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Springfield in the Spanish American War

by Walter W. Ward · English · Gutenberg #46361 · 342,007 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Springfield in the Spanish American War

Author: Walter W. Ward


        
Release date: July 22, 2014 [eBook #46361]
                Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SPRINGFIELD IN THE SPANISH AMERICAN WAR ***

  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. Superscripts have been
  converted to normal text.

  Obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected
  after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and
  consultation of external sources.

  More detail can be found at the end of the book.




[Illustration: COLONEL EMBURY P. CLARK]




  SPRINGFIELD
  IN THE
  SPANISH-AMERICAN WAR

  BY
  WALTER W. WARD

  ILLUSTRATED

  PRESS OF
  ENTERPRISE PRINTING COMPANY
  EASTHAMPTON, MASS.
  1899.

  TO THE
  OFFICERS AND MEN
  OF G, B AND K COMPANIES
  SECOND REGIMENT MASSACHUSETTS
  INFANTRY, U. S. V., AND
  H COMPANY, NAVAL BRIGADE.




PREFACE.


In the Spanish-American war of 1898, Springfield rose to the occasion
as she did in 1776 and 1861 and sent her youngest and best and bravest
sons to the front. It was her sons who fought and fell at El Caney, the
one battle of modern times where infantry, practically unsupported by
artillery, captured a well fortified town and it was her sons who were
in the lead in drawing the attacking lines so tightly about the city of
Santiago that its surrender had to follow. It was her sons also who,
on the high seas, on a fast auxiliary cruiser, did faithful service as
a portion of the navy and had the satisfaction of doing their share in
remembering the Maine by sinking a Spanish transport and a gun boat.
Her sons fell on the battlefield and died in the camps and hospitals
after enduring as soldiers, the hardships and toils of one of the
shortest yet most important and bloodiest campaigns in history and of
the honors of that war, Springfield claims a goodly share for herself.

In the near future a monument, the funds for which have been
contributed from near and far, will be erected in Springfield to the
memory of the officers and men of the Second Regiment, Massachusetts
Infantry, U. S. Volunteers who fell or died in the Spanish war. On
that monument, whatever form it may take, will be inscribed the names
of Bowen, Harry and Paul Vesper, Bearse, Noone, Piper, Boone, Jones,
Richmond, Packard, Kelly, Moody, Burnham, Malone, Burke, Little,
Stetson, Creley, Lyons and Morehouse. But their names have long before
this been permanently inscribed on the hearts of their comrades and
in no place are they more secure. They died for the flag, the highest
honor possible to an American citizen. This volume is written in the
attempt to portray as clearly as memory serves what these men and their
comrades did in the war with Spain. While not actually a history,
the intention has been to show as clearly as possible the people of
Springfield what it was their sons and brothers and friends in her four
organizations at the front went through in their short campaign.

Springfield, Nov. 1899.

  W. W. W.




LIST OF CONTENTS.


  CHAPTER.                                    PAGE

  I. Which is preliminary to those which
  follow it,                                     9

  II. Which tells about the calling out of
  H company, Naval Brigade,                     14

  III. How G, B and K companies went to
  South Framingham,                             19

  IV. Wherein is told how we were transformed
  from "tin" soldiers into the
  real article,                                 25

  V. We get orders to leave for the sunny
  South and obey them,                          32

  VI. We go to the Southland and begin to
  find out where we are at,                     38

  VII. We stay in Ybor City and then
  enjoy (?) life on the transports in the
  harbor,                                       44

  VIII. We have a lovely sail on the palatial
  Knickerbocker and reach Cuba without
  mishap,                                       51

  IX. Wherein is related our landing at
  Daiquiri and some things which subsequently
  happened,                                     59

  X. In which is to be found the tale of
  Crab Hollow and some other things,            68

  XI. Which tells how we got ready to
  take the town of El Caney,                    76

  XII. Wherein is related some events which
  happened to us on July first,                 84

  XIII. We learn some more things about the
  art of war as conducted in these days,        94

  XIV. We continue our education in the art
  of war and learn a few things,               106

  XV. We have to face another enemy more
  deadly than the Spaniards,                   119

  XVI. Our voyage homeward on the death
  ship Mobile,                                 129

  XVII. We and our friends enjoy ourselves
  at Camp Wickoff, Montauk Point,              136

  XVIII. In which is told how we prepare to
  quit Uncle Sam's service,                    143

  XIX. We become plain citizens once more
  and square accounts with Uncle Sam,          151

  XX. Wherein is narrated the adventures
  on the high seas of Springfield's
  sailors,                                     161

  Roster,                                      172

  The Roll of Honor,                           178

  Springfield's Dead Heroes,                   180




THE CAMPAIGN IN CUBA.

Experiences of Co's G, B and K, M. V. M., and H Co., Naval Brigade in
the war of 1898 and record of its service in the operations against
Santiago.

BY WALTER W. WARD.




CHAPTER I.

WHICH IS PRELIMINARY TO THOSE WHICH FOLLOW IT.


Within the few years preceding the fateful one of 1898 a decided
impetus had been given the military spirit in Springfield by the
stationing of two additional companies of the state militia in this
city. To the already organized companies, G and B of the Massachusetts
Volunteer Militia, had been added K company, the company of that
name in Amherst having been disbanded and its letter transferred to
Springfield. The organization in this city of a company of the state
naval brigade and the building of a handsome and commodious state
armory helped to place the militia of Springfield on a higher level in
the public interest and regard than had previously been the case.

Springfield has always been rich in military tradition. Her earliest
sons helped fight the Indians who disputed the right of the first
settlers to the lands they roamed over in the fertile Connecticut
valley; they had served in the Colonial wars and Springfield blood was
shed in the Revolutionary war. Soon after this war Springfield was the
scene of one of the episodes of Shay's rebellion. In the Civil war she
sent her full quota and more of her young men to serve under the flag
and after the war the ranks of her militia companies were always kept
filled with her best young men. Undoubtedly the presence here of a
United States military post and the famous Springfield arsenal has done
much to aid in keeping up the military spirit.

For long years, reaching back to a time before the rebel guns opened
fire on Fort Sumter, Springfield's one military company was the City
guard, which after being attached to several of the state militia
organizations became under the final reorganization of the state troops
B company of the Second regiment of infantry, M. V. M. In 1868 a number
of the veterans of the Civil war organized the Peabody guard which was
attached to the Second regiment as G company. Both these companies
were always composed of good material and maintained a high place in
the state militia, not only for excellence in drill but in discipline
and marksmanship. The location of regimental headquarters here several
years ago aided in making military interest more rife than for some
years.

With four companies of militia instead of two, with headquarters and a
fine new armory in place of the more or less unsatisfactory quarters
previously occupied and with public feeling more united in their
support than it had been for years the militia of Springfield felt they
had entered upon a new period and it was one, which though they did not
then realize it, was to soon test the courage and soldierly qualities
of many of the officers and men of the Springfield militia. But with
this then unknown the spirit of soldierly pride and loyalty to their
organizations led officers and men to constant striving to be at the
top or as near the top as possible, of the militia of the state in
all things soldierly. In drill, in discipline, in knowledge of guard
duty, in marksmanship and in all the other details that go to make up
a good soldier there was assiduous practice and to the furtherance of
that end many of the ceremonial features of military life, to which
great importance had previously been attached, were discarded as far
as possible. This was thoroughly in line with the policy of the state
military authorities and its value was to be proven sooner than was
anticipated.

It did not take a very far seeing mind to realize in the fall of 1897
and the first two months of 1898 that matters with regard to the
policy of the United States in the affairs of Cuba might soon produce
a crisis so acute that the military power of the Republic would have
to be called upon. Certainly it was realized by the militiamen and
the progress of events from the beginning of 1898 to the night of the
destruction of the Maine was by none more closely watched than by the
men who gathered in the company rooms in the armory each night.

When it was known definitely that the long anticipated call to arms
could not be much longer delayed the local militia was never in finer
fettle. The ranks of every company were filled and soldierly enthusiasm
ran high. New arms, not comparable of course with those of the regular
army but better than any previous militia armament, had been issued and
the equipments and uniforms were in good and serviceable condition.
Applications for enlistment were so numerous that had there been eight
companies instead of four their ranks could have easily been filled up.

It was on the 29th of April, 1898, that the call for troops came
to Springfield. On the 23d President McKinley had issued the first
call for troops and six days later Gov. Wolcott designated Col.
E. P. Clark of the Second as one of the six commanding officers to
raise a regiment of volunteers for the United States service. It was
provided that members of the militia were to be given the preference
in enlistments to the volunteer regiments, the residue being made up
by enlistment of other citizens. The Second was ordered to report at
the state camp ground at South Framingham on May 3 for muster into the
United States service. April 29th fell on Friday and May 3 on Tuesday
of the following week so that there was not any too much time in
which to enlist men for the companies and get everything in readiness
for service. But what time there was on hand was so well utilized
that promptly at the hour ordered on the morning of May 3d the three
Springfield companies were at the armory with full ranks and fully
equipped, all the state property and equipage not needed packed up and
ready for shipment to the state arsenal.

Every officer of the three companies and fully 70 per cent. of the
men who had been in their ranks in the militia service was on hand.
Capt. John J. Leonard of G, a veteran in the militia, was at the head
of his company and with him his two lieutenants, T. A. Sweeney and E.
J. Leyden. Capt. Henry McDonald of B company, a veteran both of the
regular army and the militia, and his lieutenants, William L. Young and
Harry J. Vesper were on hand promptly and so was Capt. W. S. Warriner
and Lieutenants P. C. Powers and Harry H. Parkhurst of K company. All
three companies were proud of their officers and they had every reason
to be.

And here a little digression. No effort of any kind was made to
transfer as absolute unities the companies of militia into companies
of United States Volunteers. It can truthfully be said that no man was
asked to go to South Framingham by the officers. On the contrary Col.
Clark and the company officers were all careful to impress upon the
men of the militia that their volunteering into the service of the
United States was purely a voluntary and personal matter with them.
There were dozens of instances in which the officers realized that the
sacrifice was such as some of their men should not make. There were men
with families dependent upon them or so otherwise circumstanced that it
was best for them not to go and these men were talked to candidly and
kindly and dissuaded from putting their names on the enlistment rolls.
It was a volunteer movement purely and simply and the Second was in the
highest sense of the word a volunteer regiment.

Long before the orders for mobilization at South Framingham were issued
preparations had been made to the end that Massachusetts might be ready
to respond to the first call for troops from the national government.
Early in April Gov. Wolcott had constituted some of the officers of the
state militia as his advisory board in matters relating to the part
Massachusetts would take in the war. On April 20, Col. Clark of the
Second and some of his field and staff officers were called to Boston
in consultation with the governor and on the 24th Gov. Wolcott in his
capacity of commander-in-chief of the military and naval forces of the
state issued an order calling upon the militia to hold themselves in
readiness for duty within 24 hours.




CHAPTER II.

WHICH TELLS ABOUT THE CALLING OUT OF H COMPANY, NAVAL BRIGADE.


Meanwhile, and while the infantry were getting in readiness,
Springfield had already sent some of her sons on duty. The naval arm of
the service was in a far more advanced state of preparation than was
the army and it was the general opinion that of necessity the war would
be one in which the navy would take the most prominent part, leaving
but little for the land forces to do except garrison duty. Springfield
had taken great pride in her company of the Massachusetts naval brigade
since its organization and expected great things of it in the event of
its being called upon for duty.

On April 2 came the first intimation that Springfield was to be called
upon for men. Although war had not been declared and strenuous efforts
were being made to head it off by the peace-at-any-price men, the navy
department had set about getting into commission all the vessels that
it could. At the League Island navy yard, Philadelphia, there lay a
number of the old time monitors, some of them having been moored there
since shortly after the close of the civil war, and it was decided
to put them into condition for harbor defense purposes. Two were to
be assigned to Boston harbor and on April 2 came orders to Lieut. J.
K. Dexter, the commander of H company naval brigade, to proceed to
the League Island yard as an officer of one of the monitors. Lieut.
Dexter left that night and remained on duty at the yard until April
16, when he returned to bring down the detail of his company which was
to form part of the crew of the single turreted monitor Lehigh. It was
not until April 17th that the Lehigh detail left for the Philadelphia
navy yard although there had been many rumors as to when the men would
go and the quarters of the company at the state armory were filled
every night with the men and their friends. On the 16th Lieut. Dexter
returned unexpectedly from Philadelphia and at once set about getting
his detail together. It was on Sunday, but with the aid of the alarm
list system, the telephone and special messengers the men were soon
notified and assembled at the armory. The detail as finally made up
was: Lieut. Jenness K. Dexter; Chief Boatswain's Mate, Frank H. Bowen;
Boatswain's Mates, Robert T. Whitehouse, A. T. Wright; Gunner's Mate,
F. W. Baum; Coxswain, W. S. Johnson; Acting Coxswain, S. L. Ruden;
Quartermaster, W. A. Sabin; and Seamen Paul H. Lathrop, R. H. B.
Warburton, W. F. Bright, R. P. King, A. Mellor, A. N. Luce, and L. E.
Ladd. The detail marched to the union station at about 8.30 and took
the 9 o'clock train for New York, receiving an ovation as it passed
through Main street and again at the station as the train pulled out.

On the same day Lieut. (junior grade) Henry S. Crossman, who was in
command of the company during the absence of Lieut. Dexter, received
orders from Capt. Weeks of the naval brigade to hold himself in
readiness to proceed to the Brooklyn navy yard and there report to
Admiral Bunce, commanding the yard, as watch officer of the auxiliary
cruiser Prairie to which the Massachusetts naval brigade was to be
assigned. Lieut. (junior grade) W. O. Cohn was ordered to be in
readiness to proceed to Boston and report for duty on the U. S. S.
Minnesota, Ensign W. S. Barr was ordered to be in readiness to go to
the Brooklyn navy yard as one of the watch officers of the Prairie and
Ensign Fred T. Ley was ordered to the same ship as watch officer and
Captain's clerk.

On April 22d these orders were changed, Lieut. Cohn and Ensign Barr
being ordered to report for duty on board the monitor Lehigh on her
arrival in Boston harbor.

On April 23d, Lieut. Crossman received orders to proceed with the
remaining men of H company to the Brooklyn navy yard there to go on
board the Prairie as part of her crew during the war. These orders were
received on the morning of the 23d and as soon as it became known about
the city that the men were to go, the war time scenes of 1861 were
re-enacted. It was at first planned to have the company take an early
evening train but as Lieut. Crossman found they could go just as well
on the early morning train from Boston he decided to take that, thus
giving the men more time in which to settle up their affairs and get
everything in readiness for leaving.

Information about the Prairie had already been pretty well disseminated
about the city. It was known that she was formerly the fast steamer,
El Sud, of the Morgan line and was capable of doing excellent duty
as one of Uncle Sam's auxiliary cruisers. At the time she was in the
Brooklyn navy yard being changed over from a passenger and freight
vessel to a war ship and the job was requiring longer time than had
been anticipated.

[Illustration:

  Lieut. Paul R. Hawkins.
  Adjutant.

  Major F. G. Southmayd.

  Lieut. E. E. Sawtell.
  Quartermaster.
]

The quarters of H company and the state armory were the busiest places
in Springfield that afternoon and evening. The "jackies" were getting
their dunnage rolls and equipment together and relatives and friends
were on hand to say farewell and see their "boys" off. Owing to the
time at which the company had orders to leave the armory, 1.30 A. M.,
it was hardly expected there would be much of a crowd on hand to give
the command a suitable farewell but this was a mistake. Long before
the hour at which the company was to leave the streets leading to
the union station were crowded and more enthusiasm was shown than had
been the case in Springfield for many a day. It was at 1.30 o'clock in
the morning of the 24th that the company, fully armed, equipped, in
the regulation uniform of the jackies of the navy left the armory and
marched through Main street to the union station to take the 2.20 train
for New York, special cars for the company having been attached to the
train. In spite of the lateness of the hour Springfield's citizens and
the relatives, friends of the company were determined not to let the
command leave the city without some demonstration. All night long up
to the time for leaving the armory the building was filled with the
relatives, friends of the members as well as those who while not bound
to them by any intimate ties yet wished by their presence to show
appreciation of the spirit which had prompted the young men to answer
their country's call, even though it involved sacrifices hard indeed to
make.

From midnight until the hour for departure Main street was well filled
with a waiting crowd and when the company marched from its armory,
swinging into Main street, a cheer went up which was continuous
until the train had borne the company out of sight of the assembled
thousands. Rockets and colored fire lent brilliancy to the march and
as the station was neared the denser grew the crowd until it was with
difficulty a way was cleared for the company. Thousands, men and women,
had gathered at the station and it was a scene worthy the pencil of a
great artist, that farewell as the men marched up and boarded the cars
with military precision. There were cheers and good wishes, personal
farewells and tears, all commingling in one mass of sound that the
station space had never heard before. But as the engine bell rang and
the train began to move with slowly increasing swiftness out of the
station all sounds merged into mighty cheers, which rose thunderously
from the thousands of people. In that uproar of cheers were submerged
for the time the sobs of a few whose near and dear ones were on the
train.

So Springfield sent her first contingent to serve under the old flag in
the war against Spain.




CHAPTER III.

HOW G, B AND K COMPANIES WENT TO SOUTH FRAMINGHAM.


While the naval militiamen of Springfield were being sent off to their
places of duty amid the cheers of the people plans for the mobilization
of the land forces of the state were going on apace. The call of
President McKinley for troops was issued on April 23 and six days later
on April 29, Col. Embury P. Clark of the Second Regiment of Infantry,
M. V. M., was designated by Gov. Wolcott to raise a regiment of
volunteers to answer the President's call as one of the four volunteer
infantry regiments assigned to Massachusetts. On the same day Col.
Clark was ordered to have his regiment report for duty at the state
camp ground, South Framingham, at noon of May 3d, he being also ordered
to assume command of the camp formed there by the four volunteer
regiments.

On receipt of these orders Col. Clark immediately notified his field
and staff and company officers and from that time on everything at
the state armory was done with a snap and a jump. Only a few days
remained before May 3d, for that day fell on Tuesday, and it was Friday
afternoon when the orders were received. Under the call the company
strength for infantry was fixed at three officers and 74 enlisted men,
but had it been 174 instead of 74 there would have been but little
trouble in filling up the ranks. More men were anxious to enlist than
there were places for and a hard problem for the company officers to
face was that of discouraging and rejecting applicants for enlistment
most of whom pleaded for the privilege as strongly as a ward politician
does for a paying office. On an average about 75 per cent. of the men
in the militia companies enlisted in the volunteers and it is only
just to state that a good number of those who did not were "talked"
out of it by their officers who realized, perhaps better than the men
themselves, that going to the front meant more sacrifices than men with
dependent families or relatives should be called upon to make.

Meantime all was hurry and bustle at the state armory but order soon
came out of all the apparent chaos and early on the morning of Tuesday,
May 3d the local field and staff officers of the regiment and G, B and
K companies, thus formed in the order of seniority of their captains,
stood in the big drill shed, in full marching uniform with knapsacks
packed and overcoats rolled up on them looking soldierly, and ready for
whatever duty might call them to do.

It was a dismal morning in more than one way. A drizzling rain fell at
intervals and there was gloom in many hearts among the crowds of people
lining Main street and the union station and its approaches. Though
not a shot had yet been fired in actual conflict between the United
States and Spain on land and Dewey's great victory at Manila had been
won without the loss of a single American life, yet the people were
beginning to understand that the grim realities of war might be brought
home to them and this thought had its influence in repressing any too
enthusiastic demonstration.

But there was a demonstration, nevertheless. Outside the armory were
hundreds of spectators, including relatives and friends of the boys
and awaiting them were the members of E. K. Wilcox post, G. A. R., the
veteran corps of G company and some veterans of B company, all headed
by the Second Regiment band to act as escort for the companies as far
as the union station.

