The regiment had joined General Lawton’s command and was now in the vicinity of Angat, a pretty town, full of quaint buildings, and a place which, as yet, the rebellion had scarcely touched. But the insurgents had been developed in force by the sharpshooters in front, and now a constant rattle of musketry was heard, which made Ben’s blood tingle as of old, when the cry had been, “On to Santiago!” and “On to Malolos!”
“Yes, you are right, Gilmore,” answered the 92 young captain. “And I am not sorry. It will help us to forget the rain and our other discomforts.” Ben did not say it would help him to forget about Larry, but that is what he meant.
The regiment was soon advancing on the double-quick. It was spread out in skirmish order, and the route lay over what had once been a rice-field, but which was but little more than a sheet of dirty water four to eight inches deep. Here and there were holes, and into these some of the soldiers would sometimes step, thus getting an involuntary bath, much to their disgust.
“It ain’t all a picnic,” remarked one of the unfortunates, as he leaped up out of a hole and shook himself like a big dog. “Folks at home as just read the newspaper accounts of the war don’t know anything of what us fellows have to put up with. All they think we do is to rush forward, kill the enemy, and cover ourselves with glory. I’ll wager some of ’em would put on a mighty sour face if they had to tramp ten or twenty miles in the mud and wet, carry a gun and other luggage, and hardly knowing when the next meal was going to turn up and what it was going to amount to.”
“Oh, you’ve got ’em bad, Bradner!” shouted a 93 comrade. “Here, light my pipe and take a smoke. It will dry off your nose if nothing else.” And Bradner took the pipe and was thankful that tobacco, at least, was still forthcoming.
Half an hour later Ben received orders to take his company up to the firing line, and away went the command on the double-quick, with the young captain at the head. The rain had let up a bit, and the rebels could be seen making a stand behind a grove of half-wild plantains, where were located a score of nipa huts.
“Run them out, boys!” shouted Ben, as they drew closer. “If we go at them with a rush we’ll soon have them on the run!” And on swept the company, with orders to fire at will. Soon there was a constant cracking of rifles, and Ben and the other officers joined in with their pistols. The insurgents fired in return, and one man of the company fell back, hit in the arm.
Just before the grove was gained there was a brook to cross. This was much swollen, and here a number of the soldiers came to a halt, fearing that fording was out of the question.
“Don’t stop!” came in a loud cry from Major Morris. “You can leap the stream easily enough. 94 Come, I’m going!” And over he went with a bound, and a score of soldiers followed. A raking fire came from the nipa huts, but now the rebels were seen to be fleeing. The Americans answered the fire with volley after volley from their own guns, and the huts were surrounded as quickly as possible.
“Captain Russell, you will take the trail to the left,” said an orderly, dashing up. “Major Morris will rejoin you at the fork in the road.”