Summoning Poseidon: A New America

Chapter 28

Central Calendar May 27th, 1640

Some hut, somewhere in Louria, United States of America

"I need more explanations," Santiago said. "Why are we doing so badly?" he asked.

"'Sir, if I may?'" an underling asked. Santiago nodded, which prompted the underling to continue."'The Americans are just so much more advanced than us in all aspects. There is literally nothing we can do if we fight head on. For instance, their air power is far too overwhelming. Our stopgap tactics have no effect on their jets, which is a big problem. On the ground, the american tactics are overwhelming us and we are not able to fight them head on. If we continue like this, we would definitely lose.'"

Santiago looked like he aged 10 years throughout the entire explanation. The confidence he had disintegrated and all his charisma vacated the premises. He slumped into his chair, eyes full of despair. Just days ago, he was more than confident that he might secure some form of victory. Now, he realized that he had made a large mistake. All the planning he had had long been thrown out of the window. Fighting head on is now complete suicide.

""Is there any way left for us?"" One of the captains asked. ""I refuse to keep sending out troops if it would mean near 100% casualty rates. It's pointless. Some of my men are already deserting. Troop morale is insanely low at the moment.""

""'Cowards and traitors, all of them,'"" another captain said. ""'They should be honored that they are being martyred for the Lourian restoration!'""

""Yeah, let me guess, you have started shooting your own men to stop them from fleeing, truly a disgraceful act.""

The other captain banged the desk. ""'Desertion is more disgraceful. Those who desert deserve to be shot.'""

""Shooting your fellow Lourians? No wonder nobody is supporting us. Your dumb ass will get us to lose faster!""

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" Santiago yelled, trying to maintain order. "Is there…even any way to win?"

"'Not possible if we keep fighting head on like this. We have to drag it out with guerilla warfare, maybe then we can slowly exhaust the Americans.'"

Santiago sighed. Deep down, he knows that even this is not an easy win. If the support for their cause falls low enough, they won't even have ammo for their rifles, much less all the other equipment. He knows the chances of winning are low, and that is really depressing. He had completely underestimated the enemy, and now he is facing the consequences. It isn't the glorious war he wanted, but a slaughter. Alejandro de Tastramana was correct. Even with his limited understanding, he predicted it to not end well. Oh how he wished that he had listened. Santiago realized he was a fool, and had led his men to the darkest gates of Sheol.

The cabin was silent. Nobody knew what to say. They didn’t even know if winning was a possibility. In the first few days of the war, even with the use of modern weaponry, they couldn’t hope to beat back the American onslaught head on. The silence lasted until they were dismissed.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

50 nautical miles off the west coast of Rodenius

A single ship sailed towards the Rodenius continent. The ship is oddly angular. It has 4 triple turrets with medium caliber(6-inch) guns. The ship had weird towers, and the lack of guardrails and the somewhat smooth deck would make anybody working in health and safety get a heart attack. The ship also lacked any visible smoke stacks.

Onboard the ship, Captain Thomas Henderson was concerned. The Americans, being one of the two nations that popped up on the map recently, have been making headlines for quite a while. He had been sent to determine the attitude of the Americans towards the Empire. He wasn't too sure how sending a warship to some new nation would be allow for a good indicator to other nation's attitudes to the empire. It was ridiculous in his mind.