Shortly after 8 o'clock the troops left the armory and headed by the
escort marched through Main street and around Court square to city
hall, where the column was reviewed by Mayor H. S. Dickinson and the
city government. Thousands of people were massed here and there was
some cheering. The fire department boys at headquarters on Pynchon
street saluted the troops with a small cannon and on the rest of the
way up Main street to the station there was some cheering but not any
too much.

At the corner of Main and Lyman streets the escort halted and formed
in line. As the companies marched by the old soldiers of the civil
war gave us three cheers, in which the militia veterans joined. The
remainder of the march to the station was through a close packed crowd
of men, women and children. There was some cheering, but as the soldier
boys began to file into the waiting cars of the special train sobs and
tears broke out from many of the women and as the train pulled out a
few moments after 9 o'clock tears were more in evidence than cheers. As
one of the boys put it, "They sent the naval boys off with cheers and
kept the tears for us."

This feeling was augmented by the enthusiasm with which the people of
Worcester sent their three companies off. When our train pulled into
the Worcester depot we found the building jammed with people, some
perched upon the tops of standing engines and cars and the Worcester
companies were so surrounded with people it was at first hard to tell
where they were. When our special stopped and the Worcester men began
to board it a volume of cheers went up that was almost enough to
take the roof off the building. Everyone was cheering apparently and
those who were not were so few in number that it was impossible to
distinguish them.

After leaving Springfield there were small crowds at every station
between there and Worcester and though the train did not stop there
was much cheering and waving of hats. This was repeated during the run
from Worcester to South Framingham.

It was shortly before noon when we reached South Framingham and marched
to the camp ground amid the cheers of the townspeople. Reaching there
the companies were dismissed to quarters and dinner, which the company
caterers had ready for us, we not going on government rations until
some days later. A majority of the boys had been in camp at South
Framingham before but this was different. A state militia encampment
is one thing and a camp of United States volunteers is another. The
old familiar wall tents were there but without the customary big blue
chests in which were always stored much that was good in the way of
refreshment for tired and thirsty militiamen. There was a trifle of
added sharpness to the commands of officers and non-commissioned
officers and there were various other little things which combined to
show us that we were on the way to be the "real things" instead of "tin
soldiers" as we had been dubbed in our militia days.

"Physical examination of recruits" was the rock on which the desires
of many of us to get at the hated Spaniards were to split and the
rock began to show itself that very afternoon when A of Worcester was
ordered over to brigade headquarters for examination. Before the shades
of evening fell thirteen of its men had been rejected by the examining
surgeons and as bad news always spreads through a camp with greater
rapidity than good, many of us were wondering whether we would meet the
same fate or not within the next few days.

All the line officers and 75 per cent. of our men in the militia had
come with us while there were more than enough "rookies" to fill out
the quota. The recruits were, some of them, in uniform and a number
had formerly been in the militia service, so that they took kindly
enough to the opening of camp life. But as the militia companies had
only been composed of 58 enlisted men there were not uniforms enough
at the time to equip the extra men and some of the "rookies" looked
odd and felt it in their civilian attire. More than one practical joke
was played upon them before "taps" sounded, but the great majority of
the men were tired enough to get to quarters and hug their luxurious
mattresses before the bugles sounded the last call of the day.

Of the field and staff and non-commissioned staff resident in
Springfield and vicinity not all came to camp. Col. Clark and Major
Southmayd were on hand as was Lt. Paul R. Hawkins, the regimental
adjutant. Quartermaster Colson of Holyoke did not come and to his place
was appointed Corporal E. E. Sawtell of K company. Major Brown of
Adams, the regimental surgeon and Lt. J. T. Hendrick of Springfield,
assistant surgeon did not volunteer and a new surgical staff was
appointed, consisting of Dr. Henry T. Bowen of Springfield as major and
surgeon, Dr. Ernest A. Gates of Springfield and Dr. John S. Hitchcock
of Amherst as assistant surgeons with the rank of first lieutenants.
Dr. Hitchcock was a member of I company when appointed.

There were several changes in the non-commissioned staff. Corporal
Robert N. Ingersoll was made sergeant-major vice Paul Norton and Ross
L. Lusk quartermaster-sergeant vice Melville Snow of Holyoke. Three
hospital stewards instead of one were assigned to the regiment, and
the appointees were Ulysses G. Fortier of Holyoke, S. H. Greenberg
of Boston and Edson P. Howes of Springfield. No color sergeants were
provided for in the volunteer regiments and these positions were filled
by detail.

It was a matter of much regret that no place was provided for the
paymaster and inspector of rifle practice. In the Second as a militia
regiment these positions had been filled respectively by Lieut. A.
C. Edson of Holyoke and A. E. Taylor of Chicopee Falls but no such
positions were provided for in the volunteer service and these
officers were forced to remain behind.

The first guard mount of the camp was held in the afternoon with First
Lieut. P. C. Powers of K company as officer of the guard. So closed our
first day at South Framingham.

[Illustration: Surgeon Henry C. Bowen

Surgeon Ernest A. Gates.]




CHAPTER IV.

WHEREIN IS TOLD HOW WE WERE TRANSFORMED FROM "TIN" SOLDIERS INTO THE
REAL ARTICLE.


It did not require many day's of camp life at South Framingham to
convince about all of us that we were there strictly for business. The
weather was rather cold and there were a few flurries of snow although
it was in May. The nights were so cool that huge fires of wood were
built on the color line each night and around these the men gathered
spending the time in singing, story telling and in wondering how soon
we would start for the front and just what part we of the Second would
take in subduing the pride of the haughty Spaniard.

But little in the way of drilling was done at first, but after a day
or two the work of whipping the "rookies" into shape was begun, the
process being the simple one of having them fall in with the company
and learning the drill as best they could. Squad drills were also
carried on and it was during these that the raw material was best
worked up.

Hardly had the regiment arrived in camp before regulation United States
army blankets were issued to the men and issues of rubber blankets,
"working suits" of brown canvas followed.

Private Pomeroy of K company was the first of the Springfield men to
be taken ill. He had not been feeling well before leaving home but
pluckily made up his mind to go with his company just the same, and
would not admit his illness. Soon after arriving in camp his condition
became so serious that the surgeon was called to him and Pomeroy was
found to be suffering with tonsilitis. He was removed from the camp to
a hospital in South Framingham, but while there scarlet fever developed
and he was sent home as soon as he had recovered sufficiently to be
able to travel. Pomeroy felt much worse over his inability to go with
his regiment than he did over his illness, serious as it was.

The physical examinations soon made many sore hearts among the boys in
camp, although the results of some of them were extremely satisfactory
to the parents, relatives or friends of some of the would be soldiers.
They were in charge of Capt. Bushnell U. S. A., who was assisted by the
surgeons of the volunteer regiments in camp. B company was examined on
Wednesday, the day after our arrival in camp and before sundown fully
twenty men, including some of the oldest and best men of the company
had been rejected for one cause or another. The commissioned officers
of the regiment were also up for examination the same day, and among
those rejected was First Lieut. Thomas A. Sweeney of G company and
one of the most efficient and popular officers of the regiment. His
rejection was a hard blow to him for he had set his heart on going
with his men and to be rejected for what he considered to be a trivial
cause was worse to him than being hit by a Spanish bullet. His grief
was shared by his fellow officers and men, by whom he was exceedingly
well liked. His place was filled by William C. Hayes, a former first
lieutenant of the company.

Lieut. W. L. Young of B company was officer of the guard on Wednesday,
and among the incidents of his tour of duty that night was the rather
unusual but efficient method by which a private of G company who had
been placed on a somewhat remote post relieved himself from further
duty after walking his post only a short time. The aforesaid private
concluded that he would be much more comfortable in his tent with his
"bunkies" than walking his post for the remainder of his two hours,
and so proceeded to the guard house, placed his rifle in a corner and
announced to the officer of the guard "I'm relieved." Before Lieutenant
Young could recover from his astonishment at the new method of getting
out of guard duty, the private had gone to his own quarters where he
slept peacefully for the remainder of the night.

The results of the physical examinations were to "throw out" many of
the best men in the three Springfield companies, and as this was not at
all satisfactory to their captains, some vigorous "kicking" resulted.
In many cases men were rejected for trivial causes, but as the result
of vigorous objections to the policy, made by Captains Leonard,
McDonald and Warriner, a number of the rejected men were re-examined
and the majority of them accepted. In some instances more than two
examinations were given the same man, and an instance where grit and
a determination to go with his company got the best of the examining
surgeons was the case of Sergeant Richard H. Bearse, better known as
"Dickie." He was twice examined and rejected but through his efforts,
aided by those of Capt. McDonald, he was given a third trial and passed.

Could those people who had been for some years in the habit of sneering
at the militiamen as "tin soldiers" have seen the way in which the
rejected ones took their fate they would have changed their minds as
to the soldierly calibre of the men of the Second. It was easy to
tell the rejected ones as they came across the parade ground from the
surgeon's quarters, many of them with tears in their eyes, all with
downcast faces, because their bodies had not been strong enough to
let them go with the regiment. Their hearts were strong enough to go
to the front and fight for the flag but the government demanded stout
bodies as well as stout hearts, and so, many were refused. It was not
always in tears and "blue" looks that the rejected appeared from the
examining rooms. Often a rejected one would emerge, uttering sarcastic
and profane remarks as to the amount of surgical knowledge possessed by
the examiners, and their qualifications generally, and some of the men
exhibited a versatility of language in discussing their rejection and
the surgeon who was responsible for it only possessed by men of genius.

The rejections left the ranks of the Springfield companies much
depleted and it was necessary to send officers to that city for
recruits to fill the vacancies before the companies could be mustered
in. Capt. Leonard of G, Lieut. Young of B and Lieut. Powers of K were
sent on this duty and with them went about all of the men who had
been rejected. As soon as the purpose of their visit was known in
Springfield they were besieged by applicants for enlistment but having
learned wisdom from what had happened in camp they took the precaution
to have all the applicants pass a medical examination before bringing
them to South Framingham and as a result few of the new men they
brought down failed to pass the examining surgeons at the camp.

On May 6, another member of K company, Private Cook, was taken ill with
tonsilitis and was sent home, much to his disgust.

On the same day the field and staff officers of the Second were
mustered into the United States service by Lieut. E. M. Weaver,
2d artillery, who had been detailed as mustering officer for the
Massachusetts volunteers. Adjutant Paul R. Hawkins was the first one to
be mustered and he was followed by Quartermaster E. E. Sawtell. Surgeon
Bowen and Assistant Surgeons Gates and Hitchcock had been mustered in
on the day after our arrival in camp and had been assigned to duty in
assisting in the examinations of recruits.

First Lieut. W. C. Hayes of G joined his company on the afternoon of
the 6th and after being examined and accepted was assigned to duty.

On Saturday and Sunday, the 7th and 8th, three batches of additional
recruits arrived in camp and were at once handed over to the examining
surgeons. By Sunday K company had filled its ranks to the required
number of 74 enlisted men and on that day was duly mustered into the
military service of the United States for a period of two years "unless
sooner discharged." The ceremony was a simple one. The company was
marched over to brigade headquarters and formed in column of twos
facing the mustering officer, Lieut. Weaver. The latter called out
each man's name, beginning with the first sergeant and as each man
answered he stepped to the front and facing about took position in
front of the company in the same formation. The roll call over, the
company was faced to the front, Lieut. Weaver removed his cap and the
men uncovered. Then Lieut. Weaver read in impressive tones the oath of
allegiance to the United States and administered it to the company,
thus completing the ceremony which marked the transition of militiamen
and raw recruits into soldiers of the United States. K company was the
first company in Massachusetts to be mustered into the United States
service and so far as known the first company in the country to be
mustered in. That afternoon "government rations" were issued to K and
the next day the men began eating them instead of the meals which had
up to then been supplied by a caterer. Some of the men who failed to
understand the difference between Uncle Sam's diet and that furnished
at militia encampments found fault of course with the rations. Butter
and milk are unknown in the regular soldiers' menu unless the company
fund is drawn upon for them, and some of the men couldn't understand
why they were not supplied and found fault accordingly. Later when we
were all living luxuriously(?) in Cuba on "sowbelly" bacon, hardtack
and coffee, sometimes without sugar, these men remembered with fond
but unavailing regret the once despised government rations at South
Framingham. The fond parents and relatives who were told in letters
from camp of how meager and unsatisfactory the first food furnished
by Uncle Sam was may correct their idea by glancing over the rations
issued for the first five days to K company while at South Framingham:

  300 lbs. potatoes; 422 lbs. flour; 27-3/4 lbs. bacon; 7 lbs. rice;
  43-3/4 lbs. beans; 30 lbs. coffee; 56-1/2 lbs. sugar; 15 lbs. salt;
  3/4 lb. pepper; 15 lbs. soap; 75 lbs. onions; 5-5/8 lbs. candles;
  3-3/4 gallons vinegar and 422 lbs. fresh beef.

It is understood of course that the soap and candles were not issued as
edibles but for cleansing and illuminating purposes. And it can also
be seen that in the above rations there are possibilities for good
eating and plenty of it. As a matter of fact milk and butter were soon
supplied from the company funds.

G and B companies were mustered in on the 10th with full ranks. G was
to have been mustered in the day previous but when the time arrived
one private, a raw recruit, was missing and as the entire company was
obliged to be on hand for muster the ceremony was dispensed with for
that day and the men were marched back vowing vengeance upon the man
who had kept them for 24 hours from getting into the service. Before
very long another recruit was found and when the missing private turned
up full of penitence and other things his uniform was taken off and
after receiving a talking to from Capt. Leonard that made his cheeks
burn with shame he was shipped out of camp.

The boys found plenty of amusement during their camp life and with
nearly 1000 young fellows in one regiment time did not hang very
heavily on their hands during the times between drills and other
duties. Base ball and other sports were indulged in and letter writing
and visits to the other regiments or an occasional pass to town
prevented anything like ennui. In the Springfield companies there were
few tent crews that did not have some distinctive appellation for
their habitation. Private J. C. Ryan of B made his tent famous as a
"steam laundry" and in G street there was the "Hotel Dingbat," so named
because the men who occupied it could not think of anything else to
call it. In K there was quickly organized an outfit later to be known
as the "Wee Haws" and which made itself somewhat famous by the gift of
song possessed by its members.

The "board of license commissioners" so famous during the encampment of
1897 was on hand but its members had but little of an official nature
to do as the camp of '98 was officially a "dry camp." A good share
of the dryness was, however, confined to the weather and a careful
search of the records fails to show that any inmate of the camp died of
thirst, although there were some serious cases.




CHAPTER V.

WE GET ORDERS TO LEAVE FOR THE SUNNY SOUTH AND OBEY THEM.


All of the time during our stay in camp speculation was rife as to when
we were going to the front and how; also under what designation were
we going. It had been circulated that we were to be known as the 63d
United States Volunteers, and other rumors, all of which turned out to
be just as near the truth as that one were put into commission. These
marked the origin of the "Jo Jo" bureau of misinformation which later
became an important feature of the campaign.

[Illustration: COMMISSIONED AND NON-COMMISSIONED OFFICERS OF G
COMPANY]

On the night of Wednesday, May 11th at 9.30, orders were flashed over
the wires from Washington to Lieut. Weaver to send the Second at once
to Tampa, Fla., where the army of invasion of Cuba was gathering.
Almost everyone except the guard and a few officers and attaches at
regimental headquarters, was asleep when the orders came but within a
very few moments after their purport had been announced, there was the
wildest scene of excitement in the camp that had ever been witnessed
in South Framingham. From Lieut. Weaver the orders were quickly
transmitted to regimental headquarters and from there to the officers
of the regiment. Inside of ten minutes from their receipt by Lieut.
Weaver, every man of the Second was awake and in his company street
and exultant shouts that went up, quickly aroused the other regiments.
The Second was to be the first command from the old Bay State to be
ordered outside her boundaries for active service and the men were so
proud of it that they could not refrain from reminding the men of the
other three regiments of the fact. To the credit of the latter it must
be said that although at first they were a bit inclined to sulk because
their regiment was not the first to be called upon, yet they soon
realized that the honor was in a sense as much Massachusetts' as it was
the Second's, and their cheers joined in with ours.

Meanwhile, the regimental and company officers were doing some lively
work. Col. Clark had gone to Springfield that morning, and a number
of officers and men were away on leave, no one expecting that the
orders would come for a day or two. The regiment was ordered to move
the next day and before the orders had been known of but a very few
minutes, telegraph and telephone messages were sent to the absent ones
informing them of what had happened. This done, the work of completing
the equipment of the regiment was taken up and pushed in lively
fashion. There were many little details to be attended to and there
was little sleep for headquarters that night. How well the work was
done is attested by the fact that at an early hour the next morning the
regiment had its tents struck and packed, and long before the hour at
which many of the folks at home were eating their breakfasts, was in
readiness to move. Reveille was sounded at 4 o'clock that morning and
by 6 there was but little remaining to be done.

Although anxious for active service there was one thing about the
orders which was not at all relished by the regiment and that was the
route to be followed. It had been expected and understood that when
the Second would go south its route would be through Worcester and
Springfield, thus giving us a chance for a genuine _au revoir_ to home
and friends. We all of us knew that the "farewell" accorded us on
leaving Springfield for the camp at South Framingham would be tame
indeed to the reception we might expect when we passed through there as
United States Volunteers, with a large V, and bound for the front. Some
of the boys, to be sure, dreaded the thought of having to say "good
bye" to the accompaniment of tears and sobs again but the majority were
anxious for one more look at what part of Springfield to be seen from
the union station and were consequently much disappointed when it was
announced that instead of going via Springfield, the route was to be by
way of Newport, R. I.

There was much disappointment, too, in Springfield when the route was
announced. But not to be beaten, a party of citizens headed by Major H.
S. Dickinson, arranged for a special train to South Framingham, the day
we were to leave and so we were not allowed to go without some sort of
a farewell demonstration from the people of our own city.

On the day previous to our receiving the "rush" orders to the south,
a number of visitors including ex-Lieut. Gov. W. H. Haile, Col. A. H.
Goetting and James D. Gill of Springfield were in camp, and it came to
their attention that the Second was not provided with a band or even
field music. No regimental bands were included in the organization of
the volunteer regiments nor even field music, the sole musical property
being the bugles of which there were two to each company. It was looked
upon as a proper and desirable thing that the Second should at least
have field music, or in civilian parlance, a drum corps, and these
three gentlemen constituted themselves a committee on ways and means to
that end. It was known that there were enough musicians in the regiment
to form a drum corps if there were instruments provided for them and
before the next day through the generosity of the three gentlemen
named, the Second was provided with fifes, drums, etc., and the members
of the corps selected.

Thursday, May 12th, we bade good-bye to South Framingham. There was
difficulty in getting transportation for our baggage and it was not
until a late hour in the afternoon that everybody was in readiness.
Meanwhile we hung around our former quarters and killed time as best
we could. A short time after dinner, our last meal on the "old camp
ground," the "assembly" and "adjutant's call" were sounded and the
regiment was formed to pass in review before Gov. Wolcott. The march
past over, hollow square was formed and the governor presented the
officers their commissions and made a brief speech telling us to uphold
the honor of the old commonwealth.

While this was going on we heard the strains of a band and soon in
marched a delegation from Springfield, headed by the Second regiment
band and led by Mayor Dickinson, members of Wilcox post of the Grand
Army and Peabody Guard Veterans, while relatives and friends of the
boys made up the rest of the 500 in the party. Soon after their arrival
we were dismissed and then followed one of the interesting scenes
of our war experience. Hardly had we broken ranks before we were
surrounded by the visitors and there was falling upon each other's
necks, handshaking, good wishes, smiles and tears all commingled in one
scene of such excitement as we had never been through before. Every
male visitor brought cigars or refreshments for the boys and for an
hour or so nothing was too good for us.

