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.