The Carlos Beltrán Account

One of the reasons the conflict that I call the Texas Revolution of 1811 has long languished in historical obscurity is the lack of primary sources. Only about a half dozen first-hand accounts, some fragmentary, provide an accurate history of the conflict. The three most in-depth of these are the Warren D.C. Hall account, the McLane account and that of Carlos Beltrán. 

Hall's account has long been known, but the other two were lost for over a century before their rediscovery. They are highly useful when considered together, as McLane’s account covers the period from August 1812 to July 1813 and Beltrán’s covers the period from April to August 1813.

McLane’s account was first published in an obscure, unionist newspaper in San Antonio in the 1860s, and was lost for about 100 years, before being rediscovered. Beltrán’s account, written by the author in Mexico, also around the 1850s-60s, was discovered there by an American consul, who gave it to publisher John Warren Hunter of the history magazine “Frontier Times,” who published it in the 1920s and 1940s. 

The Beltrán account first appeared serialized
in the Oct., Nov. and Dec. 1925 editions of the Frontier Times.

Beltrán’s account, which was actually rediscovered first, was greeted skeptically by many historians. It is detailed and in very many ways romantic. It is told from the perspective of a young American, a veteran of the Burr Conspiracy, who continued on to Texas and settled there in 1807. Accepted into a Tejano family, he became in great part Mexicanized - so much, in fact, that his account was originally in Spanish. He claimed that he found work as a gunsmith in San Antonio, serving the Spanish Army from 1807-12.

Beltrán’s identity is mysterious. His name, he admits in his memoir, was adopted by him as a “translation” of his original American name, which he never reveals. No record of him can be traced in the Béxar Archives, but there does exist a man with an almost identical biography – an American gunsmith in the Spanish service named Daniel Boone (not to be confused with the famous pioneer of the same name). Boone and Beltrán are about the same age, and Boone arrived in Texas a year before Beltrán claimed he did. Beltrán ultimately retired to Mexico and lived many years after the expedition.

Beltrán may be Boone, writing under a pseudonym, and possibly wanted to keep his participation in the filibuster a secret. Alternatively, he may have been an acquaintance who appropriated Boone’s identity to conceal his own. Neither man is mentioned in other accounts of the expedition, although a young boy about 12 years old named “Peter Boon” is so noted and was reported to have been captured at Medina. He too, like Beltrán, later settled in Mexico. 

 

The Case for the Beltrán Account

As for Beltrán’s account of the expedition, it is colorful, precise, and even romantic. For this latter reason, some historians have questioned its veracity, some even suggesting it is an invention of Frontier Times editor John Warren Hunter in the 20th Century. It is at least partly authentic, however. It was published first in the 1920s before any of the other detailed primary accounts were generally known, (Hall's account existing, but not published) and before the first published book on the subject. Its aligns very well with McLane’s narrative, even though his account was lost to history until the 1960s, long after Beltrán’s account was written.

A modern reader attempting to determine its veracity must put himself back into the time period in which it was written. There were very few primary source documents from which any forgery could have been drawn, and all accounts in 19^th Century histories were very thin on details. Beltrán, however, calls to mind many details that only someone who was there, or had access to many other primary sources widely scattered, could have known. Bear in mind, most of the names of participants were never printed in the sketchy accounts available at the time. The evidence shows the account is genuine.

Beltrán knows too many Americans to be a Mexican forger, and too many Mexicans to be an American one. It is certainly possible that the story, while mostly true, is embellished. He could have dramatized events, or placed himself in a first-person position for something he really only heard second hand. But crucially he does not do this for one of the most dramatic events he reports, the murder of the royalists. 

Read critically with other sources lined up side-by-side, the account “rings” true as that of someone who was in San Antonio at the time he claims he was. He has information in no other accounts, and then has information in one account but not another, and the matching accounts are not always the same one. Here is one very strong example. Before the execution of the royalist officers, when the Anglo-American contingent is in uproar about the sentence of death, Bernardo Gutiérrez suddenly offers to send them to the coast and into exile instead. This story only exists in three places, crucially in Beltran, McLane (who effectively post-dates Beltran), and in the obscure (in the 1920s) Bullard account. This is how the accounts square up side-by-side.

The Beltrán, Hall, McLane and Bullard accounts side-by-side. Beltrán, McLane and Bullard
report the story of the incident, but Hall - the most widely cited at the time Beltrán's 
was discovered, does not. (Click for larger image).

Furthermore, there are specific identifiers that validate it as well. In the first place, Beltrán’s list of the Spanish royalists executed is one of the most accurate there is, more closely matching actual burial records than any known until the late 20th Century, but off on two names, making it unlikely any forger would have closely copied the official records and then introduced errors. It is more likely that he simply mis-remembered the names.

There are many instances in the account where the writer's knowlege is precise and highly accurate, but there is one obscure detail that proves without a doubt that the account is genuine: Beltrán in his account  places the uniquely named Orramel Johnston as a participant in the expedition. This is crucial, because of all the other first hand and even second-hand accounts, including Villars, Hall, McLane, or the various individuals who wrote letters to William Shaler, none ever mentioned Orramel Johnston, though several of them mentioned his brother Darius. However, Orramel - whose name is so unique it is impossible to imagine it being invented without a true source - did indeed participate. The document proving it, and indeed the only other account that establishes Orramel in Texas is a Johnston family genealogy written in 1897 – long after Beltrán (whoever he was) had died. It is significantly obscure that no author writing on this topic in since 1897 found it prior to myself stumbling upon it in a Google search in 2016 after the rare book was digitized. Moreover, Beltrán not only places him in the expedition, but correctly records that he was a trained physician.

Beltrán’s account, mentioning Dr. Orramel Johnston, as being
the intended recipient of the condemned Spanish prisoner's 
watch and ring.

The Johnston family history, of which no previous author was aware,
which mentions both Darius and Orramel Johnston's participation in the filibuster.
It also proves that the two young men were brothers of filibuster organizer
Josiah Stoddard Johnston and were older half brothers of future
Republic of Texas General Albert Sydney Johnston.

Who was Beltrán?

Beltrán’s identity is unprovable at this time, though the most likely connection is the Boone one, noted above. In his autobiographical section of his account, he also mentions a visit to Mexico in 1807 in the company of General James Wilkinson’s agent Walter Burling. The latter was a real man who visited Mexico on a secret mission at precisely this time. His aim was to visit Spanish officials on behalf of the treasonous General James Wilkinson, who almost certainly took a Spanish bribe to defeat the Burr Conspiracy. Burling’s mission – undoubtedly connected to this bribe – was, moreover, only well-known in the United States in 20th Century accounts of Wilkinson’s treason.