But all things have an end and finally the bugles blew and after a
last hurried kiss or handshake we fell in again and marched out to the
parade ground for the last time. The colors dipped once more to the
governor and then through a double line of cheering soldiers from the
other regiments and our own friends we marched out of the camp and
down the dusty road to the railroad station, escorted by two troops
of cavalry and amid the cheers and good wishes of the thousands who
thronged the walks. We passed under the handsome arch erected by the
people of South Framingham in honor of the soldiers and after one last
opportunity to say farewell went on board the special trains waiting
for us. So we left good old Massachusetts.

On our way to Newport we were shown how the people of other places
regarded us. At every station our train passed through there were
cheering crowds and enthusiasm seemed to be in evidence everywhere. We
reached Newport about 9.30 and were transferred to the palatial steamer
"Pilgrim" of the Fall River line.

"This isn't so bad for army travelling," was the common remark as soon
as the boys found what accommodations had been made for them. There
were nearly enough staterooms to provide every man with a bunk and
those who failed to get a room found nice, thick mattresses spread
for them on the saloon floors. It brought the "Trip to New York" and
Valiquet back to the memories of many of us because the accommodations
were so different.

But it was a tired lot of boys that boarded the Pilgrim that night and
it was not long before all of them were testing the mattresses and
bunks, after indulging by the way for the first time in the "travel
ration." This was our first encounter with the canned beef department
but somehow it tasted better then than it ever did afterwards. Also
we allowed our teeth to play with the ligneous hardtack and finally
fatigued with our exertions we slept soundly.

The next morning when we woke up we were in the East river and at the
sight of her blue coated cargo every steam craft that met the Pilgrim
saluted with steam whistles while their crews or passengers as well as
those of the sailing craft cheered and waved handkerchiefs or anything
else waveable. From every factory along the shore came the shrieks of
the steam whistles and the shouts of their occupants and our progress
down the river to the Fall River line pier was a triumphal progress.

When we reached the pier it was not long before we were transferred to
the transports Saratoga and Vigilancia, the Springfield companies being
on board the latter. Then it was that we began to realize what war was.
Down in the dirty, dark and ill smelling hold we could see men at work
building rough wooden bunks for us and the language used concerning
these bunks and their location was copious and picturesque to a high
degree. No "Pilgrim" accommodations were these. No mattresses 12
inches thick to rest our weary bones upon but the soft and splintered
pine boards were to form our couch. Also the travel ration with its
components of canned roast beef(?), canned corn beef, canned beans and
hardtack was beginning to pall upon our palates. We were not used to
such Epicurean fare and began to fear gout and other incidentals of too
luxurious living. So we gathered together and said things but all the
time the carpenters went on constructing the bunks and no dinners were
brought on for us from the Waldorf-Astoria.

Our first cruise on the Vigilancia was further up the North river where
we waited until late in the afternoon and while waiting many of the
boys managed to get ashore. Some of them were nearly left behind as
we pulled out of the dock and a few did get left on shore, but they
chartered a tug and soon caught us. That night our transports sailed
down the harbor as far as Bedloe's Island where we anchored opposite
the Bartholdi statue and where we stayed anchored until the next
afternoon. That night the much discussed wooden troughs officially
named bunks were used and were the cause of much profane language
for which the recording angel ought to be able to find a good excuse
if he has any love for volunteer soldiers in his composition. Late
that afternoon we were taken over to Jersey City and transferred to a
special train of three sections of 14 cars each on which we were to
make the trip to Tampa. And thus ended our first sea voyage.




CHAPTER VI.

WE GO TO THE SOUTHLAND AND BEGIN TO FIND OUT WHERE WE ARE AT.


On Saturday evening, May 14, we started once more for the South, this
time by train and had the distinguished honor of beating out the
much-advertised 71st New York, which had been ordered to start at the
same time, but forgot its tentage on board the steamers and was obliged
to wait for several hours in consequence. Our train accommodations
could have been much worse, the train being run in three sections of
14 cars each and as four companies travelled on each section this
arrangement gave each company three cars, while a sleeping car was
reserved for the officers and with a baggage car made up the section.
With three cars to a company there was plenty of room for the men and
we managed to sleep quite comfortably. At every station along the route
we received plenty of greetings and this happened so frequently after
we got below Mason & Dixon's line that the boys wondered a little,
inasmuch as we were from "Black Massachusetts." But it was evident that
all but a very few of the people of the South realized that the civil
war was over and we got no heartier reception anywhere along the route
than in Virginia and North and South Carolina.

We reached Washington early Sunday morning and made a brief stop just
long enough to allow some of the boys to make a raid on a couple of
milk wagons. To our disappointment the train did not run through the
city but skirted it and we failed to get a glimpse of any of the show
places. We kept on going and late Monday evening, the 16th, landed at
Lakeland, Fla., where we went into camp, our destination having been
changed by telegraphic orders received soon after crossing the Florida
line.

Life on the train was not very exciting. We made but few stops and
those mainly to change engines. In South Carolina we made our first
acquaintance with wood burning engines. After these were hitched on it
was a case of stopping every few miles to "wood up." When the train did
not stop for wood it did for water and between them both progress was
slow to us but we found that according to southern ideas we were going
at express speed.

Our troop train was a great attraction for the children at the stations
where we stopped and it was a common thing for the boys and girls of
these places to hand us bunches of jessamine and magnolia flowers while
the older folk looked on approvingly. The colored people were somewhat
demonstrative but both they and the white folks never neglected an
opportunity to sell us cakes and pies at every stop. The pies reminded
us of those we had been getting at home, they were so different, but
as a relief from canned meat and beans they were welcome. Occasionally
when we stopped we found it possible to purchase bottled beer of an
inferior grade, but better than most of the water we had to drink.

On the trip south Lieuts. Young and Vesper of B company established
records as sleepers that put them far ahead in their class. Captains
Leonard and McDonald had the same section in the sleeping car and about
every night there could be heard a more or less vigorous protest from
the former against Capt. McDonald's use of a 700 horse power pipe.
Lieut. Harry Parkhurst of K was the victim of much "jollying" over
a story printed in a New York newspaper to the effect that he was
a nephew of the Rev. Dr. Parkhurst of New York, but he took it good
naturedly.

At Dupont, Ga., Private William Ferrier of G foraged a little during a
brief stop and captured a diminutive specimen of the "razor back" hog
prevalent in that locality and bore him in triumph to the train. Any
visions of pork chops which might have been indulged in were dispelled
by a look at the pig's anatomy which was plainly visible through his
skin but he was taken along just the same and met his fate at Lakeland
when he was killed and roasted by Private "Dido" Hunt of G and served
up to a small but select circle.

At one of the many stops in Florida a portly colored lady hung about
the train and made violent love to the good looking officers, her
comments on the personal appearance of some of them being rather more
pungent than flattering. So far as known she did not steal any of them.

During the stay at South Framingham Privates E. N. Aiken and B. R.
Madison of K company had blossomed out as composers and one of their
effusions which was sung by the more or less able musicians of the
company in camp and on the train to the tune of: "There'll be a Hot
Time in the Old Town To-night" was as follows:

    "When you hear those guns go bang, bang, bang,
    We'll all join in and lick that Dago gang,
    For we want war or we'll have no name at all,
    There'll be a hot time when the bugle shall call."

The above was Private Aiken's. Here is Private Madison's:

    "In the battle front we stand with our rifles in our hand
    And for Cuba's freedom we will ever fight;
      And with showers of shot and shell,
      We'll send the Spaniards straight to h----l,
    When we march into Havana bye and bye.

    CHORUS.

      Tramp, tramp, tramp the boys are marching,
      Cheer up, Cuba, we will come,
        And beneath the starry flag
        We'll tear down the Spanish rag
      And float the Cuban flag forevermore."

Our arrival at Lakeland was marked by an incident which went to show
that we were not in the north. Just as our train pulled in a shooting
affray, in which a couple of troopers from the Tenth U. S. cavalry, a
colored regiment and some white people participated, occurred and a
white citizen of the town was killed. As nearly as we could understand
it the troopers were not to blame but shot in self defense but there
was much excitement in the town and strong patrols of the First U. S.
cavalry, a white regiment, were sent out. We were kept in the train
that night and the next morning after a bath in one of the many lakes
from which the town takes its name, marched to our camp at the fair
grounds and on the shores of Lake Morton. The camp was pitched on an
elevation and under the southern pine and cypress trees from which hung
long festoons of Spanish moss. Much of this was gathered for bedding
but it was soon abandoned for this purpose when it was found that it
harbored numbers of lizards and sometimes small snakes.

Our neighbors at the camp were the First and Tenth regular cavalry and
the 71st New York which arrived a day after we did. The 71st men being
from Manhattan were inclined to be a bit fresh at first but they soon
came to understand that the Second was not exactly a "farmer" regiment
and let us alone. One disagreeable incident went to show that among
the New York officers were some snobs. Sergeant James Gibbons of G
while "down town" one day went into the dining room of the hotel and
ordered his dinner. The commanding officer of the 71st and some of his
officers were in the room at the time and as soon as he realized that
an enlisted man was actually daring to eat in the same room with him
his indignation became so great that he walked over to the table where
Sergeant Gibbons was seated and ordered him to leave the place, saying
that only officers were allowed in the dining room. Sergeant Gibbons
did not feel like moving and the hotel proprietor assured him that he
would be served as well as any officer. So he refused to budge and
enjoyed his dinner, much to the disgust of the New York officer.

Life at Lakeland was fairly enjoyable. The temperature was high,
ranging from 84 on one day it rained to 124 on a day it did not. We
had our big wall tents we had brought with us from South Framingham
and soon had them filled with more or less crude devices in the way
of furniture. Mattresses there were none and our beds were Mother
Earth which was of a brunette hue down there. Bathing in the lake was
a favorite pastime between drills but after the muddy bottom had been
stirred up a little it was a question whether we were dirtier before
the bath or after it. There were all kinds of "Jo Jos" about a huge
alligator who made his home in the lake but he had evidently heard of
our appetites and kept out of sight.

The First cavalry, camped some distance on our right, had established a
canteen soon after its arrival and it became a favorite place for our
boys. A couple of days after our arrival we got our first mail from
home and that day was a red letter one in our Lakeland life.

Just before reaching Lakeland some K company foragers had captured a
goat at one of the stops but the owner pursued the animal to Lakeland
and when he put in a claim for him Capt. Warriner ordered the "billy"
given up. Our menu in camp was far more varied than on the train for
"post" rations were being issued and the company cooks were "getting on
to their jobs." Private Mandeville, who afterwards acquired much fame
by being left behind at Fort Tampa, presided over the kitchen of G. In
B company Walter Butler got up savory dishes and Private Harry Fisher
looked after the culinary department for K. Butter was conspicuous by
its absence from the table and one boy in K missed it so much that he
dreamed of it. One night his dreams were so realistic that his cry of
"Ma, please pass the butter," awoke his tent mates and that expression
was the rallying cry in K for several days.

The death of Private Weslie Brass of Westfield, a member of I company,
cast a gloom over the regiment and all the companies turned out to do
escort duty when the body was shipped home. His was the first death in
the regiment.

On Sunday, May 30th, orders came to break camp the following day and
proceed to Tampa, which we did, arriving there on Monday afternoon, the
31st.




CHAPTER VII.

WE STAY IN YBOR CITY AND THEN ENJOY (?) LIFE ON TRANSPORTS IN THE
HARBOR.


Our stay in Tampa lasted from May 31st to June 7th and it was not
wholly unenjoyable. In some respects the place was better than
Lakeland, but we felt the heat far more than was the case in that town
and the camp location was not as good as that of our camp there. But we
were near Tampa and there were many opportunities for us to get to the
city, our camp being in one of the suburbs some three miles from Tampa
and known as Ybor City. Its population was made up mainly of Cubans and
negroes and a number of cigar factories were located there. The Cubans
were all "patriots" of course, but our disenchantment as to Cuban
patriots had already begun and we paid them little attention. On our
right was camped a battalion of the Fourth regular artillery (heavy)
and this was probably the occasion of a rumor which had persistent
circulation for several days that we were to be transformed from
infantry to a heavy artillery regiment and assigned to sea coast duty.

We had a lovely time pitching our tents and making camp. Owing to a
delay in laying out the camp it was not until after dark on the day
of our arrival that we set to work to pitch our tents and as a result
it was not only late before we got to sleep but the next morning
considerable work had to be done in rectifying the alignment of the
company streets. The soil was nice white sand which made fairly good
beds.

On the afternoon of the next day we found out what a Florida "shower"
could do when it tried. The rain came on unexpectedly and within a very
few moments everything was in a flood. But few of the boys had taken
the precaution to dig trenches around their tents and after the rain
began to come down in sheets they were compelled to get out in it and
dig or else have their quarters flooded. Here was where the value of
the rubber blankets issued to us at South Framingham was shown.

It was while we were at Ybor City that our regiment was definitely
assigned. We were put into the First Brigade of the Second Division
of the Fifth army corps, our brigade commander being temporarily Col.
Van Horn of the 22nd infantry while Gen. H. W. Lawton was in command
of the division. This set at rest all the rumors about our being heavy
artillery, cavalry and several other things. It also meant that we were
to go to Cuba among the very first of the invading troops and there was
no end of enthusiasm when this was understood.

During our stay in Ybor City Wagoners Kingston of B, Shene of G and
Boule of K became expert drivers of the army mule wagon although their
trials with the mule were many and various. In B street there were some
pathetic scenes when the members of the Kanewah club got together and
talked over how nice it would be "to be there" even if the gasoline
stove did not always work.

Payday came June 4th and we got our first "whack" at Uncle Sam's good
money. It was welcome, for since leaving South Framingham but little
had been in circulation among our boys and we gave the paymaster
the "glad hand." In return, he lined us up by companies and gave us
greenbacks and a little silver. We had expected a full month's pay but
were disappointed, our pay being calculated from May 3d, the day we
had officially been mustered in, to the first of June. There were many
applications for passes to visit Tampa that day and the majority of
them were granted. The Seminole hotel and the stores in Ybor City and
Tampa did a rushing business that afternoon and evening.

The "Wee Haws" of K contributed not a little to the gaiety of our camp
life at this time and one of their songs to the air of "Rally 'Round
the Flag" and reflecting upon the subsistence department was popular.
It went like this:

    Down with the hardtack!
      Hurrah, boys, hurrah,
    Down with the canned beef;
      We wonder what you are;
    For we'll rally 'round the beans, boys,
      We'll rally once again
    Shouting the battle cry of "Wee Haw."

    'Please pass the butter,'
      Hurrah, boys, hurrah!
    If the coffee was much thicker
      We'd sell it off for tar;
    For we'll never look like Billy Fish
      Unless we get more grub--
    Shouting the battle cry of "Wee Haw."

    Ade Potter's growing thinner,
      Healey's just the same
    Brazzil, Breck and Nesbitt swear,
      Their biscuit box is lame;
    For George Potter ate his canteen
      And Aiken ate the strap
    And McCullough shouts the battle cry of "Wee Haw!"

About this time some brainless individual sent alarming news home
in a letter, which was published in the Springfield newspapers, to
the effect that sickness was prevalent in our camp and that a large
proportion of the men of the three companies from that city were in
the hospital seriously ill. As a result we soon began to get letters
of anxious inquiry from the folks at home, and it was some time before
we could fully reassure them that the reports had been extremely
exaggerated and that there was but little illness and none of a serious
nature in our ranks.

While in Ybor City we lost two men, Privates Luther of K and Monteverde
of G. Both were ordered to be discharged from the service, because
of having enlisted while under age and without the consent of their
parents or guardians. Monteverde was reluctant to leave the regiment
and pleaded hard to be allowed to go with us to Cuba even as a civilian
employee, and when that was refused he offered to go without any pay.
But this was found to be impossible and he and Luther were obliged
to return home. The case of Private John K. DeLoach of B company was
a hard one. He had enlisted in South Framingham and in some way his
relatives, who resided in Atlanta, Ga., heard of it, and as he was
under age and had not their consent, applied for his discharge. Orders
to have him discharged were issued but they failed to arrive while we
were in Tampa, and did not reach us until after the regiment had landed
in Cuba and done its share in capturing Santiago. DeLoach had done his
duty during the most arduous part of the campaign, and as a result was
given a "bob tail" discharge and left to get back to the United States
as best he could. Sometimes the rewards of patriotism are not great,
and this was certainly one of the instances.

June 6th orders were received to break camp and proceed to Port Tampa,
there to go on board the transports for Cuba. We broke camp all right,
got our tents down and all baggage packed and saw them sent away
and then proceeded to wait. We waited all that afternoon and night
and until late in the afternoon of the next day before our belated
transportation was arranged for. As a result of a blunder in the
quartermaster's department, we were compelled to bivouac that night
without any shelter. This was our first real acquaintance with the
fact expressed in the statement attributed to Gen. Sherman, that "War
is h--l."

Late in the afternoon of June 7th, we marched to the railroad and
went on board a train which after a couple of hours brought us to
Port Tampa, distance about eight miles. Here we found some practical
illustrations of the beautiful manner in which the quartermaster's
department was working. It had been stated to Col. Clark that on
arriving at Port Tampa we were to immediately go on board the
transports, but after disembarking from the train and waiting for some
time it was found that no transports had been assigned to us. Nothing
could be done in the matter that night, and we were to be left to shift
for ourselves as best we could. There were no barracks in Port Tampa,
and it was too late to go into camp even if we had our tentage with us,
which we did not. After considerable scouting, Col. Clark discovered
that quarters might be found in the freight sheds on a long pier, and
we started for them only to have the entire regiment halted and held up
for some minutes at the point of the bayonet of a sentinel of the First
Illinois regiment, who was on guard at the entrance to the pier and had
orders to let no one pass. This obstacle was finally surmounted and we
marched onto the pier and made ourselves comfortable as best we could.

During that night on the pier the foraging instincts of Private "Dido"
Hunt of G company became active, and as a result he and several members
of that company passed the long hours of the night very comfortably.
The freight sheds were divided into sections, and in that allowed to
G was a lot of freight. Included were two innocent looking barrels,
but guided solely by instinct "Dido" decided to investigate their
contents. With this end in view he spread his roll and blanket by the
side of the barrels, and, lying on his side began to cut a hole through
the staves of one of them. This was rather difficult because of the
sentries, but it was finally accomplished, and much to the forager's
intense satisfaction, the insertion of his hand through the hole
and into the barrel, revealed to him that it was filled with bottled
beer. Satisfying himself in the only proper manner, that there was no
mistake, he acquainted the members of his squad and a few others with
his find and soon an impromptu picnic was in progress. Under the very
noses of the sentries, the contents of that barrel of beer disappeared
before morning, and to those in the secret the night passed very
pleasantly.

[Illustration: Lieut. William Young. Capt. Henry McDonald. Lieut. Harry
Vesper.]

The next morning four companies and headquarters of the Second were
transferred to the transport Orizaba, the companies being G, B, K and
D. The transport already had on board the Eighth and Twenty-second
regular infantry, and as a result our boys were crowded about on the
decks and compelled to sleep anywhere they could. The officers were
crowded into the staterooms and their experiences on the Orizaba were
not much more enjoyable than those of the men. Some of the regulars,
with a fine contempt for volunteers, did their best to make things as
unpleasant for us as possible, but the majority were of a different
disposition and aided us all they could, which unfortunately was not
much.

We expected to sail that day but did not. The same could be said
about our expectations and disappointments every succeeding day
until we did finally sail on the 14th. Before that happened we were
again transferred, this time to the well remembered transport,
Knickerbocker. This event happened on the 13th and when we found that
the Knickerbocker's number was 13, that she had that number of letters
in her name and that about everybody and everything connected with her
was more or less mixed up with the alleged unlucky number some of us
began to wonder what would happen. Fortunately nothing did, but that
was because somebody, not connected with the war department, or with
this world, was looking after us. The third battalion was added to our
force on board the Knickerbocker, the second being on the Seneca and
the Manteo.

