It is always
surprising how few Americans know anything about the Mexican Revolution of
1910-1920. Those turbulent years saw
more than a million Mexicans die, and roughly another quarter million seek
refuge in the United States.
Let’s put that
another way. The American Civil War is
the most violent war America has ever fought, creating more casualties than all
its other wars, from the American Revolution to the Korean War, combined. If we adjust for population, the Mexican
Revolution produced more than six times the casualties! And many of those battles were right on our
doorstep—literally within sight of American homes.
Just across the
Rio Grande from El Paso lies the city of Juarez. In many ways, this was where the revolution
really started—the capture of the city by the forces of future President Madero collapsed the
decades-old dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz.
Eight years later, the last great battle of Pancho Villa spelled the end
of the revolution and the beginning of the end for the bandit rebel.
Pancho Villa,
the larger than life bandit turned Revolutionary General, at one time had
amassed the most powerful army in Mexico, occupying Mexico City and most of the
country. However, by 1916, his army of
fewer than 300 men had attacked the New Mexico town of Columbus and spent the
next year in flight through the rugged territory of Northern Mexico as he was
chased by an invading American Army.
While the Punitive Expedition led by General Blackjack Pershing never
caught the elusive Villa, it had so greatly diminished Villa's army that he was
desperate to make a move that would revitalize his revolution.
During 1917 and
1918, Villa had skirmished around Northern Mexico, until he finally gathered
four thousand men and was ready for one last attack—And he returned to the
scene of his biggest triumphs, Juarez.
Villa knew that if his revolution was to have a chance, he had to hold a
border town where he would have access to supplies.
Finally, in June,
1919, General
Villa began the attack
on the border town. On June 12, Villa
and his troops moved into Zaragoza, a village just 12 miles east of Juarez. There, they stopped and prepared for the
attack. The Federal forces, under
General Gonzales, knew exactly where Villa was located and instead of
attacking, sent a female spy to interrogate the bandit chieftain.
Most of the tall
tales you hear about Pancho Villa are simply not true: they were made up (usually by Villa himself) to manipulate the
press. Villa (like a few Texans I know)
seldom told a story the same way twice, and a good part of his reputation was a
curious mixture of bullshit and bravado.
Take for example, the general view that Villa was a renowned consumer of
tequila. This was simply not true—Villa
did not drink: his secret vice was ice
cream. The photo at right shows the guerrilla general (seated on the left) and his men eating banana splits at the
Elite Confectionery in El Paso.
On the other
hand, almost all the stories about Villa and women are true, so sending a woman into Villa’s camp showed
cunning on the part of the Federals. The
spy was quickly captured, but she was not executed—a rarity in a war where
quarter was rarely given. Instead, she
was sent back to the Federal lines with a message from Villa that the Federal
troops were to surrender.
General Gonzales
wired President Carranza in Mexico City that he needed reinforcements, then
abandoned Juarez and took refuge in Fort Hidalgo, located just outside the
border city. Since there was little
difference between the ragtag uniforms his men were wearing and those of the
Villistas, Gonzales ordered his men to tie a strip of red cloth around their
hats.
Villa, atop a
prancing white horse, addressed his troops with a speech that was equal parts anti-Carranza
and anti-USA. He then led his troops to the racetrack on
the east side of the city. The Federal
garrison at Fort Guadalupe began firing its entire artillery battery—a single
one-pounder cannon. What the troops
lacked in accuracy, they made up in enthusiasm.
Villa rode unharmed
under the poorly aimed shells. One
cannonball did accidentally find its way to the racetrack as you can see from
the round hole in the dome of one of the racetrack spires.
At midnight,
Villa’s forces began the assault on the Federal trenches. Federal Colonel Francisco Del Arco later
reported that, at first, his machine guns stopped the advance of the Villistas.
Until, that is,
Villa diverted the waters of an irrigation ditch into the Federal trench. With water up to their hips, Del Arco’s men
still struggled to repulse another charge by Villa’s men—But that was just part
of Villa’s plan.
Close to the
trenches was an electric trolley car line.
Villa's men cut the electric line and tossed it into the water. As Del Arco later said, "Suddenly, I
felt as if a thousand needles were sticking into my body and I saw my men
doubling up as if with cramps."
Some of the
federal forces died while the more fortunate fought back even as they screamed
in pain. Somehow, Del Arco is able to
supervise the digging of a trench to divert the water once again.
Then, Villa
launched his main assault.
The Villistas
began hurling home-made bombs into the lines.