Spanish account of the arrival of Walter Burling 
on a secret mission, referenced in the Beltran account.

On this trip, Beltrán claimed to have met Zebulon Pike, returning from his imprisonment in Mexico. Pike leaves his own account of this trip, which allows a cross-check. At the Rio Grande, Pike records meeting two Americans. One is a man named Griffith, who is an American deserter in the Spanish service. This would align very well, since Beltrán claimed he was an acolyte of Burr who came to Texas rather than return home after the conspiracy failed, which is a very likely action for someone who was running from justice. Additionally, we know that while the Spanish generally sent captured Americans back to their home country, they often made exceptions for deserters, particularly if they had a skill and desire to serve the Spanish.

The other American Pike met in Mexico was in Pike’s account a man possibly affiliated with Burr and originally from Virginia. Beltrán, in his account, claimed to be a native of Wheeling, Virginia (today’s West Virginia). Pike claims his soldiers recognized the man as a murderer and denounced him to Spanish authorities. Another reason to be running from the United States. It is interesting to note that in Beltrán’s account, he takes great pleasure in noting how many of the American filibusters are running from justice in one form or another. Is he truly affronted by them, or was he secretly just like these men he criticized?

Was Beltrán in fact Daniel Boone (or Peter) writing under a pseudonym? Was he a deserter or a murderer reinventing himself by stealing Boone’s biography for his own? Whether it was these or any other scenario, the American’s account, as the evidence indicates, is at least partly true, although it certainly conceals something. It remains one of the most interesting, and elusive, mysteries of the war.

John Warren Hunter, “Some Early Tragedies of San Antonio,” Frontier Times, 18 No. 3 (Dec. 1940), 115. Johnston, 54. Orsi, 236. McDonald, 25. “P Boon” account by Villars in Charles Adams Gulick, Jr. The Papers of Mirabeau Buonaparte Lamar 6 Vol. (Austin: The Pemberton Press, 1968), 4(1):261.

Mexican/Tejano Rebels in the Texas Revolution of 1811-13

There are no remaining muster rolls of the rebels, and such records, if they existed, were likely burned. The following list of Mexican/Tejano rebels is from a variety of sources, including a list compiled by the Spanish of property belonging to the insurgents who fled Béxar. This list includes some Frenchmen who were legal residents of Nacogdoches. Source: Archivos del Estado de Coahuila at Saltillo.  No. 663, pages 456 to 473. Additional sources are noted in each entry.

Rebel Commanders:

Juan Bautista de las Casas – Leader of the January 1811 uprising against royalist Spain. Read more in the Handbook of Texas.

José Bernardo Gutiérrez de Lara – First political commander of the Republican Army of the North and Governor Protector of Texas from April-August 1813. Read more in the Handbook of Texas.

José Alvarez de Toledo – Second Governor Protector of Texas, August, 1813. Led the Republican Army of the North at the Battle of Medina. Later secured a Spanish pardon. Read more in the Handbook of Texas.

Outsiders (non-Texas or Mexican Hispanics in the army)

Juan Mariano Picornell – Native Spaniard, aid to Toledo.

 

Other Rebels:

Domingo Diego Acosta – On list of insurgents. In 1792 was a retired soldier of the presidio of San Antonio. RBB S3:48.

Pedro de Acosta

Francisco Arocha - President of the ruling Junta in San Antonio after the declaration of Texas Independence in April, 1813. He was on the list of insurgents whose property was confiscated. After the battle, a building he owned in San Antonio was used by General Arredondo to house prisoners from the Battle of Medina. Eight of these men suffocated during the first night they were confined. 

Josefa Nuñez de Arocha – The woman who stood up to General Arredondo during the public execution of rebels. She was the wife of Francisco Arocha and sister-in-law of Tomás Arocha (both on the Béxar Junta), and relative of Manuel and Antonio Delgado. While the daughter was a descendant of the Isleño Arocha family, Doña Josefa was a descendant of an even older family, her grandfather, Miguel Nuñez Morillo, had come to Texas as a soldier in 1720. Josefa had born seven children in San Antonio. One account states that Arredondo asked for the identity of the woman who claimed she would make his stomach into a drum and offered a $500 reward for his private parts. Josefa answered that it was her. In another account, Arredondo called for the “Mexican Aunt” and she replied, “Here I am, nephew.” Matovina and De la Teja, 56, n. 54. Memoria de las cosas mas notables que acaesieron en Bexar el año de 13, Mandando el Tirano Arredondo.” Folsom, 99-100. Chabot, Menchaca, 19.

Josefa Paula Agapitha Arocha – Daughter of Josefa Nuñez de Arocha. Was the newlywed wife of Pedro Treviño, who was a rebel who deserted the Republican army and was recommended for promotion by General Arredondo after the battle. Josefa Paula offered a reward of 500 pesos for the head of her own husband. (Matovina and De la Teja, 56, n. 54. Matovina and De la Teja, 56, n. 54. Memoria de las cosas mas notables que acaesieron en Bexar el año de 13, Mandando el Tirano Arredondo.” Folsom, 99-100. 

Ramon de Arocha – On list of insurgents.

Tomás Arocha – Served on the ruling junta after the declaration of independence. He became interim president of Texas after Gutiérrez was forced to resign, but before Toledo arrived. He fled after the Battle of Medina, but was captured at the Trinity and marched back to San Antonio, barefoot and shackled. He was beheaded while his wife Angela Arocha was forced to watch. Schwartz, 61, 126.

Antonio Baca – On list of insurgents.

José Francisco Banegas – A royalist soldier in Nacogdoches who deserted and joined the Republican Army. Was used by Gutiérrez to bring propaganda back into Texas. Was captured and executed by the royalists. Schwartz, 13.

José Ignacio y Barva – Was a native of Nacogdoches who deserted the Republican Army at La Bahía on November 12, 1812, then later deserted the Spanish and arrived back in Nacogdoches prior to March 1, 1813. SWHQ, Vol. XLIX, page 422.

