To illustrate some of the material with big titles sent to “assist” in running the staff departments, two incidents will suffice.
On the 11th of June, at a certain headquarters, it was desired to send a message, demanding reply, to each transport. A gray-haired officer turned to another and said, “Whom shall we send with this? Will So-and-so do?” naming one of the before-mentioned civil appointments. “For heaven’s sake, no! He would tie up the whole business. Send an orderly,” was the reply. The orderly, an enlisted man of the Regulars, was sent. The officer thus adjudged less competent to carry a message than a private soldier was perhaps actuated by a high sense of duty; but he filled a place which should have been occupied by an experienced and able officer—no, he did not fill it, but he prevented such a man from doing so.
The second incident was related by an officer on a transport bound for home. Say his name was—oh well, Smith.
Smith went, on the 20th of July, to a certain headquarters in the field on business. Those who could have attended to it were absent, but there was one of the recent arrivals, a high-ranking aide, there, and he, sorry for Smith’s worn-out look of hunger, heat, and thirst, asked if he would have a drink. Smith, expecting at the best a canteen of San Juan River water, said he was a little dry.
The newly-arrived clapped his hands, and, at the summons, a colored waiter in spotless white duck appeared. “Waitah, take this gentleman’s ordah,” said the host. Smith, greatly astonished, asked what could be had, and was yet more astonished to learn that he could be served with Canadian or domestic whisky, claret, champagne, or sherry. Much bewildered, and utterly forgetting the awful dangers of liquor in the tropics, he called for Canadian Club. When it came, on a napkin-covered tray, he looked for water, and was about to use some from a bucket full of ice which he at that moment espied. “Aw! hold on,” exclaimed the host; “we nevah use that, don’t y’ know, except to cool the apollinaris. Waitah, bring the gentleman a bottle of apollinaris to wash down his liquor.”
Within half a mile were soldiers and officers lying sick in hospital on the ground, eating hardtack and bacon, and drinking San Juan straight, because hospital supplies and rations could not be got to the front!
It was this same officer who explained that he approached his headquarters “by rushes,” upon his arrival, for fear the enemy would see him and consider this reinforcement a violation of the truce.
These are two examples of some of the able assistants from civil life who were sent to help feed, clothe, and transport the 5th Corps.
With such assistants, is it any wonder that, under such extraordinary circumstances as those encountered in Cuba, a system designed for peace and 25,000 men weakened in some respects when the attempt was made to apply it to 300,000 in time of war?
The great wonder is that it did the work as well as it did. And this was due to the superhuman exertions of the chief officers of the supply departments and their experienced assistants. These men knew no rest. They were untiring and zealous. On their own responsibility they cut the red tape to the very smallest limit. Instead of the regular returns and requisitions, the merest form of lead-pencil memorandum was sufficient to obtain the necessary supplies, whenever they were available. This much was absolutely necessary, for these officers were personally responsible for every dollar’s worth of supplies and had to protect themselves in some degree. As it is now, many of them will find it years before their accounts are finally settled, unless some provision be made by law for their relief. This disregard of routine was essential; but how much to be desired is a system suited to the exigencies of the service, both in peace and war!