The several days following the landing of the batteries were spent in giving the men the rest they had earned and needed. No work worthy of mention was done until the morning of the 29th, when came the first scent of trouble—of war. From the actions of the officers at early morning it was plain to be seen that something was going to happen. Two guns of Battery A were taken over to the trenches which had been built by the insurgents near the Capuchin Monastery. During the day the sharpshooters of the Twenty-third United States Infantry and the Spanish had been doing some desultory firing with little result on either side, save that the men kept their heads closer to the breastworks, while a battalion of the Colorado Infantry, under Colonel McCoy, advanced beyond the old trenches to a point near the monastery, where they threw up a new line of earthworks. The two guns of Battery A moved to this point the following morning and took possession of the emplacements already constructed. On the following morning two guns under Lieutenant Grow of Battery B were brought over from Camp Dewey and placed in position on the left. Men from both lines were engaged in erecting gun pits all along the front. The guns were located about 1000 yards from Fort San Antonio de Abad, which formed the extreme right of the Spanish line. The enemy's left and center was protected by a line of intrenchments. Outpost duty was being performed by a company of the Eighteenth United States Infantry. The firing, which had been kept up with more or less vigor, came from the right of the Utah position, which was entirely unprotected owing to a failure on the part of the insurgents to maintain their lines between Calle Real and the Pasig road.
During the night of July 30th-31st the excitement began. Heavy small arm firing was indulged in by the enemy and from his lines came shells at irregular intervals, none of which did any damage. At this time Lieutenant Naylor was in the trenches with the two guns of Battery A. At 8 o'clock next morning Lieutenant Gibbs relieved him of the command with two-gun detachments of fresh men. All day everything was quiet. The enemy was planning a night attack, as he had no desire to mix with the American forces in a fair open fight in the broad light of day, but rather trusted to darkness to accomplish his designs. Everything was quiet until 11:30 that evening, when the Mausers began singing venomously from the Spanish lines. Then came the boom of his artillery and the men in the trenches knew that the time for action had come. The Tenth Pennsylvania troops replied with their Springfields and the whiz of the "45's" mingled with the keen "twang" of the Mausers, while the Third Artillerymen, equipped as regular infantry, took a part in the altercation. The instructions of the Utah men were not to fire until it was evident the enemy was making an advance. The cannoneers stood by their guns awaiting the orders which should make them a part of the fight. Finally it came. Major Cuthberton of the First California, the senior officer present, gave the word and then Utah's voice was heard for the first time during the war. The gunners worked like Trojans and with shrapnel punched at zero they sent shell after shell into the Castilian lines. Corporal Charles Varian, with no clothing on save a pair of trousers, sweating like a man who was working for his life, yet cool withal, managed his piece like a veteran. Sergeant J.O. Nystrom gave orders in a collected way that instilled fresh courage into the hearts of his men. W.W. Riter wore a seraphic smile as he sighted his gun at the spits of flame on the other side, while Billy Kneass worked his cannon with the sang froid of a man in a blind waiting for ducks. It was a warm time and when morning dawned it was ascertained that several Castilian voices had been added to Choral Society in that land beyond the river. Utah's men were standing their baptism of fire and proved themselves soldiers. All the terrible passion of war had supplanted the first feelings of timidity, and they manipulated their guns with as much composure as they would have handled the pigskins on the gridiron. But the ammunition was running short. Fifty-seven shrapnel had been discharged and the battle was still on. The Pennsylvania men had fired away nearly all their ammunition, and affairs began to look serious, when a body of men from Camp Dewey hauling a limber chest after them dashed from out the gloom. Once more across the intervening space the shells shrieked and broke the Spanish lines, causing havoc and terror. The attempt of the "Dons" had proved futile, and after having fought for two and a half hours they withdrew.
Although other commands had lost men the Utah boys were fortunate in this that not one of their number was killed and only one slightly wounded in this engagement.
For several days but little was done by the Utah troops. The men constructed emplacements for the guns, cut down timber which might have interfered with good work and awaited orders. In the meantime the Lieutenants of the batteries were relieving each other from day to day. The fire from the Spanish lines was kept up in a desultory manner and was replied to by the infantry in the American lines.
The final engagement on the 13th was short, but the guns of the Utah men did wonderful execution. In conjunction with Dewey's fleet they tore holes in the Spanish fort at Malate and helped in forcing the enemy out of his position on the extreme left.
CHAPTER II.
Like all the other organizations which had taken part in the capturing of Manila, the Utah batteries were without a home when they first entered the city. Battery A found temporary quarters in a spacious nipa hut in the Malate district, while Battery B went into barracks in the Odministracion de Hacienda. Several days later Major Young secured the Cuartel de Meisic, formerly occupied by a Spanish engineer regiment, and Battery A was stationed there August 18th. Some days following Battery B moved into the same building. The Third Artillery occupied the south half of the Cuartel, and the batteries were domiciled in the east and west wings of the north half. The Cuartel was a large and stalwart structure located in the most picturesque part of Manila. South of it lay the business portion of Manila, with its Escolta, its Plaza de Cervantes, and its Hotel de Oriente; to the west was the Marcadero teeming with rustic Filipino maids and redolent with its Oriental odors; stretching away to the north were the broad rice fields and forests of bamboo, with the mountains in the distance forming a background. It was a pleasant home and one which the men appreciated.
During the first few weeks of barrack life the men settled down serene in the thought that they would soon be speeding homeward. Their duty had been done and they felt that they were now entitled to the happier pleasures of Utah. But days passed, and were lengthened into weeks, weeks passed and were lengthened into months, and still they remained in the tropics with less hope of returning home than they had at first entertained. The novelty of their surroundings began to wear off and everything which the Philippines could afford became decidedly commonplace. Unable, therefore, to find other entertainments when off duty, as a pastime the men exchanged reminiscent fairy tales about their late combat. Wearying of these occupations they often sauntered out of the Cuartel in bodies in quest of what little mirth they could get out of the passive and inexplicable natives.