Joseph de la Baume

Bernardo Benites

José Benites

Nícolas Benites – Served as an officer in the Trinidad garrison before joining the Republicans. RBB S8

Petra Benitez

Beramendi (See Veramendi)

Ancelmo Bergara – Spanish royalist soldier who deserted to the rebels. Son of José Bergara and Maria Bernarda de Carbajal. Ancestry was Tlaxcaltecan Native American, family was among the founders of San Antonio in 1716. Bergara was used as a courier by Gutiérrez to bring rebel messages into San Antonio with Luís Grande. According to some accounts, he was executed by Governor Salcedo, but he appears to have survived, possibly escaped. Given his long career, it is possible that he had a son of the same name to whom subsequent details are attributed. An Ancelmo Bergara fought at the Battle of Medina, fought at the Battle of New Orleans, and was serving in Juan Seguín’s company of Tejanos in the 1836 revolution. He was possibly one of the couriers who reported the fall of the Alamo to General Sam Houston. Possibly served as a spy for the Republic of Texas in 1842 in Coahuila. Schwartz, 21-22. Genealogical information provided by Richard Santos of San Antonio, was published in www.tejanosunidos.org (accessed April 16, 2019 – website no longer available).

Juan Blanco

Nepomuceno Bocanegra

Francisco Borrego – On list of insurgents.

Jose Antonio Carbajal – On list of insurgents.

Antonio Carmona

Francisco Carmona

Francisco de la Cerda

Marcelo Cervantes

Antonio Castro

Miguel Castro

Juan Cortés – Served in the Spanish Army as a captain in 1790s, delivering gifts to Indians. In 1792 was involved in contraband trade importing tobacco and other goods into Nacogdoches. Fled after 1796 to Louisiana. Served as trader in Natchitoches and New Orleans, working for Davenport and Barr (who died in Cortés’ home), but also for the American merchant Benjamin Morgan. Juan Cortés was one of the first people who met Gutiérrez in Natchitoches after his escape in 1811. Subsequently, he brought Gutiérrez and William Shaler upstream from New Orleans to Natchitoches in 1812-13. Was likely instrumental in connecting Gutiérrez with Burrite networks in Louisiana.  RBB S3:37, 271.

Remigio Cruz

José Cuevas

José Antonio Curbelo – On list of insurgents. He apparently survived and was involved with other filibustering expeditions as late as 1817. Ancestry here.

Juan Antonio Curbelo – Fought at Medina, survived and died in exile in Louisiana. From information provided to the author by a descendant, Roland Corbello.

Antonio Delgado – Rebel commander at La Bahía, Alazán and Medina. Son of Manuel Martin Delgado. He was responsible for the execution of 14 royalists, including Governors Manuel Salcedo and Simón Herrera.

Clemente Delgado – Served on the elected town council of San Antonio in early 1800s. RBB S4:427.

Gavino Delgado – In the Casas Revolt, had been one of the rebel agents to Nacogoches. Joined in the Zambrano coup, and later deserted the Spanish forces to join with the Republican ARmy of the North somewhere in Northeast Texas. Negotiated with Governor Manuel Salcedo to achieve the surrender of San Antonio. 

Manuel Delgado – Served on the elected town council of San Antonio (alongside Clemente) in early 1800s. RBB S4:427.

José Manuel Delgado/José Delgado – (Possibly same as Manuel Delgado)

Joaquín Delgado

Juan Manuel Enriquez – On list of insurgents.

Feliz Estrada

Tomás Examia – A Spanish corporal who deserted during the siege of La Bahía. Served faithfully in the Republican army.

Jesus Falcon

Francisco Farias

José Andreas Farias – Listed as a corporal in the Company of Béxar in Jan. 1800. (RBB S4:46) Fought in the Battle of Medina, according to George Farias, the Past President of the Los Béxareños Genealogy Society.

Antonio Flores – Was the adjutant of the Mexican contingent of the Republican Army of the North at the outset of the campaign. He swore in the captives taken from the Spanish at Salitre Prairie in August, 1812.

Miguel Flores

Sabas Fuentes – Secretary to Bernardo Gutiérrez during the revolution.

El Frances Galet (“The Frenchman Galet”)

Juan Galván – Possibly a very early deserter to the Republicans, who carried messages to Ignacio Lopez Rayón and to José Gutiérrez, brother of Bernardo. Served as an officer in the Republican forces in the early stages of the campaign in Texas. At La Bahía, it was his desertion (or capture) back to the Spanish with the horses that caused Augustus Magee to distrust the Mexican contingent. Back in Spanish service, he captured three Americans and 300 horses prior to the Battle of Alazán. He was serving as a sergeant in the Béxar Company of the Spanish army as late as 1819. Schwartz, 13, 24, 127-130.

José Luis Gallardo

Juan Garcia – A sergeant in the Mexican contingent of the Republican Army of the North. (Shaler Papers).

Juana de la Garza

Ygnacio y Vicente de la Garza

Luís Grande – Arrested in 1787 for singing a subversive song. Later, his daughter married the French officer in Spanish service, Bernard Despallier. When Despallier joined forces with Gutiérrez, Luís Grande was used as a courier of propaganda into San Antonio, where he was captured and executed in the Alamo. Two of his grandsons, Charles Despallier (Carlos Espalier) and Blaz Phillippe Despallier, served in the Alamo, with the latter leaving before the siege due to illness and later serving at the Battle of San Jacinto.

José María Guadiana – Spanish officer turned Republican commander. Served as Nacogdoches garrison commander tracking smugglers like Phillip Nolan. Rode alongside Augustus Magee in the joint patrol of the Neutral Ground in 1810. Supported the Casas revolt and was removed from command after Zambrano regained power for the royalists. Joined the Republican Army when it took Nacogdoches and served as commander of that post. Forwarded from 170-180 Mexican reinforcements to the Republican Army after the lifting of the siege of La Bahía. Joining the army in San Antonio, he was the chief organizer of the Mexican contingent prior to the Battle of Medina. Seriously wounded at the battle, he died while on the retreat up the Camino Real and was buried by a young relative. Schwartz, 28, 77, 126. RBB S4:3. RBB 4:103. Various additional sources.

Francisco Hernández – Identity unknown, but possibly the Francisco Xavier Hernandez whose children were born in San Antonio in 1816-17, or possibly José Francisco Hernández, who had children from 1808-17. In both cases, the dates suggest he survived and took a pardon. From Steve Gibson, “Descendants of Francisco Hernández,” Béxar Genealogy, available here.

Jose Andres Hernandez

Jose Antonio Hernandez

Xavier Laro

Joaquin Leal – Prominent resident of San Antonio, grandson of Juan Leal Goraz, the first mayor of the city. He was a cousin of Antonio Delgado. He and his family fled after the Battle of Medina with only a sack of corn plucked from their field. They were captured at Trinidad by Elizondo and Joaquin was executed. His daughter, Juana Leal de Tarín was the wife of Vicente Tarín.

