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.