New Orleans, Louisiana, the United States of America
November 5th, 1833
Captain Robert E. Lee, 5th Company Commander of the 6th Static Infantry Division, frowned as he looked at the Army engineer, "So, what is wrong with the telegraph lines?"
Corporal Obadiah Lincoln, a tall and lean Army engineer, hesitated before replying, "The lines are down, sir. And I'm fairly certain they were purposely sabotaged."
"Sabotaged?"
"Intentionally cut, sir."
"I know what sabotage means, corporal," Captain Lee said gruffly, "But for what reason?"
"I have no idea. It could have been the British, it could have been some locals that accidentally brought the lines down..."
The Army captain sighed, "Place the men on high alert and tell them to look out for any suspicious movements. We're at war, I hardly doubt that this act was accidental."
"Will do, sir."
The two men were within Fort Hamilton, a fortress that stood just west of the city of New Orleans. The fort guarded the mouth of the Mississippi River and was manned by two regiments of soldiers of the 6th Static Infantry Division. Within the bastion was fourteen 20-centimeter Totten guns, along with six M1802 12-Pound Howitzers. Most of the men stationed within the fort were green (a reference to the clean, dark green uniforms that the Army soldiers wore) and had little to no combat experience. There were a few veterans from the western front, such as himself and a few other soldiers, that taught the "greens" everything they had learned from their months in combat. Even still, memories and warnings could only do so much to help the regiments prepare themselves for actual combat. And as Captain Lee discovered the hard way, there was nothing "striking" about war. War was a game of survival and wits, a game which forced him to adapt and learn quickly in order to live.
As the captain walked on the southern walls of the fort, he pulled out his binoculars to see if there were any fleets in the area. The "Alliance" (as the coalition between Britain, Spain, Portugal, and the French "Empire" was known) had stepped up their raids on coastal cities bordering the Gulf of Mexico for the past several weeks. Before the telegraph lines were cut, his commanding officer (a colonel named Samuel Cooper) informed him that Pensacola, Okafi, Sovtaj, Hammock, Mobile, and Clarkston had all been bombarded, with their defenses in ruins. New Orleans was hit as well, but Fort Hamilton was just out of reach of the guns of the Alliance fleets so it remained standing. The raids unnerved Captain Lee for some odd reason as if he expected something unexpected to occur that would shatter the balance of the war. It was likely that the Alliance sought to demoralize the people of the United States by laying waste to any cities their guns could reach, but his gut feeling told him otherwise.
His eyes swept across the waters and spotted a few shapes on the horizon. He squinted and soon, the number of shapes increased from a dozen to several dozen to over a hundred. And they were coming closer. Captian Lee cursed as he raced to his CO's quarters. Every time he passed by one of his subordinates, he shouted a warning, "There's a large Alliance fleet coming towards New Orleans! Get to your stations!"
After informing his CO of the approaching fleet (that consisted of over a hundred ships), the Virginian stood near the artillery crews and waited for the fleet expectingly. This fleet wasn't just for raiding, he was absolutely sure. If anything, it looked like a full-scale invasion fleet.
The numerous ships of the Alliance opened up on the already-damaged city of New Orleans and Captain Lee winced as death rained on the city once more. A number of civilians had already left, but many more remained in the city to rebuild the once-proud and beautiful city on the Mississippi River. Colonel Cooper had ordered his men to remain within the safety of the fort, and despite his own personal feelings aside, the captain agreed with him. It would be foolish to send out the two regiments into the city while it was being hit with shells and shots. The bombardment lasted for nearly two hours before the enemy's guns fell silent. Shortly afterward, several ships moved closer and closer to the city's harbor, which was lightly damaged compared to the destruction in the rest of the city.
Colonel Cooper approached the captain and placed his right hand on the man's shoulder, "I have already sent out a messenger, but if it seems as though the fort is about to fall, you and your company are to evacuate and send out a warning to the rest of the United States. I have already asked Captain Barton to do the same with his company."
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"Sir..."
"That is an order captain. I do not care about your desire to hold your ground and fight. It is imperative that the rest of the military is aware of what is going on here in New Orleans! The telegraph lines are down!"
Suddenly, it made sense. The sabotaged telegraph lines. The numerous raids on the coastal cities for the past several weeks. The transfer of so many military units to Columbia.