José Leal

José Antonio de Leon

Jose Gil de Leyba

Domingo Losoya

Miguel Losoya

Antonio Martinez

Francisco Martinez

Juan Martinez

Miguel Menchaca – The senior Mexican/Tejano soldier in the Republican Army of the North. May have been in Louisiana when the filibuster began and joined Gutiérrez early. Upon Samuel Davenport’s departure, Menchaca appears to have assumed Davenport’s command of the native Mexican troops. At La Bahía, he led the ambush that opened the final battle. He distinguished himself in the pursuit of the retreating Spanish army and was wounded at Rosillo. Was in command of one wing of the Republican Army at the Battle of Medina. His wounding precipitated the collapse of the force. He died of his wounds shortly after the battle and was possibly buried by his compatriots not far from the Battlefield.

José Menchaca – Former Spanish soldier who switched sides and aided Gutiérrez in escaping through Texas in 1811. He was left behind to be the leader of the abortive 1811 filibuster on behalf of Gutiérrez. American sources suggest he betrayed the cause, though he may have merely been captured. He was sent to Chihuahua as a prisoner and died around 1820.

Luciano Menchaca – On list of insurgents.

José Maria Mona – A native of Nacogdoches who deserted to the Republican Army.

Gertrudis Montes

Miguel Musquiz – Spanish officer and former commandant at Nacogdoches who became a republican – probably not of his free will – after the capture of San Antonio. During the Battle of Medina, he deserted to the royalist cause and delivered the news to Arredondo that the republicans were exhausted and at the breaking point. This news gave the royalists a morale boost and led to their final victory.

Gabriel de la O

Gregorio Ortega – An Ensign in the Republican Army of the North, as noted in the Shaler Papers.

Manuel Pena

Ygnacio Pena

Adolfo Perez – Was in the scouting company of the Republican Army with Lt. Pablo Rodriguez. Both men fought in the Battle of Medina, were wounded and survived, but Perez was later captured and executed.

Ambrosio Perez

Bartolo Perez – Delivered a letter from Gutiérrez to Col. Ignacio Elizondo asking him to join the Republican Army of the North.

Manuel Perez – On list of insurgents.

Juan de Dios Perez – Was arrested in 1819 by Spanish Governor Martinez as a fugitive from the revolution. (Letters of Antonio Martinez).

Pedro Prado – Was among the Republican soldiers who marched the Spanish commanders to their execution. The Spanish government placed a 250 peso reward on his head.

Pedro Procela – A Spanish militiaman left in official command of Nacogdoches when the royalists abandoned the town. Joined Gutiérrez’ forces and was the man responsible for the letter attempting to draft the citizens of Bayou Pierre. After the republicans’ defeat, he changed his name to Pedro Chino and returned to obtain amnesty, but he had been exempted from amnesty by Arredondo and was arrested by Spanish Governor Martinez. He later escaped from jail with six others. (Letters of Antonio Martinez, 44-65).

Claudio Ramirez – On list of insurgents.

Lorenzo Ramos – On list of insurgents.

Manuel Rendon

Miguel del Rio

Mariano Rodriguez – Served on Gutiérrez’ ruling Junta in April, 1813. On August 4, after Gutiérrez resigned, Rodriguez was appointed interim secretary of the new government.

Lt. Pablo Rodriguez – A native of San Antonio and son of Elena Rodriguez. As a boy, he had been abducted by Comanches, who had killed his father. While staying with them, he made relations that he would later use in the revolution. He served in the company of scouts for the Republican Army, and recruited the Indian Chief Prieto, who informed the rebels that Arredondo was on his way to the city. It was his family with whom Carlos Beltrán lived from about 1808. He was close friends with Adolfo Perez, and served with him at Medina, was wounded and survived. Perez was later captured and executed.

Christoval Rodriguez

Francisco Rodriguez

José Antonio Ruiz

José Francisco Ruiz – Served in the Spanish forces as a militia captain. Was wounded at La Bahía and became a quartermaster. After the royalist defeat, he corresponded with Miguel Menchaca to negotiate a possible surrender deal. When the republicans took San Antonio, he joined them. After the Battle of Medina, he was the secretary of the government-in-exile in Louisiana, where he stayed for 9 years. He later signed the Texas Declaration of Independence of 1836 and served in the republic’s senate. Read more in the Handbook of Texas.

Antonio Saenz – One of the officers from Father Hidalgo’s command who came through Texas to deliver gold to purchase weapons during the period of the Casas revolt.

Juan Salazar – One of the officers from Father Hidalgo’s command who came through Texas to deliver gold to purchase weapons during the period of the Casas revolt.

Jose Sanchez – According to Beltrán’s account, was a nephew of Señora Elena Rodriguez. He had been wounded at the Battle of Rosillo and later served in Beltrán’s scouting troop. He traveled with Beltrán to the west to hide out with Comanches after the battle.

Manuel Sanchez

Nepomuceno San Miguel

Lieutenant Santos – A Republican Army soldier who was in the detachment that executed the royalist officers. Beltrán’s account suggests it was he who was asked to deliver a watch and ring to one of the governor’s wives (the account incorrectly states it was Governor Cordero, it was likely Governor Herrera).

Gertrudis de los Santos

José Antonio Saucedo – Served on Gutiérrez’s junta after April, 1813. He signed the letter to General Toledo to order him not to enter Texas.

Juan Savías (Sava) – Was a Spanish royalist officer captured near Nacogdoches. At the Siege of La Bahía, boldly led an expedition to secure much-needed livestock to feed the garrison in the middle of winter. Was part of the force that harassed royalists. Villars says he served with distinction, but he is not mentioned prominently in any sources after Rosillo, so he may have been injured in that battle.

Erasmo Seguin – The San Antonio postmaster and famous father of Juan Seguin was probably never a rebel by choice. After the republicans took San Antonio and executed the leading royalists, Erasmo Seguin offered to work for the rebel cause by obtaining supplies in Louisiana. Here he wrote several letters on behalf of the Toledo, which he later said were under duress by Toledo and William Shaler. He returned after the Battle of Medina and was tried for treason and found not guilty. He was restored to his offices and property.

