Southeastern Colombia.
Julian Leal tightly gripped the strap of his flintlock gun, nervously surveying the dense rainforest as he briskly walked by the rushing river.
"God, why would the Portuguese come to this godforsaken place..." He turned his head to the lieutenant beside him, "We didn't take the wrong path, did we, sir?"
"Of course," the latter nodded, "Not only have they come, but there might be forty to fifty thousand of them."
Leal swallowed hard, "But how are we supposed to beat them?"
The attack squad he was part of consisted of 4 infantry companies and 1 skirmisher company, along with a small cavalry force, totaling just over 600 men.
They had only been recruited by the National Army Headquarters in New Granada recently, with training less than 20 days. Well, the headquarters was established just a month ago.
