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 we couldn't understand it.
One day we received two hardtack and a spoonful of coffee berries
for a twenty-four hours issue. We were out of fresh meat, sugar and
everything else, but this only lasted a couple of days and then we got
fresh meat, vegetables and beans.