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.