A small portion of the forward deck was allotted to the batteries to be used as a messhall, lounging apartment, etc. It was here the battle-scarred veterans collected at meal times and dispatched their slender store. As the Pacific is not always so peaceful as its name, this pleasing task was not at all times accomplished with ease. When on a boat tipped to an angle of 60 degrees, a Japanese juggler would find some difficulty in conjuring his body to remain in an upright position and simultaneously inducing a seething plate of soup to abide in a placid state; yet the uninitiated volunteers contrived to perform this daring feat three times a day. The many strange figures which they described in their endeavors to execute these occult tricks would have done justice to the most skillful acrobat. Frequently, as the vessel gave an extra lurch, the insecure warrior proceeded with all possible speed to the side of the boat and deposited his food and eating utensils on the surface of the sad sea waves amid the execrations of those whom he had the good fortune to come in contact with on his hasty trip and the jibes of his appreciative audience. At this same place the mendacious batterymen gathered in the warm afternoons to tell sea serpent legends and fairy stories about some great event which had never happened in the trenches. When this supply had been exhausted they began forthwith to dilate upon the virtues of the most famous officers until those worthies would have been unable to recognize their own characters had they been confronted with them in their garnished garb. Once in a very great while an officer strolled down from the aristocratic atmosphere of the saloon dining hall and watched the feeding of the enlisted drove with a superior grace. To convince the famished soldiers that they were getting a redundant quantity of food, he sometimes called for a [text missing in original.] There was always a good heap of hash left to show the astonished men that they were merely chronic kickers. Then the well-fed comedian adjourned to his spacious saloon and offered an apology to his offended stomach by supplying it with an abundance of all that the steamer carried.
The one great comfort to the fagging spirits of the Utahn was the battery fund. Through the darkest days of war his dying hopes were revived by visions of what the future held in store for him by the aid of this phantom. It was to the despairing volunteer what mirage is to the thirsty traveler of the desert. The fund represented the combined contributions of the soldiers, benevolent persons and charitable institutions. Besides this a fabulous sum was added by the artillery canteen which exchanged beer for the Utes' money and, in addition to what it contributed towards the battery fund, provided turkeys and succotash for the Thanksgiving and Christmas banquets. When it was announced that this enormous sum was to be expended for dainties on the way home the joy of the batteryman knew no limits. Spectre dinners of mutton, cakes and pies arose in his mind with a suddenness that would have startled the most ardent disbeliever in ghosts. Without the aid of Pluto he called up all the spirits of meals long dead and fed on them till the marvelous distribution should take place. And it was not long in coming. One morning, accompanied by the stentorian voice of the bugle Judge Williams, heavily laden with a huge cargo of jam, hove in sight. Then were many whispered comments made about the quantity which each man was to receive. The Judge soon stopped this and shortly after there was a hum of satisfaction all along the deck as the men made way with this delicacy. Now the gastronomy of the warrior lived and flourished under the rigors of army hardtack and navy beans, but it collapsed at once when introduced to Jamesson's jam. There was a sudden epidemic of cramps throughout the entire organization, but the ever victorious commissary sergeant soon stamped this out by the judicious application of some French mustard, which had been purchased by the battery fund. And thus the men of Utah were fed.
Meanwhile the swift "Hancock" steamed out of Manila bay and speeded toward Japan. Two days out she passed the beautiful Island of Formosa, and in three days more the vessel came in sight of Nagasaki, the leading coaling station of the Flowery Kingdom. Just at dusk the pilot boarded the vessel and directed her safely through the narrow channel into the land-locked harbor. Next morning all the soldiers were given shore leave for the day and San-pans—the native craft—were provided to take the men ashore. Here the Utahn explored the country in the jin-rickisha—a two-wheeled vehicle which is drawn by the cabby himself, who as soon as he has settled to his satisfaction the price to be paid, ambles off at a gentle speed. If the Island of Kiusiu appeared beautiful as the boat approached it in the waning twilight it seemed doubly so in the glory of the morning sun. It is a land where poetry breathes as freely as the gentle zephyrs blow from the summit of Mount Olympus; it is a land where women are as fair as the daughters of Niobe. The pretty terraced hills adorned with Pagan temples are rich in the odor of the spice and pine; the pellucid lakes and bays gather a silver purity from the very crest of the mountain; and as one gazes upon this beauty and simple grandeur he imagines that it was just such influences as these that stirred the soul of Hellas when she pictured Aphrodite springing out of the sea or Neptune riding in his chariot of shells with a gay company of Tritons and Nymphs. Three days, owing to a raging typhoon, the vessel was delayed in coaling, but after the storm had spent its force the coaling was resumed and the transport put to sea. On the 11th the ships arrived at Muji, the key to the southern end of the inland sea. Here Japan's military power is fully shown. Huge guns bristle from every hill, dark warships stud the clear waters of the ocean and soldiers deck the peaks. The sharp green cliffs in the inland sea chop off into the water and from every one of these of any importance a cannon menacingly points. Both entrances to the place are controlled by powerful fortresses which command the open sea for a distance of twelve miles. In such a way has the Mikado prepared for any war emergency. Two days after sighting Muji the "Hancock" dropped anchor in the harbor of Yokahama. The visit here lasted three days, during which the Utahns took a trip to Tokio and saw of what the outside wall of the Emperor's palace is composed. At Yokahama the batterymen spent the time in visiting the European portion of the town and learning all they could about the flavor of the Japanese foods. On the 16th the vessel lifted her ponderous anchor and pointed her prow eastward.