Vicente Tarín – Served as a lancer in the Spanish Army, as a sergeant in the Second Flying Company of San Carlos de Parras, at the Alamo from 1803. In that year, a commander said of him, he “has much valor, suitable for discharging any commission except that of properties, is more intelligent [than other soldiers] in papers…is exact in the service, and commands with elegance the exercise of infantry and cavalry.” Was promoted to 2^nd Lieutenant and married Juana Leal in 1810. He joined the rebels, probably around Nacogdoches and served in most of the battles of the revolution, apparently as an officer, though the Mexican continent’s structure is poorly documented. Served in the Battle of Medina and survived. Was in exile in Louisiana while his wife endured abuse in San Antonio. Served in the Long Expedition and was one of the signatories of his Declaration of Independence.

Francisco Travieso – Initiated the Casas revolt in January 1811.

Vicente Travieso – Served on Gutiérrez’ junta after April 1813 and signed the letter to General Toledo to order him not to enter Texas. Fought at the Battle of Medina and survived. The Spanish government placed a 250 peso reward on his head. He was captured and executed by Spanish forces.

Joaquin del Toro

Juan Antonio Urrutia

José Flores Valdes

Juan Diego Velez

Fernando Veramendi

Juan Martin Veramendi – Was in the Zambrano counter coup, but later joined the Republicans. He fought at the Battle of Medina and fled along with José Francisco Ruiz, with a 250 peso bounty on his head. He remained for many years in exile and returned to Texas after independence, becoming a leading statesman. He was the Collector of Foreign Revenue in San Antonio under Mexico, and served on the convention that drafted the Mexican Constitution of 1824. His daughter Ursula married Jim Bowie. Read more about him in the Handbook of Texas.

Jose Antonio Villegas

Josefa Ynojosa (Hinojosa)

 

Carlos Espalier: The Alamo Defender Who Never Was...Sort of

The story of the Alamo is shrouded in myth and legend - and myth and legend are nothing if not prone to confusion, error and controversy. This is the story of one of those controversies, and how my research has, I respectfully suggest, finally solved it.

Among the lists of the defenders of the Alamo are two men with similar names: Charles Despallier and Carlos Espalier. They are, in fact, the same man. This is not the conventional wisdom. Older historians - and the Handbook of Texas - assert categorically that they are separate individuals. As the Handbook says, "Because of similarity in names the claim has been made that Carlos Espalier and Charles Despallier are the same person, but the claim is not accepted by most historians."

The Handbook elaborates: 

Suspicion arose regarding the Espalier-Despallier mix-up as early as 1856. Newspapers such as the New York Daily Tribune and The Weekly Telegraph (Houston) published articles in which they spoke about the matter in rather strong words—they suspected a fraud.

Land Grant for the Heirs of Charles Despallier

Land Grant for the Heirs of Carlos Espalier.

The Handbook then dismisses this theory, and asserts that Charles Despallier and Carlos Espalier are separate individuals. Here is how authors Rasmus Dahlqvist and Bill Groneman make the case:

Espalier's aunt was Carlos’s sole heir and was granted lands for his service. Some sources mention her as Doña Guardia de Luz, but her real name was Luzgarda Grande.

The Handbook then notes that Luzgarda Grande was the daughter of Luis Grande. Furthermore, Luis's son-in-law was Bernard Martin Despallier, a Frenchman in the Spanish military service in Louisiana who had moved to Texas. Despallier had married Grande's daughter Candida Grande. Then, with inexplicable logic, the Handbook concludes: 

So Luzgarda and Candida were sisters, making Carlos and Charles first cousins.

This is logical nonsense. The only way the two women being sisters would make the two offspring first cousins is if Carlos and Charles were their respective sons, not, as they actually are, a son and a nephew. Or, if there was a third sibling, they could be cousins, but there is no such person in any record. Since Luis Grande had only two daughters, and one of them had a nephew, the latter by definition had to be the son of the other, making Charles and Carlos brothers...or the same person (Since we know Bernard Despallier's children precisely, it must be the latter). I will graph it out to make the relationship clearer.

Another argument put forward for the claim that they are different individuals is that Carlos was allegedly 17 and Charles was 24 when they served at the Alamo. However, birth records only exist for Charles. This is therefore not a valid argument, since the age difference is nowhere documented and may have simply been a guess or incorrect statement on the part of Carlos's heir (his aunt).

Where "Carlos" Came From

Antonio Menchaca said he knew everyone at the Alamo, and stated Charles was Carlos: “I always heard him called Carlos Espalier and by no other name. I have seen him frequently sign his name Carlos Espalier.” The confusion likely stems from Carlos/Charles’ relationship with his aunt Luzgarde Grande, whom he actually called “mother” in Menchaca’s presence, despite the fact that Menchaca knew her to be his aunt. Thus, the man, whose father and mother lived in Lousiana, and aunt lived in Texas, would apparently use the American/French "Charles" in the former, and once he crossed the border, revert to "Carlos" among Hispanic Texans and live with his aunt, literally as her son. (Her only son by birth having already died). 

The Origin of the Name

Despallier is of course a French name. The construction comes from the French “Des Pallieres” or “D’Espallier” and means "From Les Palliers" - today a ghost town - located south of the commune of Les Loges-Marchis. 

The name is rare even in Europe, where it seems a family from this town who moved from there, adopted it to indicate their origins. As Rasmus Dahlqvist notes in his own biography of Bernard Despallier, 

Research in various archives taught me that the D'Espalier family only appeared around 1745 in Belgium. The surname was written in many different ways: Despallier, Espalier, even Spallier.

 

Thus, "Espalier" is merely a variant of "Despallier" and moreover, one more likely to be embraced by non-French speakers, who found it difficult and confusing to use names with apostrophes in them. Indeed, this is exactly what happened in Spanish Louisiana, where Bernard Despallier settled, and in Texas, where he moved in 1806.

That Espalier was the prefered Hispanization of Bernard Martin Despallier’s name, and that he was the only source of this name in Texas is obvious from a search of the Bexar Archives. I have a keyword-searchable copy of the Robert Bruce Blake Collection of the Bexar and Nacogdoches archives, and located nine volumes in which the name "Espalier" appears. With one exception that seems to be an error (a "Bautista Espallier" who never recurs in any of the 75 volumes) every one of the more than three dozen occurances of the name in the official Spanish archives is a reference to Bernard Martin Despallier, or in two instances, his wife. 

Sample occurrences of "Espalier" in the Bexar/Nacogdoches
Archives. Click image for larger version. 

*Note: the D or Dn. before his name in these references is "Don" the Spanish honorific.

If that isn't enough, this deposition from a Spanish interrogation should make it absolutely clear, since the person questioned is Luis Grande, father of Luzgarde and Candida:

Bernard Despallier is, in most occurrences in Spanish, Bernardo Espalier, and this is a unique name on the Texas/Louisiana frontier. Any children with this name are his and only his. 