On the evening of the 13th the 13 hoodoo began to work. A steam pipe
burst and some of the boys, thinking a general explosion would follow,
jumped from the deck to the dock, but although there was considerable
fuss and excitement no one was hurt. That night sleep on the
Knickerbocker was out of the question, for a gang of negro roustabouts
was engaged all night in loading provisions onto our steamer and
their cries, together with the noise of the steam winches prevented
any sleep. On the afternoon of the next day, the 14th, the steamer
finally cast off and started down the harbor in the wake of the other
transports. After being tied up in Tampa harbor for six long days we
were at last at sea and bound for Cuba.




CHAPTER VIII.

WE HAVE A LOVELY SAIL ON THE PALATIAL KNICKERBOCKER AND REACH CUBA
WITHOUT MISHAP.


Our voyage to Cuba on Transport No. 13, unofficially known as the
Knickerbocker, will long linger in our memories. The Knickerbocker
was a lovely ship but her loveliness was of such a nature that it was
seldom referred to without a free and unlimited use of adjectives in
the ratio of more than 16 to 1. After a while it got to be a case of
"Don't speak of her past, boys," and we seldom did. The present was bad
enough and as for her future, all of us had grave doubts concerning it.
There was a story from apparently authentic sources, that before the
government, in a moment of temporary aberation, engaged the services
of the Knickerbocker as a transport, she had been engaged in conveying
Italian emigrants from New York to New Orleans, and her interior
condition when we boarded her gave conformation of the stories.

Many words could be written concerning the Knickerbocker and our
opinion of her, but as a good share of them would form language not
generally used in the best society, it will be perhaps as well to draw
the veil of silence over a good part of it.

Her captain's name was Betts and he was an aged individual who savored
much of the sea and who evidently had been the victim of an early or
late disappointment, either in love or something else, that resulted
in souring him towards himself and everybody else. The name of the
steward of the boat is unknown, but this did not bother the boys much,
their usual designation of him being "thief" or "robber" or any term of
opprobrium that came handy. If he was a poor man when the Knickerbocker
sailed with us from Tampa harbor, there was no reason why he could not
have returned with money enough to start a fair sized bank account, for
he sold us everything there was to sell, and considerable that he had
no right to, and he always charged us Klondike prices for everything.
He was never under suspicion of giving away anything, not even himself.
Before the voyage was half over there came near being a mutiny among
the crew which had discovered, so they said, that the steward was
taking the provisions destined for them and selling them to such of our
boys as had money and had become weary of the luxurious and varied fare
given us by the government. At the same time his extortions had become
so burdensome to our boys that muttered threats against him were heard
and but for some of the cooler heads among the soldiers he might have
been the victim of the vengeance both of the crew and the troops.

There were thirteen staterooms on the boat and into these were crowded
32 officers. The men were "bunked" in the hold, and if there was any
provision for ventilation other than the hatches, no trace was ever
found of it. On the first night out the men slept on the decks and so
were enabled to pass the night in considerable comfort, for if the deck
planks were hard, there was at least some air and the cool sea breeze
made sleeping possible. But on the second night out there came trouble.
The surgeon was fearful that the night dews would have a bad effect
on the men, and had been told so much of the evil effects of sleeping
out in the air in tropical latitudes that he believed it best for the
men to sleep below decks. He pressed his views upon the commanding
officer, and the result was an order to the officer of the day to
allow no men to sleep above decks on that or the succeeding nights of
the voyage.

Naturally, when this order was communicated to the men, there was a
protest. There was a decided difference of opinion between the men and
the surgeon as to the evil results from sleeping on deck, and the men
were inclined to rebel against the order. However, Capt. McDonald of B
company was officer of the day, and no matter what his sympathies were,
orders were orders. So soon after "taps" had sounded he and the guard
made a tour of the boat and the sleepers were informed that they must
retire to the bunks below and complete their slumbers. Then there was
a howl of remonstrance, but it was without avail. The sleepers were
rounded up and hustled below. In protest against this came all sorts
of noise from the sleeping quarters. Songs and yells, and there was
much satire in many of the songs, came up from below. The surgeons were
alluded to as "Horse doctors" and "Salts," and one chorus that came
floating up through the hatches ran something like this:

"What do they give us for stomach ache?"

"Salts."

"What do they give us for a broken leg?"

"Salts."

"What do they give us for rheumatism?"

"Salts."

And so on through a catalogue of all the various diseases incident to
man or animals.

Finally the noise became so great that Capt. McDonald threatened to
have the hatches closed, thus destroying the last faint chance of
obtaining any air. This was met by the threat that if the hatches were
closed bullets would be fired through them, but after a while the noise
quieted down and the men dropped off to sleep. After that night the
order to sleep below decks was pretty well obeyed as the reason for
it begun to be understood by the men and they realized that it was
prompted by a desire for their welfare and not to annoy them.

Not all the boys slept below, however. Emery, Morehouse and Kelly of K
had managed to secrete themselves in one of the ships boats and made it
their sleeping quarters all the time of the voyage. As it was covered
by a tarpaulin they were well protected from the dews or rains, and in
any case they managed to keep the secret so well that they were not
molested.

G company suffered a terrible loss on the day we sailed. Private
Mandeville, the company cook, had managed to cut himself so badly in
the arm with a carving knife, during our stay at Lakeland, that he
had been excused from that duty. On our last day at Port Tampa he had
obtained shore leave and utilized it so well in looking at the wine
when it was red, or something that had the same effect, that he was
in a trance when the orders came to leave. So when the Knickerbocker
sailed, G was one man short, and after the requisite ten days had
elapsed Private Mandeville was put on the rolls as a deserter.
Fortunately for him, it was established on our return that he was
not technically a deserter, it appearing that when he woke up he had
reported himself to an officer in Tampa, and had been assigned to
remain with a party of the 71st New York which had likewise been left
behind.

Of mascots there were many on board. First of all came one James
Sargent of Washington, D. C, a young colored lad better known as
"Snowball." He had come on from Washington with some District of
Columbia troops and finding that they were not going immediately to
Cuba or for some other reason he got on board the Knickerbocker and
attached himself for better or worse to the Second Massachusetts. Any
member of the regiment can answer the query as to whether it was for
better or worse for the Second.

Then there were James and Willie Turner, two young white boys from
Tampa who had an uncontrollable desire to hie themselves over the
seas to Cuba and there end the lives of more or less Spaniards. They
remained with us until the landing on the island and then divorced
themselves from the Second and attached themselves to two regular
regiments. Both stood the campaign in far better shape than the
older men and returned to this country with enlarged views and a
determination to enlist in the regulars as soon as they were of the
requisite age.

G company had two mascots in "Rations" and "Hardtack," dogs of the cur
variety. Rations did not last out the voyage, her career being cut
short by some miscreant who threw her overboard one night, much to the
indignation of the men of the company.

A predominating feature of the trip across was the excellent fare
provided for the enlisted men by a thoughtful government. Life at sea
on a steady diet of canned beef, canned beans and canned tomatoes,
hardtack and ship's water is not conducive to embonpoint or a cheerful
and contented disposition. In the hurry of fitting up the Knickerbocker
as a transport no provision had been made to do any cooking for the
men, even if there had been anything to cook, and there was not even
a place where coffee, of which we had plenty, could be made. Finally
after a couple of days out some vigorous "kicking" resulted in the
company cooks being grudgingly allowed the use of the galley for coffee
making purposes but with the poor water the coffee was hardly equal to
that furnished at Delmonico's or other places where most of us had been
in the habit of eating.

As to the water an entire chapter could not do justice to its
qualities. There were two brands on board, one being Mississippi
river fluid with an equal quantity of mud of a rich brown color in
suspension. After obtaining a cupful of this mixture it was necessary
to allow it to stand for some little time in order that the mud might
settle to the bottom. With all its faults, however, this water when
strained was sweet and drinking it did not cause remorse.

The other water had been obtained in Tampa and it was called water
principally because it was contained in the water tanks. It did not
look much like water and tasted still less like it. But that and the
muddy fluid was all there was to drink and we had to make the best of
it.

One day when the canned beef was even worse than usual and the canned
beans greasier than ever there came to the vision of certain members
of the Springfield companies, who happened to be looking through the
skylight into the steward's pantry, a delicious looking piece of
cold roast beef hanging peacefully from a hook and destined for the
officers' lunch. Constant looking at that well cooked piece of fresh
beef begot longing, then covetousness and desire. By a silent but
unanimous vote it was decided that such a nice piece of beef would be
better appreciated by hungry enlisted men than by the officers who
had been getting more or less of it, at their own expense, during the
voyage and the next thing was the informal appointment of a committee
on ways and means to procure the aforesaid beef. An examination
revealed that the skylight could be opened from the deck and further
that a boathook was handy. These facts ascertained, a watch was kept
until the occupant of the pantry had gone out for a moment, the
skylight was quickly opened, the boathook manipulated and the piece of
beef lifted to the deck. The cook re-entered the pantry just as the
beef was disappearing through the skylight and the expression on his
face haunted the participants in the "Disappearing beef mystery" for
many hours.

[Illustration:

  Lieut Phillip C. Powers
  K. Co.

  Captain W. S. Warriner
  K. Co.

  Lieut. Harry H. Parkhurst
  K. Co.
]

In one corner of the upper deck that afternoon were a number of men
upon whose faces rested an expression of perfect contentment and whose
hands could occasionally be seen to wander over their stomachs as if to
assure themselves that cold roast beef was a suitable article of diet
for a voyage in the tropics. As no ill effects were recorded the
question was settled satisfactorily to them but it is also on record
that no more tempting bits were hung within reach of open skylights or
wandering boathooks. It is also a matter of history that the officers'
lunch that day was rather a poor meal and there was no cold meat on the
table. But Bates didn't care.

How the Knickerbocker ever escaped being run down or colliding with
some other of the vessels of the fleet is one of the mysteries of the
deep. Not less than half a dozen narrow escapes are on record in the
memory of the men who were on her and on one or two occasions the
escapes were so narrow that a few feet either way would have done the
job for the Knickerbocker and her crew and passengers. On one occasion
another boat came so near to running us down that half the men were
ready to jump into the sea but the other boat finally sheered off
by the closest margin. The "Thirteen" hoodoo came near to finding
believers among those on the Knickerbocker before Cuba was reached.

Bathing hours were established on board after the first day out, each
company being allowed an hour aft each day during which the men could
"turn the hose" on each other to their heart's content. As, however,
there was but little salt water soap on board and that little was in
the hands of the steward to be retailed by him at robber baron prices
these attempts at cleanliness proved rather abortive, for it was soon
ascertained that ordinary soap does not lather in salt water and the
effects of the bath under these circumstances was worse if anything
than in Lakeland.

So the days went on until on the 20th we saw the low outline of the
Cuban coast late in the afternoon and at the same time saw the flashes
and heard the dull reports of big guns which told us that the navy was
having a brush with the foe. It lasted only for a few moments, but
this was the first time we had heard guns fired in actual conflict and
although we could see but little the rigging was crowded until long
after the guns were silent. We learned afterwards that it was only
a little brush some of the blockading fleet were having with a fort
near Santiago but it was mighty interesting to us while it lasted.
All the next day the fleet cruised about apparently aimlessly and
that night the Knickerbocker "got lost." How it ever happened no one
knows excepting the captain of the ship and he never volunteered an
explanation so far as we knew. It was expected that we would land that
day but just before dusk a dispatch boat raced up alongside and without
stopping speed an officer on board shouted through a megaphone an order
to Captain Betts to continue "cruising to the northwest, keeping in
touch with the fleet." So off we cruised to the northwest but the rest
of the order as to keeping in touch with the fleet was not carried out.
The next morning when we woke up we found the Knickerbocker all alone
with not a sail or line of smoke on the horizon and with apparently no
one knowing where we were or what we were doing there. Inquiries of
Captain Betts met with gruff and non-committal response and it was not
until just before noon that we came in sight of the rest of the fleet
off Daiquiri and learned that the landing had begun and that had we got
there when we should the Second would have been the first regiment to
land on Cuban soil. Then things were said concerning Capt. Betts and
his boat that would not look nice in print.

Over on our left the big guns of the warships were pounding away at the
fortifications while the small caliber guns were sending in a storm
of bullets into the woods and hills along the shore, clearing them
out before the landing. From the warships to the transports danced
an almost steady stream of launches and small boats to assist in the
landing. The invasion of Cuba by the Fifth army corps was a fact at
last.




CHAPTER IX.

WHEREIN IS NARRATED OUR LANDING AT DAIQUIRI AND SOME THINGS WHICH
SUBSEQUENTLY HAPPENED.


It was not until well along in the afternoon that the Knickerbocker's
passengers started for the shore and as it was not all of them landed
that day, the third battalion being left on board until the 23d.
For many long hours the steamer backed and filled together with the
other vessels and the men, loaded down as they were with their field
equipment and waiting for the word to disembark, found plenty of time
to enjoy the stirring scenes about them. There were the grim painted
war ships, all ready for business and their hustling "Jackies" working
like beavers to aid in landing us "doughboys." Between the big ships
danced the saucy torpedo boats and destroyers and quick puffing
launches having in tow strings of small boats, these being our means of
transportation from the ship to the land. In front were the frowning
hills which guarded the coast line and from which an enemy of any
determination could have easily prevented our landing. On a plateau
directly in front of us was the village of Daiquiri, abandoned that
morning by the Spaniards after a brief bombardment by our fleet, while
a force of Cubans got along in time to worry the retreating enemy. A
portion of the village and the works were still smoldering, having been
fired by the Spaniards before they left the place.

Daiquiri was the seat of the Spanish-American Iron company and a
narrow gauge railroad connects it with Juguaracito or Siboney where
the company had quite an extensive establishment. Jutting out into the
water was a high iron pier and it was supposed we were to land there,
but this was found to be impossible after one or two trials.

Meanwhile after long waiting a dinky little steam launch from the
battleship Massachusetts and followed by a string of small boats,
came alongside the Knickerbocker and the youthful ensign in charge
allowed that he was ordered to take headquarters and as many others
of the regiment as possible on shore. This was agreeable and Col.
Clark and his field and staff embarked in the launch without much
trouble, although the job of climbing down a slippery rope ladder,
then hanging on by both hands to the side ropes and waiting until the
next high wave brought the launch up to within a couple of feet of you
and then falling more or less, mostly less, gracefully into it, was
not particularly pleasing. After headquarters, a platoon of G company
embarked and this filled the boats.

How to get on shore from the boats appeared to grow into a serious
problem as we neared the landing place. This was an old wooden pier,
which jutted out some little distance from the land. There was a heavy
surf on and the little basin in which the pier stood was jammed with
boats and launches, all apparently very much snarled up but which in
reality were being ably managed. After much maneuvering our launch was
jammed alongside the pier and the next problem was how to get upon
it. The supporting piles rose high up from the water and their slimy
surface offered no inducement to attempt climbing. One moment we would
be down in the trough of a wave and then the launch would be lifted
up almost to the top of the pier and the sailors would be hard put to
it to keep the boats from being dashed against the huge piling of the
pier. The method of our landing could hardly be called dignified. As
the boat would be raised almost to a level with the floor of the pier
by a wave our rolls and equipment would be tossed up to some soldiers
waiting to assist us. Then down the boat would go again and when the
next wave raised it we would stand up on the thwarts of the boat, reach
up our hands, two of the men on the pier would grasp them and we would
scramble up the best we could. In this way the first lot was landed and
the boats hustled back to the ship after another load of passengers.
The pier was connected with the land by some loose planks and across
these we walked gingerly, finally reaching terra firma. We were on
Cuban soil at last.

On shore there was as much bustle and confusion as in the landing.
Many of the regulars and a part of "Ours" had already landed but there
appeared to be no system, and officers and men were scattered about
everywhere. A short distance from the pier was a typical Cuban "shack"
as the regulars called it, a roughly built shed with a roof of palm
leaf thatch and around this was a lot of Cuban soldiers who were making
themselves "good fellows" by giving away cocoanuts, of which they had
a couple of large bags. They, the soldiers, were of varying shades of
blackness and their "uniforms" consisted mostly of nothing. Some had
more clothing than the others, but few had anything like a complete
outfit. They were barefooted and bareheaded but all had the inevitable
machete and some kind of a firearm, from the latest model Spanish
Mauser and the navy Lee to an old shotgun. They could talk English
about as well as we could Spanish and the sign language was used with
more or less success.

Having filled up on cocoanuts, which tasted good, we became thirsty.
A water pipe ran along the ground and we soon found a faucet, but the
first man to take a drink spat out the water and said some sharp and
emphatic things concerning it at which we mildly wondered until he
calmed down sufficiently to tell us that it was "hot enough to boil
eggs in." Sure enough it was. The pipes ran along on the surface of the
ground and the sun did the rest.

"_Mucho caliente agua_," commented a ragged "Cubana" as he noticed our
disgusted looks and one or two who understood enough Spanish to know
what he meant agreed with him. Then he grinned as only a Cuban can and
pointing to the plateau where the main part of the village was located,
said: "_Agua fresca_," which being interpreted meant "cold water."
So off we started for the plateau and there found several barrels of
fresh water which was fairly cool. Among the "shacks" which composed
the town we found a "brigade" of the "brave" Cuban soldiers. They were
having a good time recounting their exploits and staring at "_los
Americano soldados_," whose rough and ready manners were not always to
their liking. A few of their field officers were almost white in color
and decently uniformed but the majority, like the men, were black and
distinguished from their men by small silver stars worn on a strap
across the breast, three being the insignia of a captain, two of a
first lieutenant and one of a second lieutenant.

A point of much interest to our men were the burning shops, which the
Spaniards had fired before retreating. On the railway track was a
locomotive and some cars which had been disabled and burnt. Additional
interest was caused by the pursuit, capture and summary execution of an
unwise pig by a mob of our men and Cubans.

All our battalions having landed, we began our march into the interior
just before 5 o'clock. The brigade commander, Col. Van Horn of the 22d
was injured on the 22d and the command was temporarily assigned to our
commander, Col. Clark. As Lieut. Col. Shumway was left on the boat,
Major Southmayd took command of the two battalions on shore. We marched
some five miles toward Santiago, across country, the march being along
a narrow and rough trail and halted for the night by the side of the
trail. On our way we had to ford a stream and began to experience some
of the realities of war.

That night we had to face our first real experience at going hungry.
It had been understood that we were not to go inland that day and
that rations would be sent us from the ships so no orders to take any
with us had been issued. A few of the men had the foresight to stuff
whatever food they could into their haversacks but the majority had
nothing and went supperless to bed. The regulars bivouacked near us
were in the same fix and there was much grumbling. However, officers
and men were in the same box and there was nothing to do but make the
best of it.

At dawn the next morning we rolled up our outfits and started off
again. Our method of packing up was expeditious. Each man carried one
half of a shelter tent, better known to us as a "dog" tent and later
"pup" tents because of their small size, they being just about large
enough for two men to crawl into. The half shelter was laid on the
ground and upon it was spread first the rubber blanket and then the
woolen one. Our canvas blouses and whatever personal property we had
were then placed on top, together with the tent sticks and pegs and
the whole neatly rolled. The ends were secured with the tent rope and
the roll thus formed was carried over the left shoulder, the ends
hanging down on the right side of the body. Thus equipped, with our
full canteens and empty haversacks, we took to the road again after our
first night on Cuban soil. Details of men from each company were sent
back to the ships after rations and we started for Siboney. An early
morning march on an empty stomach is not conducive to an appreciation
of scenery be it ever so grand, but some of us enjoyed it. All about
us were hills and mountains, their peaks clear cut against the blue
sky, while from the tops of two or three rose thin smoke columns which
we supposed were from signal fires. Our trail led us through valleys
and over hills until finally about 11 o'clock we struck upon something
that looked like a road and on which we were enabled to march for a
short time in columns of fours. Anyone who had ever seen the Second on
a parade in Springfield or Worcester or at camp and seen us straggling
along the Cuban trail in single file would have laughed outright at the
contrast, as we were forced to ourselves. Later on we looked even worse.

