The Confederate Army of America can be said to fight and fight vigorously, but for the Union Army of Indians, war is a cautious adventure on thin ice.

It needs to be measured repeatedly and calculated precisely, and even on the eve of having to attack, it is still hesitating and tentative.

Where there is a glimmer of hope for peace, it is willing to work for it.

There is no other reason for these two very different fighting styles -

The Confederation of America and the Union of Indians are not at all rivals on the same level. Even now, Washington has not seen the Indian Union as a real threat.

Even if the Union of Indians had defeated Fremont, defeated Stephen Carney, occupied the Sierra Madre, and expanded west of the Missouri River—

But so what?

A fragile old man who is riddled with all kinds of diseases, even if he holds a gold brick in his arms, cannot be called rich.

A cripple who is deaf, blind, and dying of breath, even if he has a musket in his hand, is not a threat.

One is a capitalist power that is about to complete industrialization, and the other is a tribal alliance that is still slash-and-burn, and the two have an essential gap in the dimension of strength, which is not at all something that can be bridged by strategy and tactics in the short term.

If the American Federation had been willing to wait, it would have not had to do anything, and the Union of Indians would have died out of course - if the capitalists in the Union were willing to make money a little slower, it could have waited quietly for its enemies to come to the end of their lives!

Zachary Taylor placed 80 cannons under Mexico City, not because he only had 80 cannons, but simply because he was allowed to put 80 cannons in the open space under Mexico City.

The Indian League laid 30 cannons in El Paso, not because El Paso was small, or because the Indian army was overconfident, but simply because they only had 30 cannons.

Zachary Taylor surrounded 20,000 horses under Mexico City, not because he only had 20,000 horses, but because Mexico City was so narrow that it could only surround 20,000 horses.

The Indian League had an army of 5,000 men on each side of El Paso, not because the Union felt that such a force was sufficient, but because it had the only two 5,000 troops to fight at this point in time.

Just like the well-known story, some people can score 100 points because the test paper only has 100 points, while some people can score 100 points because their ability is 100 points at most.

The same result, but the power is fundamentally different.

Now, these two enemies, who have a huge disparity in strength, are on the same battlefield.

They hadn't met yet, but they saw each other's presence across a collapsing Mexico City.

The performance of both sides on the battlefield is just like the style of the generals of both sides:

Zachary Taylor was rude and brutal, taking a puff of a thumb-thick cigar and throwing it away, and scolding Cuban girls for their thighs being as thick as stones. He could look at Mexico City under artillery fire while tearing through a piece of scrap paper and writing military orders at will, leaving Winfield at sea to mind his business;

Fifteen dollars were cautious, confirmed and confirmed a piece of information, drew and drew on the map with a pen, thought and thought, and did not say a word for a long time, and finally wrote a military order, but tore it up by himself!

At 0:00 on May 1, the U.S. military's ultimatum to Mexico expired, and it was also the moment when the Indian army's ultimatum to El Paso expired-

Zachary Taylor can wave his hand wisely and decisively, and say, "Give Lao Tzu a hard beating!" ”

Fifteen dollars thought about it for a long time and said, "Then ...... Give them another two hours! ”

……

War is not as fast as possible.

It's about getting the rhythm right!

The Indian army besieging El Paso decided to slow down at this time and wait for the next drum beat.

Meanwhile, a young man with beautiful blond hair, politely thanking him for his kindness and kindness of fifteen dollars, made his way through the dense Indian Front to the El Paso Legion camp.

Neville Crockett, who left El Paso five years ago, is back where he came from.

The camp was still the same camp, completely unrepaired for 5 years, and the stone road leading to the Legion Commander's headquarters had broken and moss had grown out of the cracks.

The street trees on both sides are shady like broken roofs, and they look like old mountain ghosts in the light of the raging fire.

The guards at the gate of the camp grew beards, and when they greeted him, they were slow and clumsy, and the barrels of their guns were dark, and they had not been oiled for a long time.

"Captain Crockett, long time no see!" The people who came to greet him still called him 'Captain', as if their memories were still stuck in five years.

"Ensign François, it's a pleasure to meet you!" Neville Crockett gave him a hug and only felt that the person in his arm had lost a lot of weight. The original François was a big fat man!

"The Legion Commander asked me to pick you up, let's go this way, I'll lead the way!" François said.

"No, let me go in by myself!" Neville Crockett said, "I shouldn't get lost, right? ”

François laughed a little and said, "Of course you won't get lost, you're already scurrying around the camp when you're a little kid - then go in yourself, the old head may need a little comfort, and I won't bother!" ”

"Thank you, François!" Neville Crockett pulled a box of cigarettes out of his pocket and stuffed it to François, "I'll bring you a whole box next time!" ”

François took the cigarette case and looked at it, and the cigarette box was printed with the trademark "Gaul".

He stood still, watching Neville's back disappear into the deep hallway. He slowly opened the cigarette case, took one out of it, put it to his nose and sniffed it, and it was a long time before he lit it for himself.

The 'Gaul' brand cigarettes from the Setta Tobacco Company in France had not been smoked for more than 30 years in his memory!

The choking smell made his eyes moisten a little.

……

"Tuk Tuk!"

The door was open, but Neville Crockett knocked softly on it anyway.

In the dimly lit office, Old Crockett sat in front of his seat and raised his head slightly.

The pen in his hand did not put down, and like a silent sculpture, he quietly looked at Neville Crockett at the door.

"Colonel Crockett?" Neville Crockett broke the silence by leaning against the doorframe.

"You...... Coming back? Old Crockett made a muffled voice. Only an old man who has finally come to the end of his life after repeated disappointments can make such a sound, a dull breath, like the dim light in the room.

Neville Crockett nodded.

Then he stood up straight, remembered the tone of his hometown, and said in a voice as calm as possible:

"The Supreme Emperor of France, His Majesty the Great Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte, let me bring you his greetings, and the order to the El Paso Legion—"