To the Last Man - Jeff Shaara [107]
He had been shocked by Funston’s death, had considered the man a friend, a commander capable of handling the storm of politics that swirled around the excursions into Mexico. From the first days below the Rio Grande, the mission to capture Pancho Villa had been a futile exercise, a three-legged dog pursuing a rabbit through the vast underbrush of northern Mexico. The pursuit itself had made good press in Washington, all manner of headlines trumpeting how the powerful hand of American justice would strike swiftly into the chaos of this uncivilized land. The War Department had cooperated fully in furnishing all the manpower Pershing felt was needed. But the reality had driven his officers and men to utter frustration, had propelled some of his more undisciplined units to take matters into their own hands, something that would not make good press at all. In the more remote outposts south of the border, reports began to filter back to Fort Bliss, sketchy details of assaults against innocent villagers, whose only crime might have been to allow Pancho Villa and his men a night’s rest. The failures to corral Villa’s slippery forces had taught Pershing several lessons. No matter how superior your troop strength, no matter your firepower and technology, in the enemy’s land, the enemy has the advantage. No matter how you pursue him, he is either everywhere or nowhere at all.
Despite the good press that Washington poured over the Mexican campaign, Pershing had never expected to be congratulated for the futility of his efforts. He had been given a mission, and the mission had failed. No matter what the newspapers said, no matter the pats on the back that came from the War Department, Pershing could not escape his own judgment. With the final withdrawal of troops from Mexico, there was no way now to correct the errors, no opportunity to launch some new offensive campaign that might benefit from the mistakes of the past. Pancho Villa would remain free, while in Washington, President Wilson would tiptoe along the fragile line of diplomacy with Mexico’s President Carranza. Since the start of Pershing’s pursuit of Villa, the Mexican government had been a reluctant partner, would never fully cooperate with the American forces, despite Carranza’s hatred of Pancho Villa. It was another lesson for Pershing. Though Villa had been a huge thorn in Carranza’s side, the two enemies had more in common than either would admit. When the Americans stepped in, the enemies seemed suddenly to find common ground, had shown a tolerance for each other just long enough to focus a shared hostility toward Pershing and his troops. It was the one piece of the Mexican puzzle Pershing was grateful to avoid. The problems of maintaining the delicate relationship with Carranza’s government no longer belonged to the army, but to Woodrow Wilson.
The one benefit to Pershing’s new responsibility was that, finally, he could look beyond the dismal countryside below the Rio Grande and focus on the deepening turmoil that the Great War was causing the American government. Most of his officers felt as he did, that despite the president’s claims of neutrality, it was essential that the American army begin its own preparations for war. In no other part of the country was there a significant presence of trained soldiers, no kind of organization to prepare the troops for what they might encounter should they be called upon to go to France. With the Mexican campaign now concluded, Pershing realized that his command might become the foundation upon which the American army would have to rely. Mexico had brought out both the best and worst of his officers. The worst were either gone, or would be kept to harmless responsibilities. The best were finding new orders,