That day the "stripping" process, familiar to all armies in a campaign,
was begun. Two companies of the second battalion, E and M had "toted"
their knapsacks with them from their transports and about the second
day out they were sorry for so doing. Hardly had we been an hour on
the march that morning before the knapsacks began to disappear and the
troops which followed us soon knew that the Second Massachusetts had
passed by, meeting scores of Cubans with E and M company knapsacks
on their backs and sweltering but happy in the closely buttoned cape
overcoats discarded with the knapsacks. Fortunately our knapsacks and
all our heavy baggage had been left on board ship but it was not long
before we found our rolls becoming heavy and burdensome. Pretty soon a
man would quietly drop out of the line, off would come his roll which
was quickly opened, and some article he fancied he could do without,
thrown into the bush. Then the roll would be fastened together, thrown
over the owner's shoulder and he would hasten to rejoin his company. A
few moments afterward a ragged Cubano might be seen poking around about
the bushes and next the discarded articles would be in his possession.

And it may as well be told here that it was not only the Second
Massachusetts that strewed more or less valuable or necessary articles
along the trails. The regulars were with us in that, and although, as a
rule, they had brought less baggage ashore with them than we did, they
soon found it convenient to get rid of much of it. They even discarded
their blankets, some cutting them in half and retaining only one part,
while we stuck to the blankets and sacrificed other things. We never
were sorry either that we kept our blankets, for if the days were
intensely warm, the nights were cool and coverings came in handy.

That afternoon, soon after we had struck the short piece of good road
referred to above, we left it and following a narrow trail debouched
into some woods and after passing through them, found ourselves in a
cocoanut grove. There were hundreds of the trees all laden with the
fruit, and a halt was ordered, arms stacked and we were allowed to
rest. About this time we were decidedly hungry, our breakfast having
consisted of nothing and our dinner menu being the same. The cocoanuts
looked inviting but they were far away at the tops of the branchless
trees. But hunger is a spur and it was not long before some daring ones
were "shinning up" the trees and down came the fruit. Alas! It was a
disappointment to hopes of a satisfactory meal. After the hard, green
outer husks had been chopped away it was found that the cocoanuts were
green, and a copious flow of soldier language greeted this discovery.
But it was not long before it was discovered that the milk of the green
cocoanut makes a very palatable drink, and in a few moments we all
became milkmen.

The march resumed we struck into another piece of woods, forded a brook
or two, (we had by this time gotten over minding our feet being wet,)
and found ourselves once more on a narrow and rough trail. On our way
through the woods we saw, stretched along a rough fence, the body of
a huge snake of the constrictor variety, not long killed and looking
decidedly fierce. The reptile was about eight feet long and as thick as
a man's arm. A little further along we saw something which indicated
that we were in a rough country. This was a human skull nailed on top
of a post and grinning at us with empty eye sockets and toothless jaws,
as we passed.

A little further along and we struck another narrow stream which, of
course, had to be forded, and up a hill, just beyond that we came to a
railroad station and the track. Here were some of our advance guard,
men of the Eighth regulars who informed us that Siboney was "just
'round the corner," as one of them put it, and sure enough after a few
moments more of the "Weary Willie" act, we came to a collection of
"shacks," and realized that we were in Siboney. Now that word "Siboney"
means much to us because it reminds us that there we ate, a fact
sufficiently momentous on that day to linger long in our memories.

Now as to the methods of our eating. It was only a short time before
our arrival that the Spaniards had evacuated Siboney after firing a
few shots at our advance guard and the natives, who had "jumped the
town" when the Spaniards told them there was going to be a big battle
in which they were going to annihilate the "pigs of Yanquis," were
just beginning to come back. We were ordered to camp on a low piece
of ground on one side of the railroad embankment and after putting up
our "pup" tents a few hungry ones went into the town to see what could
be seen and incidentally to acquire what there was to acquire in the
commissary line. They were successful in the latter. The natives were
glad to see them and freely gave of what little they had. This wasn't
much but there was some rice and some queer looking but good tasting
messes of which our men were freely invited to partake. In one house in
particular there were two aged women who busied themselves for hours
cooking rice and other dishes for our men and who at first would not
accept anything in payment. Finally it was forced upon them and before
evening there was more silver money in that poor "shack" than had
probably been the case for many a day. All through the village it was
the same and the hospitality we received at Siboney did much to change
for a time the unfavorable opinion we had formed of the Cubans.

Not only was there food but drink. There was cool water in all the
houses and there was also "bino," a sour Cuban wine like claret and
some fiery "rou" or rum which brought tears to the eyes of more than
one man who thought he was spirit proof. All that afternoon we mingled
freely with the people, looked all through the town, examined with
interest the Spanish block houses and some of us went in surf bathing
on the pretty little beach in front of the town.

Late that afternoon the third battalion came up and about the same time
the details which had been sent back for rations, made their appearance
with about enough provisions to whet our appetite, they having found
the task of lugging supplies for a company, nearly ten miles, beyond
their strength.




CHAPTER X.

IN WHICH IS TO BE FOUND THE TALE OF "CRAB HOLLOW" AND SOME OTHER THINGS.


When we retired to our luxurious couches that night of June 23d, most
of us, excepting the guards, anticipated sleep, but we little recked
what that night had in store for us. As told before, our camp was
pitched on a low piece of ground and among a lot of sparse bushes.
We did not know until the next day that the camping ground was an
old burial place, and we were also not well enough up in the natural
history of things Cuban to understand that if there is any one place
the dainty land crab prefers for its habitat it is a cemetery and this
preference rests upon a purely gastronomic basis. The land crab and the
vulture are the great scavengers of Cuba and while the latter disposes
of anything eatable left above ground the land crab looks after bodies
or anything else placed under ground. In the afternoon we had noticed
the holes of the land crabs but paid little attention to them, and only
saw a few of the crustaceans, but at night we made their acquaintance
at close quarters. We were pretty well fagged out with the heat and
the marching, and this, with the strange sensation of having something
to eat in our stomachs, tended to drowsiness. But hardly had we got
settled in our tents before there were strange rustlings and noises
and then the sensation of something crawling. There were some quick
arisings and the sound of matches hastily struck and then exclamations
and profanity. In some of the companies there was hardly a tent that
had not been pitched over one or more land crab holes and the occupants
of these had begun an investigation. Crawling over the sleepers
usually resulted in awakening them and then came the exclamations,
the illumination by the matches and the pursuit and slaughter of the
visitors. The land crab is not an aggressive animal towards man and
the greeting tendered him usually resulted in his scuttling for his
hole. Not always did he reach there, for many fell victims to ramrods,
clubs and other weapons. One able bodied crab was caught in the act of
backing into his hole with a stocking in his claws, and yielded up his
life for his rapacity. It may have been that he intended to eat the
stocking, and had he done so his fate would have been the same anyway.
The crabs had a pleasant trick that night of crawling half way up the
outside of the tents and then losing their hold and dropping to the
ground. That was bad enough as a deterrent to sleep, but it was not
all. In the afternoon some I company men had repaired a locomotive
disabled by the Spaniards, and kept running it up and down the tracks,
to an accompaniment of bell and whistle, until a late hour.

Bright and early the next morning we were up and as on the day before
looking for grub. Rations were still "shy" and once more we had
recourse to our friends the Siboneyians who gave us what they could,
which was not much, as their own supplies were running low.

Meanwhile the remainder of the transports had come to Siboney and were
landing the rest of the expedition. They had a little different method
of doing it than at Daiquiri. The boats would be filled with men and
towed in as near shore as possible when the men would have to jump out
and wade ashore. Some of them didn't like getting their feet wet but
they had to just the same.

It was some little time before noon when we heard firing from over the
hills and learned that the cavalry brigade had gone on a reconnoisance
in force in that direction. It was only a short time afterwards when
we saw the first wounded begin to come down the trail and learned
that they had found the enemy in force at Las Guasimas and had quite
a go with him. The First and Tenth United States cavalry, our old
neighbors at Lakeland, and the Rough Riders were engaged and from all
accounts were having a warm time. Col. Clark of the Second was acting
as commander of our brigade and receiving orders from Gen. Lawton
to reinforce the cavalry, left for the scene with the Eighth and
Twenty-second Infantry. They arrived there just as the Spaniards were
running and finding nothing for them to do returned to Siboney.

One of the largest buildings in the town had been converted into
a temporary hospital and it was soon filled with the wounded. Our
regimental surgeons, Drs. Bowen, Gates and Hitchcock were pressed
into service and rendered valuable aid. That hospital was our first
introduction to some of the grim realities of war but the boys stood it
well and were anxious to get to the front as quickly as possible. One
of the warships with the transports added to the excitement by shelling
the woods on top of a point near us and we began to conclude it would
be our turn next.

But it was not long before our thoughts were turned from the vision of
great deeds in battle to a more prosaic but necessary matter. A lot of
rations had been landed and soon we were revelling in such delicacies
as hardtack, "sowbelly" bacon, coffee, canned beef (?) and canned
tomatoes. Orders were issued for each man to take four days' rations
but our haversack capacity was not equal to this and we packed all we
could into our rolls. Even then we could not take all the issue and
what was left we gave to our friends, the people of Siboney, who gladly
accepted what we didn't want. The issue was hardly begun before Col.
Clark gave us orders to move and off we started about 4.30 in the
afternoon. We had not gone far in the direction of Las Guasimas before
we came to the conclusion that the commissary department of the army
had at least one genius who deserved a medal and some other things.
About half the issue of tomatoes was in gallon cans and it was planned
to have one man carry them a short distance and then let another sharer
of the can relieve him. But our route lay up hill and we hit up a
lively pace so that it was not long before there was a "kick" about
the tomatoes. The ending of the kick in every case was a noise which
indicated that the can had landed in the bushes and when tired out, we
reached our bivouac place that night there were but few gallon cans of
tomatoes left with the outfit.

Meanwhile we kept steadily climbing up into the hills, finding rough
footing and stumbling over rocks and everything else in the darkness
until about 9 o'clock we reached the scene of the battle and found the
First and Tenth cavalry burying their dead. We passed on in silence but
we did quite a bit of thinking. A short distance further up we halted
on a level bit of ground by the side of the Rough Riders and after
making our simple preparations for our night's bivouac heard their tale
of the fight. Our cooking fires were soon going and we not only heard
Roosevelt's men tell their experiences and gave them our sympathy,
but what they wanted more at that particular time, we gave them food,
sharing our rations with them. One New York paper, in its story of
the Las Guasimas fight spoke of the Second Massachusetts as having
"supported the Rough Riders," but so far as we knew our only support to
them was that night when we certainly did support them with our rations.

When we landed in Cuba a detail of men from each company was left on
the boats to look after property and as we learned afterwards they
heard all sorts of stories about what happened to us that day. But
all the stories agreed that the Second had been having a bad time of
it and that our loss was heavy. One New York newspaper man had been
given a circumstantial account of our regiment having been surrounded
by the Spaniards and of our cutting our way out with a heavy loss in
officers and men and was so impressed by it that he wrote a very pretty
story which he was on the point of having cabled to his paper when a
brother correspondent happened along and convinced him that as we were
at Siboney until the action was all over we could hardly have been so
badly cut up. So the story was not cabled but it was a narrow escape.

When we left Siboney that afternoon G company was left behind to assist
in unloading supplies for our brigade, one company from each regiment
being detailed for that purpose. They left Siboney early the next
morning and reached us just as we were preparing to resume the march
again.

Our next camping place was on a plateau near where had once been a
sizeable plantation and which was only a short distance from Las
Guasimas. Here we remained two days taking life easy before we again
took up the march. On the 27th we reached Sevilla and there remained
until late in the afternoon of June 30th. During our stay in
Sevilla occurred another food shortage and also the great tobacco
famine. Rations were hard to get and so were medicines. There was so
much feeling over the delinquency in getting our supplies up to us that
a meeting of the company commanders was held and a committee appointed
to wait upon Col. Clark to see if something could not be done. The
outcome of all the talk was the loan of some of the horses of the field
and staff to a detail which, in charge of Lieut. Vesper of B, went back
to the ships and obtained a small supply of provisions and tobacco.
The cause of the failure to keep the troops supplied lay with the
quartermaster's department which had apparently broken down utterly,
for though there were tons upon tons of supplies already landed
at Siboney there was not enough of pack trains or other means of
transportation to get them up to us. We all fared alike at this time,
officers and men, regulars and volunteers, and our brigade, the leading
one in the army, had been hustled along so fast that it was difficult
under any circumstances to get supplies to us owing to the distance and
the condition of the roads.

On the 28th the new commander of the brigade, Gen. Ludlow, reported and
relieved Col. Clark who resumed command of the Second. Lieut. Harry
Parkhurst of K who had been acting as aide-de-camp on the brigade staff
was also relieved and rejoined his company.

The tobacco famine was relieved somewhat by some of the weed brought
from the ships by the various "relief expeditions" and also by the
arrival of the details which had been left on the boats and the
majority of the members of which had gained permission to rejoin us
as soon as they heard the stories about our having been in action and
losing heavily. The horse detail also came up and brought to Adjutant
Hawkins the news that his horse had been drowned while being got
ashore. As the chaplain's horse and one owned by Hospital Steward
Fortier had been stolen while in Tampa by "Billy the Hostler" there was
a shyness of horses around headquarters.

While in Tampa Private T. C. Boone of K had been transferred to the
signal corps with the rank of sergeant and afterwards became a member
of the war balloon squad. On the afternoon of the 20th we saw the
famous balloon for the first time and watched it with interest as it
rose above the trees near our camp. We understood that Boone was one
of the men in the car and for that reason the balloon had more than
usual interest for us of the Springfield companies. The next afternoon
another ascension was made and again we watched the "big gas bag" and
speculated in a pessimistic vein upon its successful use. Our doubts
as to its usefulness turned out to be correct.

On the 28th the good news was announced that we could send mail home
that afternoon and there was great scrambling for pens, pencils, paper
and envelopes. It was our first opportunity since we had landed to send
letters and that it was taken advantage of the big mail bags that left
headquarters late that afternoon for division headquarters attested.

Probably the condition in which about all our letters reached the folks
at home was fully explained soon after our return, but it will bear
retelling. When we landed most of us had paper, envelopes and stamps.
But these were carried either in the haversacks or rolls and with the
heat the envelope flaps became stuck together, likewise the stamps and
paper became dirty. All were about in the same condition, so in order
to get a letter into an envelope it was necessary to slit the latter
at one end, insert the letter and then sew up the envelope. As most
of the sewing was done with black thread and the envelopes were not
especially clean the effect upon the good folks at home must have been
rather startling, especially when the letters came without stamps, as
they usually did. In place of stamps the government allowed the use of
the words, "Soldier's Letter" in one corner of the envelope and when
indorsed by an officer was allowed to go through.

From our camp we could see a portion of the fortifications of Santiago
and especially two large buildings which we were informed were barracks
that had been transformed into hospitals and over which we could with
field glasses see a number of Red Cross flags floating. We heard many
weird tales as to what the Spaniards had done and would do and the
stories, mainly of Cubans, as to how many troops were in the city,
varied all the way from 10,000 to 40,000. On the 29th the much talked
of "army" of Gen. Calixto Garcia arrived and it was a motley looking
outfit, mostly black in color and of great variety, principally of
lack of quantity, as to uniforms but fairly well supplied with arms
and ammunition. The knowledge of English of the component parts of
Garcia's forces was about equal to out knowledge of Spanish, but
considerable interchange of ideas was effected, principally by signs.
One or two of the warriors would stroll into camp and after standing
around a bit with the inevitable Cuban grin would exclaim, "_Santiago,
boum, boum?_" at the same time pointing to the city. We could do no
less than to assure them there would be plenty of "_boum, boum_" and
that when it happened Santiago would be "on the bum." The ice thus
broken, the Cuban's machete was examined and the wearer induced to
give an exhibition of its use both as a weapon and a handy tool for
many purposes. Generally before they left camp they would "borrow"
some "tobac" and if they could obtain some hardtack or bacon they went
away happy. Sometimes they brought us some mangoes or "monkey plums"
and then would follow some great bartering. The surgeons in an excess
of zeal had warned us against the mango but we pinned our faith to the
Cubans' declaration that if one didn't eat mangoes and drink liquor on
the same day no evil effects would result from the free and unlimited
use of the fruit. The mango tastes nice but it is an acquired art to
know how to eat it without getting three-quarters of it over one's
face and clothing. Still it came in handy when our rations were short,
which was about always and we were not over fastidious as to how we ate
anything in those days.




CHAPTER XI.

WHICH TELLS HOW WE GOT READY TO TAKE THE TOWN OF EL CANEY.


It was shortly after noon on June 30th that the "JoJo" department began
to circulate the news that we were to move on to Santiago that day or
the next and for the first and only time during the campaign the "JoJo"
happened to be right. Orders had arrived for a forward movement and
although we had no idea of where we were to go or what we were to do
there was a feeling of satisfaction that we were to go somewhere and do
something.

Of even more importance than the orders at this particular time was the
arrival of a well laden pack train with rations. When the mules were
first discerned coming "up the pike" it was supposed they were carrying
ammunition as the last two or three pack trains had brought little
excepting cartridges. But this time we were agreeably disappointed.
There was a plentiful supply of "sowbelly," hardtack and coffee and
it was not long before it was being distributed. The tobacco famine
had temporarily been relieved and now we actually had food. So we were
pretty well satisfied with life after all.

How it rained that day! It came on in the forenoon and in less than
ten minutes everybody and everything was saturated. It was a straight
downpour of water and rubber blankets were of little use in keeping us
or our belongings dry so we simply got wet and stayed in that condition
until the sun came out and did his best to dry things up quickly.

Early that afternoon we saw the war balloon again and watched it with
much interest, everybody "rubbernecking" at the unwonted sight. In the
car, although we did not know it at the time, was poor "Tom" Boone of
"K" and those of us who knew him little recked what the next day would
bring to him. For that matter there was considerable uncertainty as to
what the future meant for any of us. We heard late in the day that we
were sure to get into action on the next day but somehow the knowledge
did not appear to worry but a few of the boys. The happenings of the
campaign thus far had done much to produce a feeling of contempt for
the fighting abilities of the Spaniards and some of us figured that all
we would have to do was to make a demonstration in force and the enemy
would then either retreat or surrender. How mistaken we were the next
day was to tell us.

