On June 29th a part of General Garcia's Army with some 4000 Cubans were marched to the front, but they rendered little assistance, either in working or fighting. The most of them fled at the first explosion of a Spanish shell over El Pozo Capital Hill on July 1st. However, some excuse is theirs. Ragged, some half naked, wearied from hunger, laden with huge earthen water pots, heavy packs and cooking utensils slung over their backs, armed with every conceivable obsolete pattern of gun, it is no wonder that they dared not face the deadly Mauser rifle; we ourselves had much less contempt for Spanish arms after we had met them face to face on the battle field.
On June 30th the general order came to move forward and every man felt that the final test of skill at arms would soon come. The cavalry division of six regiments camped in its tracks at midnight on El Pozo Hill, awoke next morning to find itself in support of Grimes' Battery which was to open fire here on the left.
The morning of July 1st was ideally beautiful; the sky was cloudless and the air soft and balmy; peace seem to reign supreme, great palms towered here and there above the low jungle. It was a picture of a peaceful valley. There was a feeling that we had secretly invaded the Holy Land. The hush seemed to pervade all nature as though she held her bated breath in anticipation of the carnage.
Captain Capron's field guns had opened fire upon the southern field at El Caney and the hill resounded with echoes. Then followed the reply of the musketry of the attacking invaders. The fighting in our front burst forth and the battle was on.
The artillery duel began and in company with foreign military attachés and correspondents we all sat watching the effect of the shots as men witness any fine athletic contest eagerly trying to locate their smokeless batteries. A force of insurgents near the old Sugar Mill cowered at the explosion of each firing charge apparently caring for little except the noise.
A slug of iron now and then fell among the surrounding bushes or buried itself deep in the ground near us. Finally a projectile from an unseen Spanish gun discharged a Hotchkiss piece, wounded two cavalrymen and smashed into the old Sugar Mill in our rear, whereupon the terrorized insurgents fled and were not seen again near the firing line until the battle was over.
When the Tenth Cavalry arrived at the crossing of San Juan River the balloon had become lodged in the treetops above and the enemy had just begun to make a target of it. A converging fire upon all the works within range opened upon us that was terrible in its effect. Our mounted officers dismounted and the men stripped off at the roadside everything possible and prepared for business.
We were posted for a time in the bed of the stream to the right directly under the balloon and stood in the water to our waists waiting orders to deploy. Remaining there under this galling fire of exploding shrapnel and deadly Mauser bullets the minutes seemed like hours. General Wheeler and a part of his staff stood mounted a few minutes in the middle of the stream. Just as I raised my hat to salute in passing up the stream to pass the squadron of my regiment, a piece of bursting shell struck between us and covered us both with water. Pursuant to orders from its commander, with myself as guide, the second squadron of the Tenth forced its way through wire fence and almost impenetrable thicket to its position. The regiment was soon deployed as skirmishers in an opening across the river to the right of the road and our line of skirmishers being partly visible from the enemy's position, their fire was turned upon us and we had to lie down in the grass a few minutes for safety. Two officers of the regiment were wounded; here and there were frequent calls for the surgeon.
White regiments, black regiments, regulars and rough riders representing the young manhood of the North and South fought shoulder to shoulder unmindful of race or color, unmindful of whether commanded by an ex-confederate or not, and mindful only of their common duty as Americans.
Through streams, tall grass, tropical undergrowth, under barbed wire fences and over wire entanglements, regardless of casualties up the hill to the right this gallant advance was made. As we appeared on the brow of the hill we found the Spaniards retreating only to take up a new position farther on, spitefully firing as they retreated and only yielding their ground inch by inch.