TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

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.]

[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 opera-
tions 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.