It was late in the afternoon when the advance on El Caney by Lawton's
division was begun and it was not until almost 6 o'clock that our
brigade, which being one of the nearest to the city, was among the last
to get away, made its start. Most of us will never forget that night
march. The rain of the morning had resulted as usual in making whatever
roads and trails there were into very fine specimens of mud puddles and
unfortunately for us the greater part of our way led up hill. When the
rations were issued in the afternoon the company commissaries had not
time to complete their distribution and thinking that the march was
to be a short and easy one those of G and B concluded that it would
be better to have some of the provisions carried in bulk rather than
to take time to divide and issue them. So a number of men from each
company were detailed to carry a couple of slabs of "sowbelly" and
others the remaining boxes of hardtack. This worked very nicely for a
time until it became dark and the hill climbing act began. Then there
was trouble. The trail up the hill was about as slippery as any we
ever marched along in Cuba and it was moreover filled with rocks and
boulders over which climbing was not the easiest matter in the world.
Before they had gone very far the ration detail began to think that
something was wrong and these thoughts developed into a certainty as
we still kept climbing along up a pretty steep ascent and the boxes of
hardtack and the sides of bacon (?) began to grow heavier and heavier
and more difficult to handle. For convenience in packing them along
with us both Sergeants Scully and Bearse had nailed long handles onto
the hardtack boxes and had made a somewhat similar arrangement to carry
the bacon but the carriers had not gone far before the handles worked
off and after awhile it got to be a question of dropping the rations
or killing the men trying to carry them. It was pitch dark, the trail
was difficult and besides all the men had a pretty fair supply of
"grub" in their haversacks, so a silent and informal vote was taken
and the bulk of the extra rations were quietly left by the side of the
trail. Meanwhile the rest of us were not having so much of a picnic
even though we were not encumbered with extra baggage. The mud made
marching difficult even along the road which led from the camp. Soon we
left this and came to the San Juan creek, passing a company of soldiers
who were actually bathing. Our surprise at this unwonted scene was not
allowed to last long, for the trail lay on the other side of the creek
and we were obliged to ford it. This was not by any means as easy as
it looked. The banks were high and slippery with mud and the water was
over our legging tops but in we plunged and scrambled across to the
other side and into a thick piece of woods, shaking the water from
ourselves dog fashion as we again took up the march. Hardly had we got
across before low spoken orders came down the line for every man to
keep silent and to march as quietly as possible. This made us realize
that something was on and the orders were pretty well obeyed although
all the orders in the world could not keep some of the men from saying
things concerning the trail and night marches in general.

In ragged fashion we stumbled along through the woods, the only
military regulation we followed out being that of keeping well "closed
up." We simply had to do this because it was so dark and the trail so
narrow and rough that unless one kept very "close tabs" on his file
leader it was a question of getting lost and going it alone and this
none of us desired to do.

We had not gone far before we came to another creek or it may have
been another turn of the first one, we did not know or care which, but
into it we plunged and again got our feet wet and muddy. Hardly had we
gained the other side before we came across a forlorn looking figure
in a bit of a clearing by the side of the trail and a voice with an
unmistakeable western twang inquired if we were the Rough Riders. The
owner of the voice was informed that we were the Second Massachusetts
and he then remarked, "Well, you're a pretty good outfit and I guess
I'll go along with you." He then announced himself as the chaplain of
the Rough Riders and said he had left camp a little behind his regiment
and had not only been unable to catch up with it but could obtain no
trace of its whereabouts. We told him his regiment had probably gone
over towards San Juan hill, it being in another division than ours and
he then allowed that he would not bother looking further that night but
would accompany us. We made no objection and he trudged along with us
for the rest of the way.

Soon after meeting the chaplain we forded creek number three but by
this time we were used to getting our feet wet and did not mind it
much. After fording this stream, a narrow but rather deep one, we
began to get up in the world and soon discovered that we were on the up
grade. For nearly two hours more we stumbled along, sometimes passing
through thick woods and again along open country. The moon came out
faintly after a bit, but her light did little towards revealing to
us the difficulties of the route we were following. We had a couple
of brief halts but it was not until a little after 10 o'clock that a
whispered command to halt was given and we were informed that we were
to go into bivouac by the road side.

Following this order came a renewal of the previous ones against
making any noise and we were also given strict orders not to make a
fire or even strike a match. These precautions we assumed were to
keep our presence unknown to the enemy and although most of us wanted
the comfort of a pipe or cigarette after our fatiguing march yet we
refrained. There was of course much speculation over the why and
wherefore of the night march and the orders against noise or fire but
the generally accepted assumption was that we had stolen a march upon
the Spaniards, had penetrated their lines, and in the morning would
march into Santiago before the astonished enemy had partaken of his
morning coffee. This surmise was given color by the fact that from
where we were we could look down into the city, its locality being
indicated by the lights from the governor general's palace and other
official buildings. We were on a plateau that overlooked the city,
and so far as we could judge, our presence was absolutely undetected.
Santiago appeared to be sleeping peacefully and looked for all the
world like some small New England city which is locked up every night
at 8.30 or 9 and whose residents then go to bed and stay there until
morning.

[Illustration: LEHIGH DETAIL FROM COMPANY H]

For thinking such thoughts we were indeed what are known in the
vernacular as "good things," for as it transpired afterwards the
Spaniards knew all about where we were and where we were going. Had it
not been for their traditional policy of "manana" they might have
sallied out and done several things to us, but they preferred to wait
until the next day, which was a lucky thing for us.

Sleep comes quickly to a soldier in bivouac and soon after our halt
every one of us, with the exception of the guards, was asleep. No
attempt was made to put up the shelter tents, but we contented
ourselves with unrolling them, spreading them upon the grass and
wrapping ourselves up in our blankets. A few of us lunched upon
hardtack and raw bacon washed down with muddy water from the canteens
but the majority of the boys were too tired to think even of eating.

That night the premonition came to some of our boys that the morrow
would be their last day on earth and although we tried to laugh it out
of them they stuck to it that their fate was settled. One of these boys
was Frank Moody of K and so strongly was he impressed with the feeling
of coming disaster to himself that he made one of his comrades take his
watch and promise to deliver his farewell message to the loved ones at
home.

Tired soldiers sleep soundly and it seemed as if we had only slumbered
a few moments when we were awakened, not by the usual bugle call, but
by low whispers from the officers and non-commissioned officers. It was
hardly dawn and a thin mist concealed from view the city below us and
the hills that surrounded us. Little by little the mist disappeared
before the advance of the sun and when dawn came the scene was so
impressive in its grandeur that even the most careless amongst us
felt it. Just below us was Santiago still wrapped in the morning mist
and apparently still unaroused from its slumbers. All about us were
frowning hills and mountains and in the distance we could see the
harbor outside of which sat the grim war ships of the United States
waiting for their prey to come out and be eaten up. Not a sign from the
enemy and we wondered.

But we wondered even more when we turned our eyes a little to the right
and there saw Capron's light battery, still unlimbered and apparently
in plain view of the sentries of the enemy and our wonder increased as
we saw the smoke from the cooking fires of the batterymen and watched
them preparing their morning meal. For, be it understood, our brigade
commander had sent word along that the orders of the night before as to
noise and fires were still in force and we had breakfasted on hardtack
and water. And there were the artillerymen with their fires lighted and
frying their bacon and making their coffee as if there were no such
orders and not a Spaniard within fifty miles. We could not understand
it and for that matter we do not to this day. Maybe somebody does but
if so we never heard of it.

It was bad enough to almost smell the hot coffee, for the morning air
was cool and raw, and to see the batterymen drinking it with relish,
but it was far worse to see them nonchalantly light their pipes and
cigarettes and enjoy them. Since the night before we had been deprived
of the solace of tobacco and anyone who has ever soldiered knows what
that means. But when we saw the red striped gunners enjoying the weed
we made up our minds to follow suit. In a very short time our pipes
were going and the officers sympathetically not only forebore to stop
us but soon began to puff their pipes. Even a cold breakfast can be
enjoyed with a tobacco dessert and that early morning smoke on the
threshold of the battlefield was a much appreciated one.

Meanwhile we had been getting ready and as packing up did not take us
long it was but a short time after we were aroused from our slumbers
before we had fallen in and were ready for what the day might bring
forth. While waiting for orders to march we heard the noise of hoofs
coming up the trail and Gen. Lawton and his staff clattered by us on
their way to the front. A couple of Cuban officers were with them and
they were evidently pleased with the work cut out for the Americans
that day. Only a few moments after the general had passed came the
orders to march and we were soon "hitting the trail" again, this time
on the down grade.

It was then about 4.30 in the morning. We moved along slowly, the trail
being so narrow it was necessary to go in column of files and it was
fully as bad walking as the route we had gone over the previous night.
After a little we came to a brook and took advantage of the opportunity
to fill our canteens. Just on the other side of the brook we passed
Capron's battery posted on a low hill, the muzzles of the three inch
rifles pointed toward El Caney and the cannoneers at their posts
waiting for the ball to open. By that time we all realized that this
was the day we were to go into business.




CHAPTER XII.

WHEREIN IS RELATED SOME EVENTS WHICH HAPPENED TO US ON JULY FIRST.


Hardly had we passed the battery before we heard the boom of one of
its guns, followed by another and another and we knew then the trouble
had begun. We kept on the trail for a while longer, the men keeping
well closed up now and keeping eyes and ears alert. El Caney was now
replying to Capron and we could hear for the first time the squeal of
the Mauser bullets as they began to go over us with a sound like that
of a vicious cat at bay. We were under fire but hardly realized it as
yet.

It was a splendid morning. Our trail led along the side of what had
once been well cultivated fields, the only indication of that now
being the inevitable barbed wire fencing. The skies were cloudless and
birds sang as we went along to battle. There were other birds too but
they did not sing. Hardly had the first of Capron's cannon sent its
"good morning" salute to El Caney before a speck was visible in the
sky. Larger and larger it grew until we saw it was a buzzard scenting
the battle and before long it was joined by hundreds of its kind, all
circling about in the air only a short distance from the earth and
waiting for the rich feast about to be spread for them. But we recked
not of buzzards or what their presence presaged.

A short distance further along the trail, a quick order and we changed
direction to the right, leaving the trail and going across the field
directly toward El Caney. Barbed wire fencing was in our way but
the two wire cutters attached to each company soon made a gate for
us. Our battalion swung through and into the field while the second
battalion kept to the trail and took the field further along. The third
battalion and I of the second, as we afterwards found, were halted by
Capron's battery and were not given front seats to the performance.
The field soon changed to scrub and bush through which way was made
as best we could without much regard to alignment. Then came a bit of
forest and then we debouched out upon the Santiago road, one of the
few thoroughfares in Cuba that looked like a road. A halt and then we
stripped for action. Rolls and haversacks were taken off and piled by
the road side. The belts and the pockets of the brown canvas coats were
filled with cartridges and we were ready for trouble.

Meanwhile it was evident that there was trouble ahead of the Second.
From El Caney's forts and trenches came a hail of bullets, while on our
right and left there were the Krags of our regulars popping away with
machine like regularity, their whip like sentences being punctuated at
intervals by the 3-inch rifles of Capron's men. Over our heads went
the Mausers in a steady stream and there wasn't a man of the Second
marching up that road that morning who failed to bow his head, (most
of us called it "ducking") in response to their salutation. The 8th
and 22d of our brigade had gone on ahead of us, had deployed to the
left and we could hear their Krags answering the Mausers. It was our
first experience under fire and it is no wonder that nearly all of us
wished ourselves, for just a few moments, somewhere else and remembered
certain pressing engagements we had at Springfield that Friday morning.
But this feeling was like going into a cold bath. The first plunge
is the worst and within half an hour after getting into the action
these same men that were "ducking" their heads to the bullets were up
on the firing line and acting like veterans instead of men who up to
that morning had never faced an armed foe. Our education had progressed
rapidly.

And here a word as to El Caney where Gen. Vara Del Ray and 620 Spanish
troops held Lawton's division at bay from 6.30 in the morning until
4.30 in the afternoon. In the general plan for the day's work of July
1st Lawton's division was to sweep over to Caney, devote an hour or
so to capturing it and then swing over to the San Juan forts and aid
Kent's division to take them. Trustworthy (?) Cuban advices were that
there were only a couple of hundred Spanish troops in El Caney and the
taking of that outpost of Santiago was to be but an incident of our
march to San Juan. But Gen. Del Ray had not been consulted as to this
program and the result was our time schedule went to pieces. An entire
division against 620 men looks like heavy odds in favor of the division
but it must be remembered that the enemy were strongly entrenched with
all the advantage of position and knew the ground thoroughly, while we
were in the open with little or no shelter and with only a four-gun
light battery against stone forts, strong blockhouses and well made
intrenchments, so that our advantage in numbers was more than made up
by the superior position of the enemy.

El Caney lay almost directly in front of us, a small town backed up
against a steep hill as if at bay and with forts, intrenchments and
houses bristling with rifles. To our right on a small elevation was the
famous stone fort over which floated the red and yellow flag of Spain.
A little to the left was the village church, of stone and converted
into a fortress while on either sides of both fort and church were the
familiar Spanish blockhouses. And in front of all were the trenches,
well built and covering all the front and sides of the town, a covered
way connecting some of them with the fort and with their fronts
guarded by fences and entanglements of barbed wire, a protection found
of value against the Cubans, but which proved to be of less efficiency
against the valor of American soldiers. This was what El Caney
presented to us on that bright July morning.

Our brigade's work had been mapped out and appeared to be comparatively
easy. It was to take position on the left of the American line and cut
off the retreat of the enemy towards Santiago when he was driven from
Caney which, as already scheduled, was to be within an hour or so after
the initial shot. But the program for Ludlow's brigade was changed by
force of circumstances, for hardly had the 8th and 22d of our brigade
got into position before they were attacked and replied in kind and
within a few moments the hottest part of the action was taking place
on the left instead of being confined to the right and center, as
originally planned.

And while this was happening we were down the "pike" getting ready to
add our contribution to the din of battle. We were not long in getting
ready and leaving one man from each company to guard the rolls left by
the roadside the seven companies of the Second marched to the firing
line. The first battalion, G, B, K and D companies, was by this time
some distance ahead of the second, while the third was still held up by
the battery. Col. Clark, Lieut. Col. Shumway and Adjutant Hawkins were
standing beneath a huge tree at the intersection of the "sunken" road
with the Santiago road and hardly had the companies come up before an
order came from Gen. Ludlow to send four companies to strengthen the
line of the 22d on our left. B and K companies of the first battalion
and L and E of the second battalion, which had by this time come up,
were detailed and B and K, under command of Major Southmayd started
for the 22d. L and E followed but through some misunderstanding got
into a "hot box" and after a time returned to the sunken road and took
position there.

B and K marched down the sunken road and then across an open space,
across which the bullets were flying in a steady stream. It was
necessary to "duck" here and it was done without any loss of dignity.
This space cleared, the companies came to a bit of bush and then into
a gully facing El Caney on the left. Here was the 22d, lying down and
answering the fire of the Spaniards in good style.

Hardly had B and K reached the gully and taken position when the hail
of bullets began to fall among them and men began to drop. Private
Frank E. Moody of K was one of the first hit and died almost instantly,
the bullet having pierced his heart. On the march of the night before
he had felt a presentiment of his fate and so strong was this feeling
of his fate that he gave his watch to Private Fuller to take home to
his parents. Before long Private John J. Malone of B got a fatal wound
just below the heart and then men began to fall thick and fast. As
soon as the two companies had taken their positions they were ordered
to fire, but the enemy's return for the first few volleys was payment
with compound interest. The smoke from the Springfield rifles showed
the position of our men and lifting slowly, made just the target which
the enemy needed. At this time the line was about 900 yards from
the advanced Spanish trenches and it must have been just like rifle
practice for the enemy. Within a moment after the first volley from
the Springfields crashed out a hail of bullets was poured into the two
companies from the trenches and men fell like sheep. Capt. Warriner,
raising on one shoulder to give an order, sank back with a Mauser
through his body. Corporal Ward Lathrop got one through his head,
Corporal Hoadley got his "in the neck," the bullet going through the
right side, Wagoner Boule had one through his left hand, Private Ashley
of B was hit in the left forearm, Private James F. Ferrier was shot
through the right shoulder and also had a bullet traverse the right
side of his head, making an ugly wound, Howard Meyrick had a double
one, one bullet striking his right leg, while another went through his
left shoulder and the upper part of his left arm. Private C. J. Riordan
got a bullet through his left hand while Private A. E. Rose got the
thumb and one finger of his right hand nipped, Private W. B. Riopel was
hard hit, the bullet entering his left shoulder and entering the lungs.
Barkman of K got a Mauser through his left elbow and was also hit in
the left leg below the knee.

[Illustration:

  Lieut. H. S. Crossman. J.G.
  H. Co.

  Lieut. J. K. Dexter. H. Co.

  Lieut. W. O. Cohn. J.G.
  H. Co.
]

As quickly as possible the wounded were picked up by their comrades
and taken to the rear, a temporary dressing station being established
beneath a huge tree on the Santiago road. The first aid bandages came
in handily on the field and were used to advantage. Lieut. Powers took
command of K and Capt. McDonald, as cool as if battles were everyday
occurrences, kept a watchful eye on his men.

The heavy fire which the powder smoke had drawn upon the two companies
was also being felt by the 22d and its choleric commander, Major Van
Horn, came rushing over with, "For God's sake, Second Massachusetts,
stop firing! You're making us a regular target for the enemy." This was
not all he said, either, but it was stronger language than politeness
required. The firing did stop, that is, the volley firing did, but the
company commanders gave their men orders to fire at will. Soon Major
Van Horn came over with another protest and the two companies moved
along a little further to the right but on the same line as the 22d and
leaving quite a little gap between them. As the 22d advanced so did B
and K, taking advantage of what cover there was and keeping up their
fire for some time. It was perhaps that protest of Major Van Horn that
gave the impression that the entire Second regiment was ordered off
the firing line, an impression that is a very much mistaken one. From
the time the two companies took position on the right of the 22d they
fired at intervals and at will until the Spaniards were driven from the
last trench and El Caney was taken.

While these things were happening on our left G company was having
troubles of its own on the extreme right of the line. Sending B and K
to the 22d left Col. Clark with only G and D companies of the first
battalion with him, the three companies of the second battalion having
been placed in the sunken road, whose banks gave them some protection
from the incessant fire from El Caney. G and D were sent further along
up the Santiago road and G was halted directly in front of a cultivated
field which was directly in front of the trenches and the town and
was flanked by the stone fort. Halting here the second platoon of the
company under Lieut. Edward J. Leyden deployed as skirmishers and
advanced across the field, taking every possible advantage of cover,
of which there was little, and halting at intervals to kneel and
fire. The light brown uniforms advancing slowly across the field soon
attracted the notice of the enemy, even before the first volley from
the Springfields gave the Spaniards a target, and men began to drop.
Still the line advanced until it was within 500 yards of the fort and
then a halt was ordered and the men threw themselves flat on the ground
and began firing at will. Now the bullets from both fort and trenches
were hailing about them but they kept crawling along until within a
range of 400 yards. Then Lieut. Leyden looked around and saw that
his 14 men were isolated from the rest of the company and he at once
realized that it was suicidal to go further without reinforcements.
Arthur Packard, beloved of all his comrades, had fallen dead on the
field with a Spanish bullet through his head and George Richmond,
one of the "old timers" of the company, had fallen fatally wounded.
"Goldie" Bresnan had been ordered to the rear with the blood dripping
from a shattered hand and Ernest Marble, wounded in the head, lay on
the field. Others had in the meantime joined the little force, men from
other companies, but not enough to make a further advance successful.
Among the reinforcements was Lieut. D. J. Moynihan of I company, who
had left his position with the second battalion and walked across the
field to join Leyden's men. He essayed his luck as a sharpshooter,
borrowing a rifle from one of the men, and fired three shots before
he himself sank to the ground with a bullet through his body. Before
this happened, however, and when he first joined Lieut. Leyden, Lieut.
Moynihan advised that the advance should continue and suggested a
charge. But Lieut. Leyden pointed to the few men he had and asked what
the result would be. There was no answer to this. Less than 20 men
charging against a stone fort under a heavy fire from it and flanked
by the trenches would have been heroic, no doubt, but it would have
been deliberately throwing away men's lives and to no good result. So
Lieut. Leyden refused to order a charge but sent Lieut. Moynihan back
to Col. Clark for orders. These were for him to remain where he was
and there the platoon stayed until the town was taken, although some
of the men advanced even closer to the fort, taking advantage of some
small piles of stones, which had evidently been heaped up as shelter
for Spanish outposts. All the long afternoon the little squad lay under
the pitiless sun, firing whenever there was a chance until they heard
the cheers of the charging regulars and saw the red and yellow flag of
Spain go down from the fort and the Stars and Stripes replace it. Then
they sprang to their feet and cheered. But it was not all over then.
The fort had been taken but from trench and blockhouse and church and
every building in El Caney still came the hail of Mausers. The dead and
wounded of the Second were being attended to as best could be done, but
their comrades still fought on. Two guns of Capron's battery had been
moved up to a position in the rear of D company and the balance of G
and were knocking things about in the old town. Gen. Vara Del Ray was
wounded unto death and the American troops were drawing their lines
closer and closer around Caney, but still the Spaniards fought on with
the courage of desperation. At the fork of the roads was Col. Clark,
sending his staff officers, or rather officer, Lieut. Paul R. Hawkins,
hither and thither and giving messages to his orderlies. Lieut.
Hawkins, cool under fire, won a high place in the regard of the men who
saw him that day and the orderlies, including Private Ross of B, showed
coolness and courage. Two other Springfield men, Sergeant Scully and
Corporal Ross of G were pressed into service as orderlies for a time
and did their duty well. Two cool and collected men were Col. Clark
and Lieut. Col. Shumway and both exposed themselves, at times against
the wish of the brigade commander, along the line. Gen. Ludlow was for
some time at the fork of the roads with Col. Clark, his dead horse,
shot under him, almost at the outset of the action, lying near by, but
once he was gone he did not return and neither he nor anyone else in
authority gave the orders to withdraw the Second from the firing line,
as has been stated by some. If any such orders were issued which is
doubtful, they were never received by Col. Clark, and the companies of
the Second stayed throughout the day where he placed them.