It is likely that both Charles/Carlos’ mother Maria and her sister Luzgarde (one living in Louisiana, the other in Texas with a near adoptive relationship to her nephew) filed separate pension claims on his behalf, using different variations of his name, either through ignorance of the other’s claim, or through fraud. 

Either way, Charles and Carlos are the same man. In fact, you can read about him on my blog here: 

Alamo Hero Charles Despallier: Third Generation fighter forTexas Liberty

Thus, all of the lists of Alamo defenders, including the one on the Alamo Cenotaph - and the Alamo's own website - are wrong. 

From the Alamo's Website listing the "official" list of defenders.

Now, I understand that this may upset some people. After all, Tejanos excitedly claim Carlos Espalier as one of their own, a native son who died at the Alamo. And Louisianans claim Charles. The good news is, they can both claim him. 

After all, though his father was French, his mother was Candida Grande, of Texas, and her father, Luis Grande. Luis, who delivered his son-in-law Bernard Despallier's propaganda in the 1811-13 revolution, was in fact executed for revolutionary activities, almost certainly in the Alamo. Thus, Charles Despallier, aka Carlos Espalier, the Alamo defender, likely died within yards of where his grandfather did, both as martyrs to the cause. Combined with father Bernard's service, this makes him the only third generation fighter for Texas liberty. That's something to be proud of, whether you're Charles or Carlos.

Sources:

Rasmus Dahlqvist and Bill Groneman, “Espalier, Carlos,” HOTO, http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/fes16 (accessed May 18, 2020). Rasmus Dahlqvist,  From Martin to Despallier: The Story of A French Colonial Family. (Createspace Independent Publishing, 2013), 307.

A Veteran Looks back at the War on Terror

Normally, of course, this blog is devoted to my historical research, but today, September 11, 2021, I have to step back and reflect on the history of which I was a part

 

September 11 has a great deal of meaning to me. It is a powerful, emotional day of both national – and personal tragedy. It has, however, been a date in which I recalled the triumphs, the overcoming, the good that came out of such a horrible thing. For the last few years, this has been a solace amidst the sorrow, a salve to the suffering.

We all know where we were on that beautiful, crisp morning. For myself, I was preparing for work. I was the Deputy Press Secretary for U.S. Senator Phil Gramm, based in his Dallas, Texas office. I was still at breakfast when I saw the second plane hit the towers. I rushed into office and we gathered around the TV. Then came news from the Pentagon, and we realized the scope of the attacks. We evacuated the Senator’s office, of course, but somebody needed to man the phones and the fax machines and send out the press releases. And that someone was me. So I sat alone, all day, watching the footage, writing and editing press releases as my boss, Larry, dictated from locked-down Washington. I remember it like it was yesterday. Senator Gramm, who had just announced his retirement the week before, set the tone. His quote used a noun like a verb: “We Will War on Them.”

With the release sent out, I finally could pause. The news was no longer fresh, and I turned towards my big picture window with a panoramic view of the Dallas skyline. There was no noise. The streets, eerily empty. I stared out that window, looking for answers to the question, but my eyes kept drifting back to my own reflection in the glass. Who was I? More to the point, who was I meant to be? At the time, I was a 29-year-old single, young, urban professional – selfish, materialistic, and with inflated notions of my own importance as an up-and-coming political mover and shaker, filled to overflowing with ambition nearly tripping over itself.

I was a passionate student of history, in awe of the greatest generation, proud of the cold warriors who stood the wall when I was a mere child. But all that seemed over and superfluous. The world was at peace, the wall did not need to be manned. Then came the horror of that day, which shook and tore at my soul just as it did yours, and every American and even the souls of people throughout the world, some of whom didn’t even like our country. But it rent my ego apart, and exposed the lie that was my life: I was living for me, and people had died because someone wasn’t there. I’m not even sure I knew where there was, but there was a there, and the right someone in the right place, standing at the guardhouse on the wall against barbarism, could have done something, anything to stop it. And it occurred to me that the someone might be me.

Not me alone, of course, my ego was never that great. But lots of mes. A whole generation of them who needed to stand up just like Americans had done on December 8, 1941. This was our Pearl Harbor, and though we didn’t need 8 million men in arms, we needed someone.

At the time, the Army cutoff was 30 years old, or so I was told, and I was two months shy of that age. But after two years of searching, I found the right way to serve. The U.S. Navy was taking people up to 35, through what was called the Direct Commission Officer program. You join in the reserves, meaning you could keep your civilian career, you just sacrifice your private life: one weekend a month, two weeks a year, and then once you’re trained, you’re deployable. What’s more, the key need in the War on Terror was intelligence officers. The details they could train, but the skills they needed – research, writing, analysis – these were the sort of things I had been doing in my civilian career, which had started in journalism before winding its way into public policy.

Sworn in at Texas State Capitol, 2004

So in 2004, I raised my hand at the Speaker’s dais in the Texas House of Representatives – where I worked by that time – and became an ensign in the United States Navy. I was so focused on getting in and doing my part to serve that I never even read the fine print. I was committing to 8 years. I saw that and said, well, yeah, I can do that. That was 17 years ago. I’m still in.

I spent the first few years getting my clearances and learning all I could about intelligence. Basically if you want to know what Navy intel is, it’s what the two civilians are doing in Hunt for Red October and Top Gun, only it’s really Navy personnel doing it most of the time. But of course, in the War on Terror, the enemy doesn’t really have much of a navy, so I was told from the beginning that I was an interchangeable unit; I would be trained in joint intelligence and when the time came up, I would be loaned out to the army.

Of course, it got real when I had to deploy, and knowing that my time was coming, I chose to call my own shot. I didn’t want to go to some extraneous theater – even though there really is no such thing in such a conflict – but I wanted to go where the action was. So in 2007, I volunteered to deploy to Iraq. After two weeks of training, including very basic combat training (which consisted of Army guys showing us how to not get killed so that we Navy folks would not be a burden on our army counterparts), I deployed, first to Camp Virginia, Kuwait, arriving in the blistering month of August. I pulled my utterly wrinkled uniform out of my bag on that first day, and outside, where the temperature was pushing 130, my uniform was pressed within five minutes – by the ambient air. Further training, including additional rifle instruction, and I was ready to depart, via Ali Al Saleem Air Force Base, to Baghdad. Only at the last minute did I check the date: I was flying into Baghdad on September 11, 2007.