The Alliance, with the British at its head, was invading the United States.
At least Virginia wasn't going to be invaded... Or so he hoped.
"Understood, sir," Captain Lee replied nonchalantly.
As soon as the Alliance ships started to unload in the harbor, the artillery pieces stationed within Fort Hamilton unleashed on the invaders. The captain watched as shells exploded upon the invaders while local militiamen and National Guardsmen scrambled to respond. The bombardment had taken a toll on the defenders, making them disorganized and battered compared to the "fresh" invading soldiers. Despite the American guns shelling the enemy as fast as they could, the enemy established a firm beachhead and advanced, pushing the defenders outside of the fort away from the harbor and towards the city's center. Colonel Cooper ordered the guns to hold fire, as the risk of friendly fire was far too great within the city itself.
Unfortunately, that meant the Alliance managed to pull out their own artillery pieces from the ships and started to rain fire on Fort Hamilton. Not only that, but the group of enemy soldiers split into two, with one heading directly towards Fort Hamilton. There was no doubt that the enemy sought to seize the fort for themselves. The regiments within the fort readied themselves for battle as the bastion's ordnance fired on the approaching soldiers without impunity. Several of the men on the walls were killed from the Alliance's siege artillery, which shook the morale of the men more than Captain Lee expected. He grimaced as offered words of encouragement to nearby soldiers, even as the amount of enemy fire increased.
Finally, the enemy soldiers were close enough for the defending soldiers to open fire on the enemy with their rifles. Captain Lee joined in with his Samuel rifle (a rifle made in 1824 that held fifteen rounds) and aimed for noticeable officers and NCOs like he was trained to do. Shells and shots rocked the walls, damaging them and knocking a few men off their feet. Canister shots fired into the Alliance ranks, though they did less damage than the captain would have liked (as the Alliance soldiers avoided bunching up into straight lines). Meanwhile, the attackers scattered and dug holes and trenches to take cover from the relentless American fire, while at the same time moved forward to put the American defenders in the range of their own rifles. Thousands of shots rang out and many hit the guardians of Fort Hamilton. Medics rushed to assist the screaming wounded while the others continued to fire as many bullets as they could towards the hostiles.
"Medic! I can't feel my arm!"
"Fuck, how many of them are there?!"
"Crew 4 is down! Can anyone fire the guns?"
"Captain Barton is dead!"
That last shout made Captain Lee fall back away from the walls. Captain Barton was supposed to retreat with him, but now he was dead. With Colonel Cooper occupied by ordering the troops, he knew he had to make a decision quickly. Grabbing a nearby drummer, the captain sent out an order for 5th and 6th Company to withdraw from the battle and to gather in the courtyard to flee through the northern gates. The colonel looked towards the drumming sound and gave a tired salute to Captain Lee, who returned the salute with his own.
It took a few minutes for the men to detach themselves from the walls and to gather, but once they did, Captain Lee wasted no time to order his men the situation and to start the retreat immediately. Ten minutes after he grabbed the drummer, the 5th and 6th Company of the 6th Static Infantry Division were withdrawing as fast as possible. Thankfully, the Alliance group that was attacking Fort Hamilton had no cavalry amongst its ranks and they were able to escape the heat of the battle with their lives intact.
From a distance, Captain Lee watched as the southern walls crumbled and the enemy pushed in. Despite all the destruction, the American flag, with 34 stars and 15 stripes, waved proudly above the roar of the battle. But he knew it wouldn't remain flying for long, he had to move before the enemy advanced even further into American territory.
"Where to sir?" Corporal Lincoln looked battered, but he remained on his feet and on alert, which was a good sign compared to some of the other men under his command.
His mind took a moment to think about the current situation. It was possible that New Orleans was not the only city that the Alliance was invading. He thought about all the cities that were bombarded by the Alliance and considered his options.
"Clarkston," The Virginian captain finally replied, "There is an infantry division coming up from Mexico after their fight in Oregon. They will be able to help us. One of our platoons will be sent up north to send a telegram directly to Columbia, but the rest of us will rally with the division."
Because when he thought about it... There were no other military divisions within the vicinity of Louisiana. The road was wide open for any invaders.