The only exciting incident during the entire voyage happened at Nagasaki, when the first officer attempted to use corporal punishment on the ship's quartermaster who had been ashore and in addition to getting drunk had succeeded in breaking his kneepan. While he was getting his wound attended to in the ship's hospital the big burly mate descended the gangway and struck him a violent blow in the face. Not content with this brutal treatment the monster had the poor wretch placed in irons and dragged up the ship's ladder. Just as this procession landed on the upper deck the soldiers rose unto a man and stopped the performance amid cries of "throw him overboard." Surprised and astounded at this interference the worthy officer demanded of the mob if they knew they were mutinying. To which several of the leaders answered they knew not under what legal nomenclature such a demonstration could be classed but that they would carry out their threat to the letter if the castigation should proceed. At this the cowed dignitary retreated in haste to the security of his cabin.
The "Hancock" was generally regarded as a fast boat. This may have been true twenty years before the Nebraskans and Utahns boarded her, but there were those who doubted the truth of such an assertion. During her infancy on the Atlantic the boat had struck an iceberg and succeeded in breaking forty feet off her bow. Since then she has been subject to periodical disturbances in her interior, consequently her owners patiently awaited the advent of war, knowing that the United States Government would purchase her for the transport service at an early opportunity. It is needless to say she eventually found her way into the Pacific. On leaving Manila it was the intention of the "Hancock" to break her own record of eighteen days between San Francisco and that port. Her new record of thirty days had not yet been announced in the newspapers. As a matter of fact she did happen to break her machinery and delay the expedition six hours, causing a break in the fond hopes which the soldiers had built up.
There was one death during the trip over, Richard Ralph of Battery B, who died at Nagasaki of typhoid fever on the 15th of July. Corporal George Williams of the same organization was also left at the same point owing to a severe attack of the dysentery. Both men were Englishmen and had enlisted at Eureka. Otherwise the health of the batteries was good.
The big prow of the "Hancock" loomed up darkly on the night of the 29th in San Francisco harbor and rested at anchor. The long sea journey was over. Until very late that night, long after taps had sounded sharply over the waters of the harbor, the soldiers clustered around the deck of the ship, heard the megaphone dialogues between the newspaper tugs and the transport, and looked with longing eyes and hearts that beat with joy at the gleaming lights of San Francisco.
Many friends from Utah arrived on tugs during the next day, when the transport was still in quarantine, and there was a generous greeting when the transport moved up to the dock on the morning of the 30th. The whole of this day was spent by the soldiers in exchanging greeting with friends and in preparing their property for transportation to the Presidio.
It was on the morning of the 31st that the soldiers were permitted for the first time to descend from the transport and walk again, after sixteen months of absence in the Orient, upon the shores of the United States.
The battalions marched up the streets of San Francisco behind the veterans of the Nebraska regiment, the center of a tremendous demonstration. At the Presidio they were given quarters on the slopes to the left of the Presidio road. The patriotic sentiments and generous feelings of the citizens had been further shown, as the slopes of the hills were lined with large Sibley tents, each equipped with a stove as protection from the chilly mists that creep up by night from the bay. There were also frame buildings for use as offices and a large kitchen and mess room, commodiously and thoroughly equipped for comfort and convenience.