A C-17, far roomier than the C-130

It was a dangerous time to be in Iraq. The military newspaper, the Stars and Stripes had just reported that the casualties and attack levels in Iraq had reached their highest level ever. We loaded up on a C-130, packed so close that the rail-thin African-American female Air Force officer across from me had her knees interlaced with my own. She looked properly terrified, and I gave her smiles of encouragement, but could say nothing, because it’s a C-130 and they are louder than being inside the engine of a NASCAR racer. Anyway, we came in at night, and as we approached Baghdad International Airport (BIAP), the C-130 plane spiraled in with a corkscrew pattern. I can’t recall if it was that flight, or another one later on, but on one of them I saw through the small porthole window as a streak of light – which I later found out was an RPG rocket – stabbed across the sky in some insurgent’s futile attempt to target our aircraft by sound in the darkness.

We arrived sometime after midnight and I spent a miserable night sleeping on gravel next to all my gear, the next day hitching a ride across the large, sprawling Camp Victory – about the size of a U.S. city – to a transient camp, where I would stay until I got my permanent housing. Exhausted from the flight, from the gravel, and from the brutal heat and sand, I climbed into my rack about 4 pm and went to sleep. What happened next I will quote from my Iraq blog:

A rocket attack on Camp Victory, Baghdad

I’d been up for over 24 hours, so after checking in at work, I had the day off to relax. I went back to my tent, unpacked my gear, and lay down to take a nap.

Boom!

I perked up my ears.

Whoooshhh!

A sound, very clearly of some large object flying through the sky, from my left to my right, as I sat in my tent.

BOOM!

I sat up. At about that moment, the loudspeakers outside cried, “Incoming!” I had no fear. I had heard the object clearly, and it had passed completely over me – perhaps a little bit far off. A few minutes later, the all-clear sounded. I went back to sleep.

 From my training, I knew that insurgents shot off mortars and other objects at our large base every few days, and that they were poorly aimed, and almost never hit anything substantial. Later that day, I talked to an Army Captain. The object I had heard was indeed a rocket of some sort, and it had landed near the center of the base. The first sound was the launching, then I heard it's trajectory, and then finally, it's impact.

 It was a 240 mm rocket – the largest ever fired by insurgents in Iraq – and it had gone right over my tent. The explosion, I later learned, killed two, neither Americans, but allies. It was the insurgents sending a message on September 11.

The next day I was told when and where to report, and thus made my way to the Al Faw Palace, on Camp Victory, adjacent to the airport. It was an old palace of Saddam Hussein, which among other things, featured a throne that had been presented to the dictator by Yassir Arafat. This was the administrative heart of the whole war in Iraq, and I was assigned to the Joint Operations Center there.

Al Faw Palace, Baghdad

Over the last few months, I had been steeling myself for all sorts of dangers, and had walled myself away from the outside world to focus on this new reality. But now, on September 11, I was once again blindsided from a completely unexpected direction. Arriving at my work, instead of being put to work immediately, I was told to report to the Command Sergeant Major, who received me with a very sober look. He handed over a paper. At the top of it was the symbol of the International Red Cross. It read, “Your father is sick…actually dying.”

Indeed, he had already died before I even read the letter. And thus September 11 assumed a new meaning that for me, virtually eclipsed the already-horrible one it had for everyone else. Returning home on emergency leave for the funeral, I took a while to reacclimate once I returned to Iraq. But I settled in and began my own mission. It had to go on and it needed me.

The stark world of the deployed:
My home in Baghdad, known as "Dodge City."

Most of what I did was at a classified level, but I can explain it in simple terms: As the Intelligence Battle Watch Captain, I analyzed insurgent tactics, techniques and procedures, wrote daily summaries of their activity, provided analysis projects on demand and spot analysis for the JOC commander. In one case I recall, a helicopter hit a power line and made a hard landing and the crew needed to be evacuated and the aircraft recovered. I did a route analysis of all the IED and EFP (explosively-formed penetrator) hits on convoys for the past few weeks, mapped a path with the least likelihood of ambush, and made my recommendation. The colonel took my map, didn’t even bat an eye, and gave the green light. I sweated every minute though, because more than a dozen men had their life on the line because I made my best guess. The QRF (Quick Reaction Force) and the recovery team got out, got the crew and the bird, and got out without a single attack.

The impact site of a rocket that hit a little close to home
My trailer is behind me. October 2008

There were some tough days, some good days and a lot of mundane days. We got rocket attacks on our base fairly frequently in the latter part of 2007. Most of the time I was in the chow hall – the enemy loved to attack during mealtime in hopes of scoring a big hit – or in my trailer. In the latter, I started off by donning my full body armor as soon as the alerts sounded. Then after a while, I’d simply pull my vest off the floor and lay it over me and go back to sleep. Eventually, I’d just sleep through the attacks. Frequently, they’d come in volleys, and they’d bracket me to all four cardinal directions. One time they actually did hit my trailer, or to be more precise, the concrete barrier outside it. The rocket, exploding, sent shrapnel through my trailer, but fortunately I was not there. Five minutes before, I had left it to go to breakfast, because I was a little hungrier that day than normal.

With the boss, General David Petraeus

We had great success while I was in Iraq. It was the time of the Sunni Awakening, when the good guys finally stood up and started fighting against Al Qaeda, which was also being called the “Islamic State” by that time. Attacks fell precipitously, from 180 a day to 15 by the time I left in June 2008. Two years later, the country was almost peaceful. But I knew at the time it was a false lull. If we pulled out the troops, I knew from experience, IS would come back. And so they did, and a lot more lives were lost because we pulled out too early.

On Saddam Hussein's throne, Baghdad

Back in the U.S. I resumed my civilian job and went back to being a reservist. And eventually, I even got to be a Navy officer for a change. Switching over to the Pacific, I did eight exercises alongside the Republic of Korea forces, practicing defense of that nation. I did additional exercises in Australia, the Philippines and Japan over the next few years.

Finally, in 2017, I knew my time was up and I had to go back and resume my watch on the wall. It was harder now. I had a family – a wife and a child – who I loved dearly, and from whom parting was indeed a sweet sorrow. Indeed, I had to skip out from my very clingy five-year-old son on his birthday, sneaking out of the room while he was pre-occupied, to avoid a meltdown. That bothered me and still does to this day.

This time my destination was Afghanistan. This was where the War on Terror began, but of course, it was a different war now. Literally. The Taliban of 2001 was utterly defeated, and had basically been consigned to exile in Pakistan. But they regrouped, founded new funding (including deciding that Opium, which is offensive to true Islam, was actually OK if it allowed them to buy weapons), and had returned in full force. Still, while I served in that country from 2017-18, we kept them at bay. Sure, they would take a district center here and there, but the Afghans would take it back in a few weeks, and fundamentally neither side gained ground. It was a stalemate. A stalemate that could have endured indefinitely with an American presence.

