp bayonets, however. Quite a few enemy soldiers received stab wounds from them.
After fifteen minutes of fighting, though, Ivan noticed the Russian ranks were thinning. Sharp bayonets didn't need to be reloaded, but they could only kill from close up. Many Russian soldiers were falling to Mexican guns.
Ivan saw a lieutenant to his east lose his head to an artillery shell while leading a platoon through the enemy ranks. Then Ivan felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down to see his shirt was covered with blood.
Ivan Pavlovich Federov gasped "Antonio..." as he sank to his knees. "If you make it, tell my wife and children that I died well." He was barely able to get the last few words out before he fell on his face. Darkness fell.
Gomez said solemnly, "I swear," as another courier came dashing up while staying low. The paper he handed Gomez was an order from Kornilov to surrender. It was over. Kornilov's army had been the main Russian force in Alaska. With it defeated, Alaska was Mexico's for the taking. Kornilov had surrendered. To the Mexicans on the north or the south? Gomez looked around as he realized that he was in charge now. He called out orders for the Russians to lay down their arms.
Forward to FAN #197: What Dreams May Come.
Forward to 28 December 1898: A Shogun Falls.
Return to For All Nails.