Meanwhile the big tree a bit down the road was the scene of some
grewsome work. Soon after the opening of the action Lieut. Hawkins had
been ordered by Col. Clark to bring up the surgeons and the ground
under the big tree was then transformed into a temporary hospital or
rather a dressing station. Here Surgeon Bowen and his assistants,
Lieuts. Gates and Hitchcock, aided by Hospital Stewards Fortier,
Greenberg and Howes and the members of the hospital corps, labored
until the enemy's sharpshooters, discerning the group under the tree,
made it an object of attention and the bullet-torn leaves began to
flutter down upon the wounded. Then the hospital was moved farther down
the road and the dead and dying and wounded conveyed there as tenderly
as possible under the circumstances. It was here the heroic Father
Edwin Fitzgerald, the beloved chaplain of the 22d, labored from morning
until far into the night, caring as tenderly as a mother for the
wounded of all the regiments, making their places as easy as possible
for them, bringing them water from the distant brook, giving the
consolations of religion to all, whether of his creed or not. More than
once he visited the firing line and aided in bringing some poor fellow
down to the hospital. Danger he cared not for and he went on with his
work apparently oblivious to his bullet-torn coat, two holes in which
bore eloquent witness to narrow escapes. On that day Father Fitzgerald
earned the lifelong affection of the officers and men of the Second.

And so time wore on until between 4.30 and 5 in the afternoon, when
ringing cheers announced that the last trench had been won and El Caney
was ours. Then followed the reunion of the regiment. Lieut. Leyden
marched his gallant platoon back and the men fell into their old places
in G company. B and K came back from the left with the 22d and the
regiment gathered once more on the Santiago road, soldiers now, stained
with powder and battle smoke and grim with the thoughts of the day and
its events. Further down the road in the improvised hospital lay the
forms, cold in death, of five brave men and with them were 40 more or
less seriously wounded, three of them mortally.

The Second had received its baptism of blood.




CHAPTER XIII.

WE LEARN SOME MORE THINGS ABOUT THE ART OF WAR AS CONDUCTED IN THESE
DAYS.


It was not exactly a joyous reunion as the companies assembled in the
Santiago road that afternoon. True, we were all glad to see one another
again, but the heat and burden of the day had been great and there were
many faces missing from the ranks. Nearly ten hours on the battlefield
under the burning Cuban sun and without much to comfort us in the way
of food or drink was not conducive to good temper and to this was added
the spur of the ingratitude of our so-called Cuban allies. It will be
remembered that just before the regiment went into action the rolls and
haversacks had been discarded and placed by the roadside and it fell
out that while the owners were up on the firing line fighting for _Cuba
Libre_, some of the Cuban patriots came along and, the guards placed
over the property being absent, helped themselves to the rations in
the haversacks. These were the Cubans, by the way, who were supposed
to be fighting over on our left that day, but it seems they had more
important business, to them, on hand to bother much about fighting. So
as we gathered there in the road in the stillness which followed the
battle storm and realized that we were to go supperless there were some
things said about our Cuban friends which indicated a not very high
feeling of esteem for them.

Once gathered together again and the roll called came the after work
of the battle. Squads were sent over the field to bring in any dead or
wounded that might have been overlooked and to gather up any property
left there. The companies which had lost men prepared to march to the
hospital to bury the dead and those fortunate ones whose haversacks
had been untouched began to light their cooking fires. Hardly an hour
had elapsed since Caney was taken when up came an aide with orders for
Col. Clark and when he read them the assembly sounded and we heard with
disgust the orders that the regiment was to move at once to San Juan to
reinforce the first division. We had anticipated after our hard day's
work a bite to eat and a night's rest and here we were disappointed in
both. Faintly through that day at intervals we at Caney could hear the
sounds of battle in our rear and we heard late in the afternoon that
it was our troops attacking the San Juan forts but it was not until
after we had finished our job at El Caney that we heard what the first
division had done.

But orders are orders and grumbling does not count against them. The
details sent to dig graves were recalled, the equipments were donned
again and in a short time we were once more "piking the pike." It was a
gloomy march that evening, for the men were not very much inclined to
conversation. On we went, now in columns of fours on a fairly decent
road for Cuba, again in column of files through the bush and finally
emerged onto another road. It was now dark, but we kept on until about
10 o'clock we came to a stone bridge over the San Juan river and the
order to halt was given as the head of our regiment reached the bridge.
Whether it was to be a mere halt or a bivouac no one seemed to know
and no one cared. Hardly had the order to halt been given before the
men had dropped by the roadside and, worn out by the toilsome march
of the night before and the day's work, followed by the march to the
bridge, were asleep, many of them without even taking off their heavy
rolls. It was not an ideal place for slumber, either. Troops were
continually passing by and every now and then a mule team would pass
with a clatter but the sleepers slumbered on. Until after midnight we
lay there, waiting for further orders. About one o'clock up came mule
wagons and a pack train and soon after the men were awakened and told
to "hurry up" and get rations. In a few moments the scene was changed.
Huge fires were lighted and by their light the rations were given out,
the delights of slumber proving to be less strong than the desire to
eat and every man awakening to the knowledge that we would soon be on
the move again. So it was. Hardly had we drawn rations and began to
cook them before a battery of artillery moved hurriedly by us to the
rear, many of us just having time to draw our legs out of the way of
the wheels. Next came the 8th and 22d of our brigade and by 2 o'clock
we too were on the march. Following the road over which we had come for
a short distance, we soon left it and changing direction to the right,
swung into a trail across country. Along this we marched for hours amid
the darkness, through woods and chaparral and fields, once cultivated.
We climbed hills and forded streams, all in the darkness, we brushed
the morning mist from the trees and grass as we passed, and when the
dawn came found ourselves still on the march, wet and tired and sleepy
and bedraggled. Daylight made no difference. On we pressed, climbing a
long hill, crowned with plantation buildings and from which we could
look down upon a scene of beauty, the green-clad hills and mountains,
their tops still wreathed in the morning mist and with no sign that
aught but peace and happiness lay in the valleys between them. No time,
however, this to enjoy scenery, no matter how picturesque. On we went,
now down the hill and into a thick piece of woods, where we halted
for a little time, then on again until we once more struck a road and
reached El Pozo, where there had been considerable trouble the day
before. Without waiting for us the quadrille had already opened. During
our halt in the woods we could hear the artillery and the rifles and
soon after we reached the El Pozo road and once more swinging to the
right started for San Juan we realized that it might be a case of
El Caney over again, for we encountered a steady stream of wounded
men going or being carried to the rear. Down the road screeched the
Mausers, but still high over our heads and in the distance we could
hear the boom of the guns of the Spanish forts as they answered our
light artillery. Still onward, with no band or field music to give us
the cadenced step, a minute's halt now and then until we were compelled
to leave the road to make way for a battery banging recklessly along
to take another position. Then across a stream and over an open
field in full view of the enemy's trenches on the right, passing the
battleground of the day before and, under fire by this time, we swung
once more to the right and took position on a hill on nearly the
extreme right of the American line.

[Illustration:

  Private R. G. Kelly.
  G. Co.

  Private Arthur Packard.
  G. Co.

  Private Geo. A. Richmond.
  G. Co.

  Private Andrew Little.
  G. Co.

  Private Francis A. Burk.
  G. Co.

  Corpl P. J. Noone.
  G. Co.
]

Rolls had been again stripped off and it was expected we would go into
action, but the Spaniards had been given pretty nearly all the fight
they wanted that day and there was little for the Second to do but to
take its position and stay there. For hours the men lay on the hill
crest under the blazing sun, without a chance at cooking a meal and
hard pressed for water until details were sent back to the stream with
canteens. Sharpshooters made this mission dangerous but no one refused
to go.

It was not until early in the evening that the firing died down and it
was safe to stand erect and walk about. The rolls and haversacks had
been brought up and having been better guarded from prowling Cubans
this time the contents of the haversacks were intact. By the time
darkness came on the hillside on which we were camped for the day,
tents had by this time been put up, was illuminated by the cooking
fires and once more we enjoyed something that would pass for a meal.
This over, sleep was the next necessity and we were not long in seeking
our downy couches.

But we did not slumber long. Just about 10 o'clock there was a
disturbance of the peace by the Spaniards, who apparently wished to
spoil the good time we were having. Three or four big guns boomed out
and then came the, by this time familiar sound of the Mausers. It
needed no bell boy to awake us. In a jiffy we were up and scrambling
for rifles and cartridge belts. Then came quickly spoken orders to
"fall in" from the company commanders and the voices of the hurrying
non-coms as they rounded up the men. All was black darkness and men
stumbled over the grass and roots or slipped on the steep hillside. It
was a scene of the utmost din and confusion, orders coming fast and
loud, the men, still sleep-blinded, hustling about in confusion, the
night's stillness broken by the crash of the Spanish rifles and the
noise of exploding shells over our heads while on our right we heard
the whip-like crack of the Krags answering the Mausers. "Hell's broken
loose," avowed a B man as he groped about for his cartridge belt and
indeed it seemed so.

Our battalion had its "shacks" on the top of the hill just below the
crest while the other companies were scattered all along the hill but
further below, so that the men of the Springfield companies were not
long in falling in and making their way to the crest. But even then
they were not quick enough to satisfy Major Van Horn, the choleric
commander of the 22d, who appeared to have as bad a case of what was
known to the boys as the "rattles" as any man ever had. Brandishing his
sword, he ran about the hill, cursing the Second and ordering every man
to the front, although it would have seemed he had enough to do to look
after his own outfit. Col. Clark and his officers and the regiment were
already on the top of the hill and awaiting events, but for some time
Major Van Horn pranced and reared and vented his spleen upon the few
men who happened to be a bit slow about getting up until finally his
senses returned and he went where he belonged.

All in all our officers and men acted with coolness, considering the
circumstances. It is not pleasant or conducive to coolness of thought
or action to be suddenly pulled out of bed after a day of great
exertion and hustle around in black darkness to the accompaniment
of rifle bullets and bombshells and especially when it is uncertain
whether the enemy is in one's front, flank or rear and go stumbling up
a steep hill so that it is small wonder if at the outset a few were
"rattled." But in a very short time the lines were formed on the top of
the hill and the Second waited.

It was fortunate that none of our officers lost their heads and
ordered their men to fire for the results could not fail to have been
unfortunate all around. Just below us were three of our own regiments
and had the Second fired the bullets would have hit our own men. It was
a wonder that in the darkness and confusion nothing of the kind was
done but officers and men kept their heads well and after the first
confused rush up the hill all acted with commendable coolness.

But if we did not use our rifles the enemy did theirs and before the
affair was over two men of the Second had been hit, one of them,
Private Robert G. Kelly of G, mortally. A Mauser struck him in the left
cheek, passing through and severing the lingual artery, lodged in the
muscles of the right jaw. The other man hit was Private Peter N. White
of A company, whose wound was not serious.

Poor Kelly was taken to his tent, where he lay in agony all night, the
surgeons and hospital stewards doing all they could to relieve him. The
next morning he was taken to the division hospital near Siboney where
he lingered until July 7th, when he died. There was a story, which has
never been denied, that his death was caused by internal hemorrhage
caused by the imperfect manner in which his wound was cared for in the
hospital.

The affair lasted about an hour and when the attacking force of
Spaniards had been pretty well cut to pieces the enemy retired within
his lines once more and the Second returned to its slumbers. At 3 A. M.
there was some more firing but this was merely an affair of outposts
and lasted but a few moments, just long enough to break up sleep for
the second time that night.

Next day was Sunday, but it could hardly be called a peaceful one. From
daybreak to early in the afternoon the sharpshooters of the enemy were
active and a man had to walk humbly and keep well under cover unless
he cared to make a target of himself. Many of these sharpshooters were
inside our lines, not having had an opportunity to get to their own
when their companions were driven back and hidden in thick foliaged
trees and supplied with rations and water and plenty of ammunition they
managed to make matters rather lively for us. Early in the day many
squads were sent out to locate and capture these fellows but though
many were located few were brought in as prisoners.

Time wore on slowly that Sunday. About noon orders were promulgated
that an armistice had been declared and that firing on both sides was
to cease at 12 o'clock. This was not bad news but evidently all our
Spanish friends did not hear of it until later, for up to 2 o'clock
there was an occasional bullet sent toward us from the outlying
trenches. After that hour it was possible to walk about without having
to dodge.

Early that morning we heard the distance-dulled boom of heavy guns
from the direction of the mouth of the harbor. We knew that Sampson
and Schley were outside waiting for Cervera and his ships but we had
heard the guns of our fleet so often that we supposed it was simply
another case of throwing a few shot at the Morro or the other Spanish
batteries. Gradually the roar of the guns grew fainter and fainter
until they died away altogether and it was supposed the attack of
the fleet had again been fruitless. But soon after noon the "JoJo"
department got at work again and rumors began to circulate that this
time the fleet had been successful and had forced its way past the
batteries and into the harbor.

It was not until soon after 4 o'clock that afternoon, however, that we
learned what had happened. Then we saw Major Webb of Shafter's staff
riding up to our brigade headquarters, which were only a few yards away
from Col. Clark's "shack." The major reined up, said a few words to
Gen. Ludlow and the latter hastily summoned the regimental commanders
and announced that the Spanish fleet had tried to cut its way out of
the harbor and had been met by Schley's ships and destroyed. It did
not take long for the good news to spread and then such cheering as
went up. Hats went up into the air and there was general jubilation.
For once the "JoJo" department had been outdone. All along our line we
could hear the cheering and then what few regimental bands we had broke
loose and gave a jubilee concert which was highly appreciated. We had
no religious services that day but the bands played, "There'll be a hot
time in Old Town to-night."

Discipline was relaxed after the armistice had been declared and the
men wandered along the lines, visiting other regiments and going over
the battlegrounds of the two days previous. Many visited the outposts
and took a look at the city and the forts. We could see the Spaniards
taking life easy in their trenches and we wondered if they had heard
what had happened to their fleet. Some of our boys, disgusted with
their Springfields, went "grafting" Krags and picked up a good number,
together with plenty of ammunition. Had the entire regiment been turned
loose there is no question but what every man would have replaced
his Springfield with a Krag-Jorgensen and as it was nearly 150 were
obtained and a corresponding number of Springfields thrown away.

Our sleep was unbroken that night and we were ready to celebrate
July 4th the next morning. Our celebration took the form of a little
excursion, for soon after our frugal breakfast we were on the march
again and began our celebrated swing to the right with the object of
encircling the city. Our brigade led the advance as it had from the
start and after four hours of slow progress we swung to the left and
took our position on the now famous "Misery hill," an elevation in rear
of the city and overlooking it. From the crest we could plainly see the
Spanish batteries and barracks, while almost directly in front of us
were the hospital buildings with half a dozen Red Cross flags flying
over them. We passed our Fourth of July quietly enough. Not a fire
cracker was fired, principally because we did not have any and there
was not even a rifle crack to mark the day. Late in the afternoon we
heard the guns of the fleet again as they hammered away at the harbor
batteries for awhile. We pitched our "day tents" and took notice of the
fact that our rations were getting low again. Next day we were put at
work for the first time digging trenches and we enjoyed the job. For
tools there were in the entire regiment only a few shovels and picks
but the trenches had to be dug and the boys went at it with their mess
knives, spoons and tin plates. It was fierce work under the blazing
sun and the soil was hard to dig, but the work was done by reliefs and
by night of the next day the trenches of our battalion were completed
and good ones they were, too. They were dug on the crest of the hill
and were deep enough with the earth parapet to give us protection from
anything the enemy might send over at us. They were wide enough to
enable the men to move about and the earth was cut away at the rear so
as to make a sort of seat. More trouble was anticipated at any moment
and ammunition in plenty was placed along the trenches. In fact, there
was more ammunition than rations about all the time during the campaign.

Capron's battery, which was with us at El Caney, came up the 6th and
took a position on the left of our line of trenches. The digging of
intrenchments for this battery afforded us our first opportunity of
seeing Cubans work and certainly they did work under Capt. Capron.
Other regiments kept coming up and taking positions on our left and the
circle about Santiago began to tighten.

Meanwhile we had leisure to lie about and figure up our losses. Malone
of B, shot at El Caney, had died in the field hospital the evening of
July 2d and his death came as a shock to his friends in that company.
Richmond of G died in the same hospital early the preceding evening and
that made five good men in the three Springfield companies slain by
Spanish bullets. There were many missing faces from the ranks, too, and
we kept hearing rumors that this or that man wounded at Caney had died
in the hospital. Besides we knew some exaggerated stories about the
losses of the Second had gone home and we knew the anxiety which our
friends and relatives in Springfield must be feeling.

There were other losses aside from the bullets of the enemy. On July
6th Major Southmayd and Capt. McDonald left camp, the former going
home on sick leave and the latter having injured himself badly in the
spine. He was accompanied to the hospital by First Sergeant Burke,
who remained with him until he sailed for the United States. In Capt.
McDonald's absence First Lieut. W. L. Young took command of B company.
Capt. John J. Leonard of G was made acting major of Major Southmayd's
battalion and retained the command to the close of the campaign. The
command of K company devolved upon First Lieut. Phillip C. Powers and
First Lieut. W. C. Hayes took command of G company.

About this time many of our boys got "next" to a species of poison vine
somewhat resembling the poison ivy of New England and with about the
same results. The surgeons could find nothing to counteract the effects
of the vine until a Cuban told them of another plant which being
steeped was an effective antidote for the poison and a free use of this
soon restored the swollen faces and hands of the sufferers to their
normal condition.

"Misery hill" was a delightful place especially when the rations began
to get shy as they did soon after our arrival. The visits of the pack
train were few and far between and it was just as likely as not to
bring ammunition instead of rations. Issues of one or two hardtack
and a thin slice of bacon for a twenty-four hours ration were common,
and some of the boys supplemented their menu with mangoes and "monkey
plumes." Sergeant Lovely of G enjoyed the distinction of eating
twenty-four mangoes in one day, much to the horror of the surgeons when
they heard of it, but with no bad results to him.