Afghanistan, 2018

Once again, I served in an analytical capacity, this time doing strategic-level work. I can’t recount too many examples, but one that stuck with me and was widely reported in the papers was the attack on a major hotel in Kabul. I was sitting in an office with the colonel and a two-star general when we noticed something odd in a video feed. We watched the attack happen live, and saw the horrible fate of many innocent civilians. Another time, there was a suicide bombing right outside our base. I knew something was up instantly, because there had been an attack in the same spot two weeks before. That usually means it’s a test, and the second one is likely a bait attack. I watched the live footage of the event – which was about 100 yards from me, on the other side of a wall. Then I saw the camera pan to a crowd that had gathered. It zoomed in on them and I instantly recognized them as journalists. Having been one myself, I knew that gaggle instantly. All the journalists had gathered on a street corner at a sufficient distance from the attack, and were setting up for their live feeds. I instantly knew what the bait had been for. It was not for us, but for them. Sure enough, a few seconds later, with the camera still right on them, the crowd of journalists erupted in a ball of flame and smoke. A terrorist had ridden up on a bicycle with explosives stashed inside its frame and set it off. As the smoke cleared, I saw the carnage, and the last moments of some of the Afghan journalists as they tried to crawl away, some with only one working arm. Finally they simply stopped crawling.

These are the sort of things I saw far too often during my deployments. There was the woman in Iraq whose head, arms and legs were severed, her naked body left as a warning to her village. The blood flowed out and even her breasts collapsed inward on themselves. The most shocking though was when IS recruited two young girls with Down’s Syndrome to be suicide bombers. The girls probably didn’t know what they were doing. They were probably told to carry this backpack into the square, stand by the post, and wait for someone to meet them. Who knows the story. But the terrorists sent these two helpless, poor girls out there with backpacks full of explosives and ball bearings – the weapon of choice for the carnage they cause once released at several hundred miles per hour – and from some safe distance, the terrorists pressed a button and vaporized the two girls, alongside a dozen other innocent Iraqis. They weren’t completely destroyed, of course. Their heads survived, and one of them landed right upright, as if she was not dead, but buried in sand as part of a game. I saw the picture and instantly knew she was Downs Syndrome. I had it in my report before the forensics came in. I knew the look. I see that face, even today, in my dreams.

With my team, Iraq, 2008

Severed heads were not uncommon at suicide bombings. Especially when vests were used. They’d blow up the middle section of the bomber and frequently the head would pop right off. In one case, the head of a young man landed upright and was still there moments later when a local TV reporter arrived on the scene. The head was alive still, and the man (minus vocal cords) was mouthing some words and looking around, the eyes tracking the reporter as he circled the head. It only lasted a few seconds, then they stopped.

Why do I recount these stories? I guess to get them off my chest. There are far more that I could remember. Some I’ve tried to suppress. I guess the point I want to make is that while we’ve been sitting at home watching Dancing With the Stars, this is the world outside there. Real, raw, flies-on-the-eyeballs. It’s what evil looks like in the flesh, and it’s not a figment of our imaginations. September 11 has been happening all over the world, every day, in miniature, and still does to this day. This is what the War on Terror means, and why I fought it. This is an evil that you don’t see in America precisely because we have people standing on the walls. We have been standing on the walls – and some folks a LOT longer than myself – for 20 years now, and those walls will not suddenly grow peaceful with the watch pulled in.

US Embassy, Kabul Afghanistan

This is what angers me about what has come to pass in recent weeks. We simply decided we were tired of it all and pulled back. We were keeping the lid on the insurgency in Afghanistan with a footprint (when I was there) of 10,000 American and 10,000 NATO troops. That’s peanuts. To put it in perspective, after the January 6 riot, the Biden administration flooded Washington with 25,000 troops. Thus we had twice as many Americans guarding mostly-empty congressional buildings than we had standing the wall on the War on Terror. And even then we decided to pull them back.

Maddingly so, the way we did it made collapse of our allies a foregone conclusion. We never even gave the Afghan Army the chance to train to fight without the ubiquitous American airpower. They simply had a phone line they could call for air support one day, and the next they called and got nothing. Afghanistan has a “fighting season.” It’s the summer. It’s a time when the enemy presses the Afghan National Army hard, throws all their chips in, and for the past 18 years, they’ve been defeated with significant losses, then they vanish for the winter to rebuild and try again next year. Yet the present administration chose to pull out of Afghanistan in the middle of the fighting season. That’s like pitching a softball to Babe Ruth. We pulled out of Bagram Air Force Base so fast, the Afghan contingent at the base didn’t even know how to turn the power back on.

The way Afghanistan ended is morally bankrupt. It’s as if we pulled up to the gates of Dachau, opened them, passed out some food for a time, then decided, nah, it’s not worth it, and gave it back to the SS while the prisoners looked at us in horror. The abandonment of our allies to certain death in such a callous manner is unprecedented in U.S. history. It’s the single most morally compromised act of a United States president since the Trail of Tears.

I suppose I should end on a hopeful note. I wish I could. I wish I could say that 20 years on, we put 9/11 in the rearview mirror and consigned the world of large-scale terror to the Ashheep of History. But I can’t. We have done nothing of the sort. We have in fact revived it. We have not even gone back to September 10, 2001, because on that date, there was a real live rebel movement in Afghanistan to fight the Taliban (which doesn’t exist now), and America had allies around the world who believed – who could believe – in our word of honor, and were ready and willing to fight alongside us. Who will believe our word today?

The last few weeks have left me – and every veteran I know – with a seething, boiling internal rage and discord. But we know what we did. We know what the sacrifices were, and whether or not they were all worth it, or whether or not we made mistakes here and mistakes there, we did stand the wall, and that is worth it. Because the wall needs to be stood. As George Orwell famously said, “We sleep safely in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm.” Those are the men – and women – on the wall, and though our leaders may have grown coward, we are still here, and we are still standing. We will continue to stand, continue to serve. And we will be needed. If you thought the forever war was bad, just wait and see what comes next. I guarantee you it will not be pretty. When the worst comes, there will be recriminations enough. Some justified, some not. It doesn’t matter. When the call goes out, the wall must be manned again, wherever it is.

James Aalan Bernsen

September 11, 2021

The Men on the Wall