This junk bore as much resemblance to the novel as a pickle slice does to a cucumber. The film makers took the Alamo section out of the book, made it into a movie, and said it was based on the book. Hah! Wonder what they did to induce Mr. Michener to endorse this piece of fluff? It was just another Davy Crockett, flintlock rifle, Santa Ana, 13 days of glory collection of poppycock. I almost started rooting for the mexicans, just to get the damn thing to end. And what was that scene where Stacey Keach was trying to get James Bowie to let him look at the knife? The sexual innuendos he used were juvenile and unnecessary. They could have used the film they wasted on that silliness to put in some real dialogue. This show was an embarrassment to Hollywood. Or can those clowns be embarrassed?