General Andrew Jackson called for his chief scout, Davey Crockett. Crockett was just a kid in those pre-Alamo days. Andrew Jackson was an old man even then. A mean-tempered old man.

“Report, Mr. Crockett!”, Jackson told him.

“Why, shucks, Andy, mos’ folks jus’ call me Davey”.

“You will address me as General, Crockett, or sir! I will address you as Mr. Crockett!”

“Why, ain’t ya the friendlah un. Well, sir, there be a passel of Brits out yonder”.

“A passel. What’s that mean. 2,000 or 20,000?”

“I didn’ count em. Only got two hans. But, they was a whole passel o’ them. Don’t matter none”.

“No? Why is that, Mr. Crockett. Enlighten me with the wisdom of your great military background.”

“Wha, general, iffen ah didn’ knows no better ah’d think you was a funnin me. Heck, general, theys walkin though the swamps. Ain’t never gonna get em all here. Reckon them alygaters is gonna have theyselves a feast on them Brits”.

“Yes, well, I think I’ll deploy my troops anyway”.

“Well, thas up to you. I’s jus a poh ole boy from Tennessee. I was born on a mountain top and killed me a bar when I was only three. I-”

“Yes, yes, I know. Dismissed, Mr. Crockett”.

After Crockett left Jackson cursed up a blue streak. How can this country get great with the likes of Crockett in it? The guy's a moron. Can’t read or write and barely speaks the language. Of course, he can shoot the crap out of that rifle, Old Betsy or something like that.

The British did finally arrive in front of Jackson’s army. They were a sorry looking lot. Filthy and all torn up by the briars; wet from the swamp; nervous from the alligators. Didn’t act like they really wanted to fight. Jackson wanted to fight. He needed to fight. He had a reputation to uphold.

Lefitte came up to the General. Now, this was a man. Sure, a pirate, a thief, a scoundrel. He could fight and outsmart the British. Probably steal half the supplies Jackson had but well worth it.

“Ah, le heneral. You go fight now, eh?”.

“You’re suposed to be on your ship!”

“Ah, mon heneral, eet, how you say, sunk”.

“What?! Well, shoot. Okay, get your men into the line and ready to fight”.

“Ah, my heneral, my men not fight as common soldiers. They fight as pirates. You go fight, we guard the camp, eh?”

“Yes, you do that. Won’t be a camp when I get back.”

You all know the rest of the story. The Americans had to use alligators as cannons. They won the battle and celebrated with fried gator steaks. The Brits ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles. They even ran where a rabbit couldn’t go. Then, they all found out the war had been over for two weeks so it didn’t count.

“Well, this is just like kissing your sister”, Jackson fumed, “ although I never did that. Wipe that smirk off your face, Crockett.”