"God..."
On the deck of the Admiral Frederis, Beresford's hand, clutching a telescope, would not stop trembling.
The backdrop of Caracas Port had taken on streaks of glaring blood-red.
Only minutes ago, the Portuguese Army soldiers had stood in neat ranks, surging arrogantly toward the lone fortress on the western side. Now, it was impossible to tell where intact men ended and fragments of bodies began.
They had been churned into a single mass across the beach, mixed with Percussion Cap Guns, military flags, and the like, like rubbish casually cast aside by God... His staff officer cautiously reminded him from beside him, "commander, the Spaniards clearly came prepared. I suggest we retreat at once." "Damn it!"
Colonel Beresford saw several columns of water erupt from the sea not far to the south and knew that the fortress's 32-pounder Cannons were shelling them. He glanced again at the hell-on-earth beachhead and roared, "Bring the transports close to shore! Lower every landing boat and get the Marines back!"
The Lisbon Royal Imperial Guard Infantry Regiment was leading this assault. They were Portugal's absolute elite. If they were all left here, he would have no way to answer to Rio de Janeiro.
"Commander," the staff officer chose his words carefully, "the Spanish artillery can cover the entire shallows. If the transports approach..." "Bring the warships in as well and suppress them with fire!" Colonel Beresford gritted out. "The enemy has only a few hundred men, and most of them still have to man the guns. The Marines have enough time to withdraw."
The Orderly Officer immediately turned and ran toward the signal Flag Bearer.
A few minutes later, the Admiral Frederis and two other Battleships desperately closed to within range of their guns and began pouring shells into the fortress.
At the