Gatling Camp and Bomb-Proofs at Fort Roosevelt.
The Gatling Gun Detachment moved forward about half a mile. They found the 71st New York lying down by the side of the road, partially blocking it. Troops passing them toward the front were compelled to break into columns of twos, because the road was crowded by the 71st. The colonel and his adjutant were sought and found, and informed of the detachment’s instructions. Information was requested as to when and where the 71st was going into the fight. It appeared that they had a vague idea that they were going in on the left center of the left wing. Lawton’s Division at El Caney will be considered the right wing; Kent’s Division and Wheeler’s Division the left wing of the army at San Juan. The 71st did not seem to know when it was going to move toward the front, nor just where it was going; and there was no apparent effort being made to get further down the road to the front. Wheeler’s Division was also pressing forward on the road, dismounted cavalrymen, with no arms in their hands except their carbines without bayonets. With these same carbines these men were, a little later, to storm the intrenchments, manned by picked and veteran soldiers, who knew how to die at their posts.
With Wheeler’s Division were the Rough Riders, the most unique aggregation of fighting men ever gathered together in any army. There were cowboys, bankers, brokers, merchants, city clubmen, and society dudes; commanded by a doctor, second in command a literary politician; but every man determined to get into the fight. About three-quarters of a mile in advance was the first ford, the ford of the Aguadores River; beyond this a quarter of a mile was another ford, the ford of the San Juan. The road forked about two hundred yards east of the Aguadores ford, turning sharply to the left. Down the road from El Poso crept the military balloon, it halted near this fork—“Balloon Fork.” Two officers were in its basket, six or eight hundred feet above the surface of the ground, observing the movements of the troops and the disposition of the enemy.
The sharp crackle of the musketry began in front, and still the Gatling Gun Detachment lay beside the road with the 71st, waiting, swearing, broiling, stewing in their own perspiration, mad with thirst, and crazed with the fever of the battle. The colonel of the 71st was again approached, to ascertain whether he was now going to the front, but still there were no signs of any indication to move forward. So the long-eared steed was mounted and the ford of the Aguadores reconnoitered. The bullets were zipping through the rank tropical jungle. Two or three men were hit. Those who moved forward were going single file, crouching low, at a dog trot. There was no evidence of hesitation or fear here. Some of the “Brunettes” passed, their blue shirts unbuttoned, corded veins protruding as they slightly raised their heads to look forward, great drops of perspiration rolling down their sleek, shiny, black skins. There was a level spot, slightly open, beyond the ford of the Aguadores, which offered a place for going into battery; from this place the enemy’s works on San Juan were visible, a faint streak along the crest of the hill illumined from time to time by the flash of Mausers.
On return to the battery, there were no signs of being able to enter the action with the gallant 71st, and, acting under the second clause of the instructions, the Gatling battery was moved forward at a gallop. Major Sharpe, a mounted member of Gen. Shafter’s staff, helped to open a way through this regiment to enable the guns to pass. The reception of the battery by these valiant men was very different from that so recently given by the 13th Regulars. “Give ’em hell, boys!” “Let ’er go, Gallagher!” “Goin’ to let the woodpeckers go off?”—and cheer after cheer went up as the battery passed through. Vain efforts were made to check this vociferous clamor, which was plainly audible to the enemy, less than 1500 yards away. The bullets of the enemy began to drop lower. The cheering had furnished them the clew they needed. They had located our position, and the 71st atoned for this thoughtlessness by the loss of nearly eighty men, as it lay cowering in the underbrush near Balloon Fork.
Just before reaching the Aguadores ford, the battery was met by Col. Derby, who had been observing the disposition of the troops, from the balloon, and had afterward ridden to the front on horseback. The colonel was riding along, to push the infantry forward in position from the rear, as coolly as if on the parade-ground. A blade of grass had gotten twisted around a button of his uniform and hung down like a buttonhole bouquet over his breast. There was a genial smile on his handsome face as he inquired, “Where are you going?” and, on being informed of the orders of the detachment and of the intention to put the battery into action, he replied, “The infantry are not deployed enough to take advantage of your fire. I would advise that you wait a short time. I will send you word when the time comes.” The advice was acted upon, the guns were turned out by the side of the road, and the men directed to lie down.