These were small leather bags filled with dynamite and an assortment of
nails, cut horseshoes, bolts, and rocks and hundreds of them were thrown into
the federal trenches. After 3 hours of
being shot at, flooded, electrocuted, and blown up, Del Arco's men withdrew
back to the safety of Fort Hidalgo.
This left the
city open to the Villista forces, who stormed into the town…and took a
break. While Prohibition in the US
started in 1920, in El Paso and the rest of Texas, Prohibition started in
1918. As the saloons had closed in El
Paso, they opened up in Juarez. And as
the bars reopened just across the bridge in Juarez, they brought the slot
machines, roulette and Keno tables that Texas lawmen had begun to frown on.
As soon as the
Villistas discovered such gambling dens as The Trivas, Bagdad, Big Kid, the
Palace, Central, and the Mint…well...fighting is dry work and a man could build
up a powerful thirst. The fact that a
few of these establishments offered entertainment of a personal and feminine
nature was also noted. Every good battle
needs a recess.
Meanwhile,
General Gonzales discovered that the Villistas were trying to infiltrate
Federal lines, so he ordered his troops to change from a red to a blue
hatband. (Get your program! You can’t tell the soldiers without a
program!)
Finally, the
Federals were ready to counter attack.
Colonel Escobar gathered his men together and rode back and forth on his
black horse in front of them, urging them to follow him as they surged forward
on their mission to sweep the Villista scum out of Jauarez….
Naturally, as
soon as this attack started, Escobar was shot in the chest. A hundred years earlier, you could have led
men on horseback while waving a sword. But,
even in Mexico, this was the 20th century.
Escobar’s
furious troopers ran off the last of the Villistas who weren't otherwise
occupied in the various bars and other assorted playhouses and the Villistas retreated, they opened the
cells of the city jail, releasing hundreds of criminals.
The Federal
troops put the wounded Escobar back on his horse and led him to the
international bridge where the waiting American army ambulance took him to a
hospital.
By now, the
Villistas—many of them rested and thoroughly relaxed (sated might be a better
word)—were returning back to the fight in the center of the city. As the sun set, the fighting was getting
worse, and a lot of the firing seemed to be directed toward El Paso.
American Brigadier General James Erwin had established a headquarters on the
tenth floor of the Mills Building in downtown El Paso, from which vantage point
he had an excellent view. For over a
month, he had held orders to protect El Paso, even giving him the option of
crossing over into Mexico at his discretion—and those orders specifically
mentioned the option of driving Villa away.
General Erwin
had more than enough troops to accomplish this mission and this was not the
same army that had ineffectually chased Villa across Northern Mexico: the veteran army had just returned home from
France.
Erwin placed his
men along the border, with machine guns in
place to guard the bridges. Four
batteries of artillery were set up at the Union stock yards, which were
rapid-firing 75-mm cannon that could fire a 3-inch explosive shell anywhere in
Juarez city. A searchlight battery was
also set up on top of the El Paso High School.
With all these preparations, General Erwin was ready for anything.
Reports of
casualties on the American side of the border soon started to flow in: stray
rounds were hitting civilians, including at least one child in her own
home. A few American soldiers had been
wounded—perhaps intentionally—along the border, as well.
General Erwin
sent his chief of staff to the stockyards to see if the sniper fire that had
just killed two soldiers was coming from Villa’s men or the Federal
troops. There was only one way to find
out, so he climbed to the roof of a building just opposite the rebel forces and
he was shot at: the forces of General
Pancho Villa were firing at Americans.
Note. To be fair, many of the Americans deserved
it. Hundreds of spectators ran to the
border and climbed on top of boxcars to watch the spectacle. Pretend you are a Mexican soldier fighting
for your life and as you take cover behind a brick wall and reload your rifle,
you notice just to the east, pendejo
gringos (Spanish for nice guys) watching you like you were in a bullring. Wouldn't you shoot at them?
General Erwin
immediately decided to invade Mexico again, and sent a messenger over to tell
Gonzales to get out of the way. (The US
has invaded Mexico so often that it is amazing they don’t move further away. This could be the real reason Trump might be
able to get them to pay for that wall.)
The 24th
Infantry Regiment gathered behind two armored cars and began the assault across
the bridge. At the same time, the Second
Cavalry Brigade prepared to swim the river 12 miles south of Juarez.
Trumpets sounded
Boots and Saddles, the troopers drew three days rations and ammo and then they
gathered at the border under the command of Colonel Selah H.R. “Tommy”
Tompkins, the senior colonel of the 7th cavalry (George Armstrong Custer's old
unit).
Colonel Tompkins
had been at Wounded Knee in 1890, he had battled the Apache in Arizona, had
been to Cuba with Roosevelt, had fought in the Philippines with General
MacArthur, and had chased Villa through Mexico with Pershing. The man was legendary for his fighting, his
drinking, and (above all else) his language.
