Free Dawn of Steam: Gods of the Sun by Jeffrey Cook, Sarah Symonds

of these risks might have ended the battle much sooner, and every moment that goes by now that I do not find something else to occupy my mind, I second-guess each pivotal point of the conflict.
    I fought the day not so much afraid of decisions, but set upon making the decisions that would have the best chance of preserving the fort and as many of our fighting men as I could. I know it is not particularly revolutionary or world-changi ng, but it seems that I am well liked among the men, and many credit me with their survival. Many of the former soldiers here have worked before under great generals who put their lives at greater risk for larger gains, especially among the Negro companies. Now it seems that I have done well for myself among these troops, and they will continue to fight for me if I must hold this fortress for long.
    As it was, the losses seemed too many. Though we held them off for a long time, they finally did reach the gates with sufficient force to try to penetrate them. I readied the men and quickly found that this was the hardest command to inspire: when the doorways are cracking under assault and explosion, there seems little chance that the invaders wil l be driven back. To our troops’ credit, they actually did drive one of these sorties off after the Spanish officer leading the charge was shot down. A number of men have tried to claim credit, but in truth it was a confused enough time that no one seems positive if it was a sniper's shot or simply a lucky moment.
    After the first failure, however, some officer on the other side rallied their troops, and a second sortie was arranged. While they took losses in approach, they managed to take the doors. We were fortunate to have the extra time between the first assault and the second, for by then I was able to organize some kind of group to meet them. Sadly, this emergency guard was composed mostly of men less than ideal to the task, many of whom lost their lives to either inexperience or being overeager for a chance to show their valor. Despite these losses, only a few men penetrated past the gate before we'd put them down.
    During this rush, my pepper-box pistol surprised a group when an entire bunch managed to get past the knot of defenders and attempted to charge my position. The last time I tried to use this weapon to its fullest capacity, the mechanism was frozen solid, but at least I had proven presence of mind to make the attempt. I remembered this time as well, shot three men dead, and crippled a fourth enough to blunt the charge. After the fourth shot, I continued to aim my empty gun at those who had taken cover, unsure how many shots I had. Ultimately they hesitated until some few of my men were able to engage with them and I had a chance to reload.
    No serious damage was done, and the final people who made it through our positions were killed by our support corps, who were eager for action by that point. They so outnumbered the Spanish, who were perhaps expecting more to be following, that our troops easily overwhelmed the invasion and so came out of the conflict mostly healthy, happy, and proud of their contribution to the war effort. There remains, however, dispute among their number about who should be credited with the handful of kills divided among ten times that number of men who felt they had a part in it.
    Once we drove off the party which destroyed the gates, we were able to form a company of muskets in the place of those wooden barriers. These shot down the next group who approached, full of courage and wishing to quickly retake the momentum they had lost, but failing. We lost more brave men there, and one flank broke entirely. Under other circumstances, it would have been disaster. For now, it was simply chaos.
    It is to me now to find the punishment for the men who broke under fire. While I have some small sympathy for those who struggle when faced with war and death for the first time, such failures of courage threaten the cohesion