It was while we were on "Misery hill" that "Dido" Hunt achieved added
fame by his abilities as a butcher. Gen. Ludlow had a desire for
beefsteak and had purchased a hungry looking cow from some Cubans,
Private Hunt as regimental butcher, being detailed to kill the animal.
It was just before dusk, one evening, when the cow was led forth to
the slaughter and "Dido," armed with a revolver, got ready to act as
executioner. He fired again and again at the cow, the animal after each
shot, looking about in a surprised manner as if wondering what the
racket was all about. Finally one of the bullets hit the cow somewhere,
and with a bellow of pain and fright, she ran off and disappeared in
the darkness, leaving Private Hunt and the man who had been holding
the rope gazing at each other. Gen. Ludlow had no steak that evening
and the fate of the cow was never learned although there were rumors
that the animal had ended her career in the camp of one of the regular
regiments, the men of which had a fresh meat supper that night.

A "commissary" had been established near Siboney by some enterprising
sutlers, and the company officers were enabled to purchase some tea,
oatmeal, etc., for their men. These were especially valuable, as
several had succumbed to the climate and the toil and exposure of the
campaign, and the hardtack and bacon were not the best kind of food
for them. About this time, too, we were threatened with an outbreak of
measles, but the cases were promptly isolated and the disease did not
spread.




CHAPTER XIV.

WE CONTINUE OUR EDUCATION IN THE ART OF WAR AND LEARN A FEW THINGS.


Our stay on "Misery hill" lasted just seven days and in that time we
learned a few things, the art of trench digging without intrenching
tools, standing out in our memory as one most important lesson. We
learned how to sleep on a side hill without our bodies slipping
entirely out from the shelter tents during our slumbers, this being
accomplished by the simple means of driving a couple of pegs into the
ground at the opening of the tent and placing a stick against them, our
feet resting against the stick and preventing us going any further.
We acquired the art of making cigarettes and of using anything at all
in the paper line to roll them in. The inner pith of the royal palm
came in handily for this purpose when our supply of cigarette paper
gave out. We learned how to make one match light several pipes or
cigarettes, for matches were scarce and therefore not to be wasted.
We learned how to make the brook water passably cool in our canteens,
by thoroughly soaking the canvass covering of the canteen and then
suspending it from a tree or tent pole, the evaporation of the moisture
of the cover slowly cooling the contents. At night the canteens were
hung from the tent poles and in the morning the water was usually quite
cool. Later on long branches of bamboo were used as water vessels and
one trip to the brook usually sufficed for the day. In the building of
"shacks" by which the regulars who had served in the west designated
about everything in the way of a shelter from the sun or rain, we
obtained lessons from our friends of the 8th and 22d. A couple of
crotched sticks across which was laid a center pole formed the usual
frame work of the structure and the roof and sides were composed of
bushes or palm leaves. These were more airy than our tents and more
comfortable except when it rained heavily.

Also, we learned to do without stockings, the fact being that the
bulk of our hosiery was either worn out or thrown away, and we took a
card from the regulars and discarded such things in the line thereof,
greasing our feet with the luscious "sow belly." In laundry work we
became expert. "Jim" Ryan's steam laundry had long since gone into
voluntary bankruptcy, and every man was his own laundryman. Insect
enemies began to appear, and obtained a lodgment in spite of strenuous
efforts. Soap was scarce and there were times when water was not the
easiest thing in the world to get. Our sleeping arrangements were
primitive, the usual method of arranging them being to place the rubber
blanket on the ground with the coated side down, on this place the
woolen blanket and wrapping this about us, go to sleep. Our coats, or
shoes, or anything else suitable, being utilized for pillows. While on
"Misery hill" many of the boys cut grass and utilized it as mattresses,
but we could not do this on our short bivouacs.

As to cooking, we were "stars." That is when there was anything to
cook. On these occasions our culinary preparations were delightfully
simple and even chafing-dish outfits would have to bow to our superior
ingenuity. Our cooking apparatus required a small fire of wood, and
the utensils were all carried in our haversacks. They were a combined
frying pan and plate of tin, the former having a handle, a sharp
pointed knife, fork and spoon. The basis of our menu was especially
noticeable for its simplicity, the staples being bacon, hardtack,
canned tomatoes and coffee. Sometimes we had sugar and more times we
didn't. Occasionally we had a bit of salt or pepper and on these rare
occasions there was joy, for then we were enabled to make the stuff
labelled "canned roast beef" palatable enough so that it could be
forced down our throats. At other times, Ugh! If the devil hasn't a
special corner in the hot room of his Turkish bath reserved for those
responsible for that "canned roast beef," he isn't "onto his job."

Even with such simple means we managed to vary the menus a bit at
times. Our usual breakfast was bacon and hardtack and coffee. The bacon
was usually without a bit of lean and after frying for a moment or two
the pan was about half-filled with fat, leaving a shrivelled up and
brittle piece of so-called bacon. But it was eaten just the same, our
stomachs having been educated up to anything. Sometimes we fried our
hardtack in the bacon grease and these with black coffee, sometimes
without sugar, made up our breakfast. Thanks to a beneficent government
we had coffee about all the time, if we had nothing else. It came to
us in the berry, in paper packages, and our chief concern as to coffee
was how to grind or pulverize it. Usually this was done by the simple
but slow process of putting a few berries in our tin cups and pounding
them with a stick or tent pole until they were broken enough to steep.
Then the cup was filled with water and placed in the fire until the
coffee boiled when the cup was taken out by means of a cleft stick
or a bayonet and laid aside to cool sufficiently to drink. There was
plenty of barbed wire everywhere and by means of the wire cutters rude
grates were made on which the tin cup was placed. For dinner the bill
of fare and the method of preparing it was about the same, likewise
for supper. Sometimes, when we had canned tomatoes we made "sludge," a
simple confection of tomatoes and broken hardtack, with at times a few
"strings" of the corned beef thrown in to give it, not taste, but more
body. This "beef" was also used to form the groundwork for an imitation
stew, the only resemblance to stew being the name, for it was without
onions or potatoes. Then we made "Santiago sludge cakes," composed of
pulverized hardtack and water, the mixture being patted into cakes and
fried in bacon grease. Sometimes a bit of sugar was sprinkled over
them, and we deluded ourselves into the belief that we were eating
something very fine. Another method of preparing this delicacy was to
mix in some canned tomato. Mango stew we had at times, but not often,
as sugar was scarce.

Gout might fairly have been expected as the result of this high
living, (we were camped on a hill,) but, strange to say, no cases were
reported, and even dyspepsia was unknown. Our regular hours doubtless
aided us in keeping off these two diseases. We were aroused by reveille
very early in the morning, usually about dawn and retired early in the
evening. It grew dark about 8 o'clock and by that time everyone but the
sentries was in quarters and usually asleep.

The personal appearance of our officers and men was not as
prepossessing as it might have been. Coats and collars were not _de
rigeur_ and the only headgear was very "bum" looking campaign hats.
Usually our blue shirts were open at the neck and a blue handkerchief
carelessly knotted _a la_ cow boy was our only ornament. Suspenders
were viewed with suspicion and the cartridge belts, with their thimbles
filled with ammunition, served also the purpose of keeping our trousers
up. These trousers were showing the wear and tear of the campaign, and
needed pressing badly, being also used for pajamas. Our leggings were
mostly torn and frayed, and went well with the trousers so far as looks
were concerned, as for shoes, they too had seen better days. Barbers
were at a discount and full beards were popular, the most noticeable
ones in the three Springfield companies being those of Lieuts. Powers
and Parkhurst of K, and Sergeants Scully and Murphy of G, although
Gardella's was not far behind.

In K "Bert" Nichols and "Ad" Potter had trained down so fine that
their bodies failed to cast a shadow, and "Billy" Fish had got down to
less than 200 pounds. The beard possessed by Morris Grenowitz of B was
nearly all that remained of him and Jack Fulton was travelling in the
same road. Alberts of B was having a good time with the horses and the
Chaplain, and in K the Turner brothers were having hourly arguments
with each other on the relative nutritious qualities of canned roast
and corned beef. "Wap" Packard of G was busy figuring how many men
were by his brother's side when he was shot, and had already counted
up 35 with several more districts to hear from, and "Jim" Shene of the
same company was planning foraging expeditions with Private Mahoney
of Mittineague. "Batty" Hayes had secured a divorce from "Marguerite"
Gelinas and was busy trying to keep the case out of the papers.

So the days passed on "Misery hill" until noon of the 10th, when we
were ordered to move on, once more to the right, and we left our fine
trenches only to have them occupied by the 71st New York, the "heroes"
of San Juan. We halted after a couple of hours, there being some
trenches dug by Garcia's Cubans, and occupied them at 4 o'clock when
our batteries opened upon Santiago. The affair lasted until 6, but the
enemy's reply was not very loud and we did not get a chance to use our
Springfields.

Next morning we were on the march again, and this time it lasted about
all day, up hill and down hill, until just before dusk we halted for
the night with the right of our brigade resting on the Cobre road, thus
cutting off the last avenue of escape from the city for the Spaniards,
and the only way by which reinforcements from Holguin or the rest of
the province could be put into the city. Rumors that a large Spanish
force was on the way, made us vigilant and our guards were instructed
to keep the sharpest kind of a watch, but as events proved, it was not
necessary. Hardly had the boys got their tents up and their supper
cooked, before the mail came up, and such a rush as there was for it.
We had received one mail from home while on "Misery hill," and every
man who failed to receive a letter then, was certain there was one or
more for him now and could hardly wait to have the contents of the
sacks distributed.

That night we had to take off our hats to the Cuban rain storm. Hardly
had the mail been distributed when it began to rain. Up to this what
rain there was had usually fallen in the afternoon and was not of
long duration, but the rain of July 11th and 12th will be remembered
by every one in the Fifth Army Corps. It came down all night in solid
sheets and our shelter tents and rubber blankets were of little use
against it. When morning came everybody and everything was drenched,
and a more forlorn looking outfit can hardly be imagined. About 6 A.
M., the rain ceased for an hour or two and as soon as possible huge
fires of bamboo were blazing and the men essayed to dry themselves and
their clothing and to cook breakfast. Fortunately there was plenty of
bamboo near our camp, and the wood burned as well wet as dry. But it
was not long before down came the rain again just as bad as during the
night, and to add to our discomfort, came orders to pack up and move on
again.

Rolling up our saturated tents and blankets, and wet to the skin, we
took up the march and after wading through the deep mud of the Cobre
road for a short distance, plunged into a trail which would take us to
our new position and our last camp in Cuba. But it was not long before
we found that the trail led through a piece of swampy ground, and
before they had gone far the boys found themselves up to their legging
tops in mud and the ooze of the swamp. It took a long time to flounder
along through this, but it was finally done and the regiment emerged
upon firm ground, and was soon on the spot selected for its occupancy.

All this time the rain kept on, and it was not until nearly 4 P. M.,
that it ceased and the sun came out. Meanwhile, the well soaked shelter
tents had been put up and the men were either huddled under them and
saying things about the wet season and Cuba, or were standing about
with their rubber blankets thrown over their heads. But with the
coming of the sun there was a great change. Its rays were so fierce
that within half an hour there was scarcely any indication that it had
been raining all night and all day, the ground dried up rapidly and so
did the shelter tents. Off came the rubber blankets from the men, and
clothing and equipments were spread out to dry in the afternoon sun.
Wood was hustled for and with the blaze of the cooking fires and the
smell of bacon and coffee cheerfulness returned.

That evening the boys were put at work again digging trenches. Up to
this Gen. Toral had hesitated to respond to Shafter's invitation to
come out and surrender and the arrival of Gen. Miles having stiffened
up the latter gentleman's backbone, some more trouble was looked for.
Our brigade was, as usual, on the extreme right of the American line
and the 8th regiment lay directly opposite the head of the harbor,
the 22d next and then "ours." Right in front of our center and less
than 500 yards away was the bull ring of Santiago, a circular wooden
building filled with Spanish soldiers, while in front of that we could
see the trenches with the soldiers lounging about, and with a glass
could discern the barbed wire fencing and entanglements in front of the
trenches. Our position was an exposed one, for from their position the
enemy could have raked us front and flank, so at the trenches we went
under the direction of Major Whipple.

[Illustration:

  Private Paul Vesper, B. Co.

  Private John J. Malone, B. Co.

  Sergeant Richard H. Bearse, B. Co.
]

By this time our regiment had been supplied with a fairly decent number
of intrenching tools and the boys, appreciating the necessity for
trenches, went at the work with but little grumbling. The trenches
were dug on three sides of a square, one in front of each battalion,
the work being done by each company in relays. Major Whipple's
battalion now had the right, Major Fairbanks' the center and ours
the left, so that it was in the rear of the other two. The work was
continued to a late hour that night, and all the next day, and finished
on the morning of the 14th. The trenches were even better than those
dug on "Misery hill" and were complimented by Gen. Ludlow, who was a
colonel of engineers before he became a general of volunteers. Not
to be behind hand the non-commissioned staff of the regiment and the
headquarters attaches dug a trench for themselves and the regiment was
ready for the next move.

Twelve o'clock at noon of the 24th was the hour set for the ending
of the truce, and at 11.30 A. M. we were ordered into the trenches.
Everyone felt there was going to be a hard fight this time, for it was
considered certain that the enemy would make a determined resistance
and our estimate of Spanish valor had gone up many degrees since El
Caney. It was known that an assault by the Americans was to follow
the bombardment and those who had noted the enemy's preparations for
defense knew that we were in for a warm reception and that if we
charged up to the barbed wire entanglements and the trenches many would
not return. But that made little difference and we took our position
in the trenches and waited for the opening gun from Capron's battery,
posted on a hill in our rear. The horses and the Chaplain had gone to
the rear and the surgeons and hospital corps were posted in readiness
for what might happen. Hardly had we got into the trenches when the
buzzards began to gather, and this to us was a certain indication of a
battle.

Noon came and the white flag of truce still waved from the governor's
palace and the signal gun was not fired. Half after 12 and no change.
We wondered what was up. Nothing much could be seen from the trenches
and nearly all of the boys climbed to the top and sat down with eager
eyes fastened upon the city we were going to capture. One o'clock and
the white flag still floated. Now came the "Jo Jo" department to the
front once again, and the news ran from trench to trench, that Shafter
had postponed the assault and given the Spaniards a few days more
in which to make up their mind. Following this came the information
that Gen. Toral was merely trying to gain time in order that 10,000
Spanish troops which were coming up, might attack us in the rear while
Toral's men sallied out in our front. And then down came the rain in
large and continuous sheets, soon flooding the trenches and making us
forget the impending battle, "Jo Jo's," and everything else but the
necessity of keeping as dry as possible. The rain lasted for an hour
and a half, filling our lovely trenches with water and putting them in
nice shape for a battle. But hardly had the sun reappeared before we
saw a horseman clad in the Khaki uniform of Shafter's staff galloping
along the lines toward us and in his wake we saw the hats of the men in
the trenches being thrown into the air, and the wearers dancing as if
some extra good news had come. Reining up in front of the center trench
where Col. Clark was, the horseman gave him the welcome news that the
city had surrendered, and as the constantly increasing knot of officers
and men who had got within earshot, began to get ready for a vocal
demonstration, the aide added, "Orders are not to cheer, boys, for the
deal isn't quite fixed up, but you can throw your hats into the air all
you wish." Well, the boys, followed instructions and the hats went up,
while the aide dashed over to the 8th and 22d with the news.

And it was good news. It meant no more trench digging, no more
marching, no more fighting, and last but not least, as some of our long
headed and practical ones figured it out, it meant more and varied
rations, for now our ships could come into the harbor. The trenches
were quickly emptied and we returned to our shacks in pretty good
spirits.

It was not until three days after, on Sunday the 17th, that the formal
surrender took place. The troops were assembled in front of their
trenches, and as the gun announcing the hoisting of our flag over the
governor's palace, boomed out, we cheered, and then marched back only
to be formed in front of Col. Clark's quarters, where certain men
were given a "wigging" which they remembered for a long time. Since
the 14th our men had been allowed to go freely outside our lines, and
although not permitted to go into the city proper, yet they found
some interesting things in the suburbs. One of these was the cemetery
and some regulars and a number of Second men had gone there and
thoughtlessly taken some flowers and trinkets from some graves. This
desecration had been reported by the Spaniards to Gen. Shafter and the
latter "wigged" Gen. Lawton about it, Lawton repeating the operation
to Gen. Ludlow and the latter giving Col. Clark and the commanding
officer of the 22d a bad quarter of an hour. So when it came his turn,
Col. Clark let himself out on the men, and his remarks were of the keen
and cutting style which makes a man feel good when he hears some other
fellow getting them. This concluded the exercises of the day and we
were dismissed to think it over.

Next day the "Jo Jo" bureau resumed operations and we heard "on the
best of authority," of course, that we were to be hustled on to Porto
Rico with Gen. Miles. Next came the news that our brigade, having done
so well was to be sent against Holguin in the interior of the province
where there were some 8000 Spanish troops, who had been surrendered
with those in Santiago but did not like it and proposed to fight.
Within the next few days it was gravely announced by the "Jo Jo,"
that we were going to be sent to the Philippines, as experienced and
acclimated troops were wanted there; that we were to be sent to help
capture Havana, marching from Santiago for that purpose, and best of
all, that unless Spain sued for peace within a week, we were to embark
for that country and invade it. As to the "Jo Jos" about double pay,
the receipt by each man of a lump sum of money in consideration of
waiving our claims to a pension, etc., they were numerous and varied
enough to fill a large book. In its "Jo Jo" bureau the Second had some
distinguished artists.

But the most convincing sign of all that the city had surrendered, was
the arrival of rations, and they were gladly received. For a day or
two it was the familiar bacon and hardtack, but soon we were surprised
and gladdened by the sound of mule wagons coming up the road from the
city and laden with good looking loaves of soft bread. We then found
that army ovens had been established in the city and that we would
have bread in abundance. Next came some refrigerated beef, and it
looked good and tasted better. Our first issue of the beef was quickly
disposed of, each man's share being taken to the nearest fire and a
"bluff" made at broiling it, the majority of the men being too "meat
hungry" to do more than merely toast it. That first "beefsteak supper"
of ours on the island is remembered yet. Next day came more beef, more
bread and finally potatoes and onions, while with them were brought
along rice and canned tomatoes and bacon and hardtack. The two latter
we scorned. Eat hardtack and canned beef when we had fresh bread and
meat and the materials for beef stew? Well, we guessed not. But it
turned out we were too proud. There came days when the refrigerated
beef became less relished, especially when our noses could learn of its
being on the way long before it reached the camp, and we were glad to
fall back on the despised, "sowbelly," and by this time in deference
to our luxurious tastes, the conscience stricken commissary department
was sending us something that resembled bacon far more than anything we
had previously had, and that came in nice tin packages. Even the soft
bread palled on us after a while, and we were glad to nibble a hardtack
now and then, especially, when as sometimes happened the bread was sour.

A few days after the surrender, B company was gladdened by the arrival
of its cook, Walter Butler, who had remained on the ship and who,
on his arrival, took charge of the culinary department and began to
concoct some excellent stews. The Buzzicot field-cooking outfits, which
we had brought from Massachusetts with us, were also landed, and that
of G was at once set up with Private Carl Mueller as cook and Corporal
"Nat" Gardella and "Dido" Hunt as steward and assistant steward, and
"Daniel" Bellamy, the well-known temperance orator, as chief of the
wood and water department. Private Fisher, the company cook of K, was
ill, and K's Buzzicot was but little used.

The day after our arrival in this camp, Private Bates of K severely
injured his foot while chopping wood, the axe slipping and severing one
of the arteries. He was laid up for some days.

G and K moved their camps to the other side of the trenches about the
20th, but B remained where it was. The wall tents which we brought
with us from South Framingham and used at Lakeland and Tampa, also
came up, and at once took the place of the "pup tents" we had used
on the island. Our knapsacks and other property which we left on the
Knickerbocker were also sent to us and we found that some of our things
were left, although many knapsacks which had been left well filled, on
the boat, had been "touched."

Once again we began to have the same old shortage of rations, and
this time with our ships in the harbor 

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