He had once
occupied a reviewing stand with President Taft as his cavalry paraded
past. When Taft made an innocent remark
that the troops were “Fine men”, the cavalry officer had replied, “You bet your
ass they are.”
Tommy Tompkins
had flair—part of which was his long, bushy, forked, and pink beard—but most of it was in his attitude.
General Erwin
planned to crush Villa in a giant pincer movement as his 3600 troops sprang into action. The infantry was to cross the bridges, clear
out the downtown area, then wheel east toward the race track, thus driving the
Villistas in front of them. Ten miles
south, Colonel Tommy Tompkins and his cavalry, having already crossed the
border, would head west and wait in ambush.
As Erwin ordered
start of the pre-dawn attack, battery A fired high explosive shells while
battery B fired shrapnel rounds. Both
batteries fired 30 rounds each into the racetrack, which was the assembly point
of Villa's army.
This was far
different from the ineffective federal artillery. Almost immediately, The racetrack began to
look like a slaughterhouse. One of the
first rounds spectacularly blew up the water tower. It took Villa about a minute to size up the
new situation, and then he rode away and was not seen again on the battlefield.
Behind the two
machine-gun-equipped armored cars, the infantry with fixed bayonets spread into
Juarez. These units were followed by
motorized heavy machine-gun companies.
As the troops advanced, the signal corps strung communication wire,
keeping the men in telephone contact with General Erwin. Every officer carried a flare gun, and
progress of the American forces could clearly be seen as they spread through
the Mexican city by the glow of the green aerial flares.
At this point, a
Federal officer joined the US troops informing them that the Federal army, in
addition to the blue hatband, had now rolled up the left trouser leg and both
shirt sleeves. Anyone else who was armed was fair game.
As the Americans
moved up, exhausted Federal troops who had been fighting for 36 hours
retreated, their positions being taken by American troops. And just as steadily, the Villistas fled the
city.
Meanwhile,
twelve miles south of the city, Tompkins had crossed the river and was
approaching the town from the south.
Finally, Tompkins learned that the Villistas were gathered in the
Zaragoza Church, just 5 miles ahead of his forces.
Before the
Americans crossed
the Rio Grande, a superior office had cautioned Tompkins that this was no time
for him to be creative—that this attack should be done “by the book.” As his forces gathered in the predawn
darkness waiting word that Villa’s forces were coming, one junior officer
reminded Tompkins that “the book” specified that before an attack, there should
be a map briefing for the officers.
Unfortunately, no one had a map of Mexico—actually, they hadn’t brought a map
of anything.
Finally, one of
the officers located a map in his saddle bag—an old map he was using to write
an article about the Civil War. Eager to
comply with “the book”, Tompkins gathered his officers around a map of Gettysburg
and talked at length about the positions of Union Artillery the morning of July
3, 1863.
The
formalities attended to, Colonel Tompkins positioned the 5th Cavalry to the
right flank and the 7th to the center and left.
Along a three mile front, Tompkins addressed his troops in the dim
predawn light, then he raised his hand high, and for one of the last times in
the history of the United States Cavalry, screamed, "Charge!"
Tommy really
should have gotten a better map. In the
dark, the whole bunch galloped into a series of parallel irrigation canals, so
the whole attack was a fiasco of falling and crashing horses. Tompkins then ordered his men to fight on foot, and
using their Springfield rifles, the soldiers all but destroyed the fleeing
Villistas.
Eventually,
elements of the 5th Cavalry found a bridge across the ditches and chased the
remnants of Villas army for fifteen miles.
The cavalry
losses were mostly minor wounds.
Altogether, the US had two dead, eight wounded, and had lost forty
horses. The Federals claimed to have
lost fifty men, and estimates for Villa’s losses ranged from 500 to a
thousand. Tompkins noted that the path
of his army’s retreat was littered with hundreds of bodies.
More important,
Villa had lost any hope of seizing power in Mexico. While he attempted one more small attack
against a Mexican town, even Pancho Villa knew he was defeated. Within months, he accepted a pardon and spent
the rest of his life on his hacienda in Parral.
Juarez was angry
at the US for a while: On Monday, when
the repair crew from El Paso's electric railroad company went to Juarez to fix
the broken electric cable, they were stoned by the Juarez citizens until they
fled. By Tuesday, the bars were open
again and the trolley system the two towns shared was bringing Americans looking
for a good time across the border in a steady stream.
You kind of wonder how much the American enthusiasm for running off Villa had to do with reopening Juarez's bordellos, taverns and gambling halls.
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