Commodore Winfield Scott Schley and the fighters of his flying squadron were gathered at Hampton Roads, impatient for orders from Washington to face the foe. Far away in Pacific waters Commodore Dewey was cabled the command to hold himself in readiness to proceed to Manila, and the good ship Oregon, under command of Captain Clarke, was steaming her way around Cape Horn to join the fleet in Cuban waters.
In the army equal activity was shown.
THE CAMP AT CHICKAMAUGA.
Chickamauga Park, near Chattanooga, Tenn., was the point of concentration for the regular troops which were gathered for the war with Spain. It was the initial camp where the mobilization took place, and from which soldiers and supplies were dispatched to seacoast towns within easy striking distance of Cuba. When orders went out from army headquarters at Washington for the movement of the regulars to Chickamauga a thrill of soldierly pride swelled the breast of every man who wore Uncle Sam's blue uniform, and there was a hasty dash for the new camp. There is nothing an army man, officer or private, dislikes so much as inactivity. Fighting, especially against a foreign foe, suits him better than dawdling away his time in idleness, and word to "get to the front" is always welcome.
For nearly three weeks troops poured into Chickamauga on every train. They came from all parts of the country, and from every regiment and branch of the service. There were "dough-boys" and cavalry-men, engineers and artillerymen; some regiments were there in force, others were represented by detachments only. There were companies and parts of companies, squadrons and parts of squadrons, batteries and parts of batteries. It was a bringing together of Uncle Sam's soldier boys from all conceivable sections of the country. They came from posts in California and Texas, from Wyoming and Maine, from Colorado and Minnesota. In time of peace the regular army is badly scattered. It is seldom that an entire regiment is stationed at one post, the companies being distributed over a wide area of territory. A mobilization, therefore, like that at Chickamauga, tended to consolidate and put new life into commands which had been badly dismembered by the exigencies of the service. Old comrades were brought together and there was a sort of general reunion and glorification. Men who had been doing police duty near big cities met those who had been watching Indians on the plains, or chasing greaser bandits on the border line. They exchanged stories and prepared for the stern realities of war with a vigor which boded ill for the foe they were to face.
Uncle Sam's soldier is a great grumbler when in idleness. He finds fault with his officers, his food, his quarters, his clothing, his pay, and even with himself. Nothing pleases him. He records big, sonorous oaths about his idiocy in swearing away his liberty for a term of years. But let the alarm of war sound, show him active preparations for a scrimmage with the enemy, and the "regular" is happy. This was the condition which prevailed at Chickamauga. The men were full of enthusiasm and worked as hard as the proverbial beavers. Drills once distasteful and shirked whenever possible were gone through with alacrity and the "boy in blue" was a true soldier, every inch of him. There was war in sight.
LIFE AT CAMP THOMAS.
On one point at least there was an accord of opinion in rank and file—the camp was well named. "Camp George H. Thomas" they called it, in memory of old "Pap," the hero of Chickamauga, and men and officers alike took a very visible pride in being residents of the tented city. The establishment of the community at Camp Thomas was much like the establishment of a colony in an unsettled land, in so far as domestic conveniences were concerned. Everything had to be taken there, and each regiment, which was a small canvas town in itself, had to depend entirely upon its own resources. Dotted here and there throughout the entire expanse of the fifteen-mile reservation, these cities of tents were seen, and the brave men who lived in them depended upon themselves and each other for what little entertainment they got. A description of the quarters of one officer will serve for all. An "A," or wall tent, 10 by 12 feet, and some of them a size smaller, was his house. On one side a folding camp cot, with a thin yet comfortable mattress and an abundance of heavy, woolen army blankets. A table about twenty inches square, with legs that fold up into the smallest possible space, stood near the door at the foot of the cot. A folding chair or two for his visitors, a large valise or a very small trunk, a bit of looking glass hanging from a tent pole, a tubular lantern, or, if the tenant of the tent was not so fortunate as to possess such a modern light, then a candle attached to a stick in the ground beside his bed. Tie strings attached to the rear wall of the tent afforded a hanging place for "his other shirt" and a pair of extra shoes. His leggings and boots were on his feet, and his belt, pistol and saber stood in a corner. A pad of writing paper, pocket inkstand, a razor strop, unless he had foresworn shaving, a briar or corn-cob pipe, and a bag of tobacco completed the furnishings of his house. Commanding officers, at regimental headquarters, had an extra roof, or "tent fly," as an awning in front of their quarters, but otherwise lived as other officers did.
The enlisted men, quartered in the conical wall tents now adopted by the army, bunked with heads to the wall and feet toward the center, from nine to twelve in a tent Their bedding and blankets were good and they were as comfortable as soldiers could hope to be in the field. Some of the regiments from the remote Northwest had the Sibley conical tent, which has no wall, but which has a small sheet iron stove. These were more than appreciated during the cold, rainy weather that prevailed at Camp Thomas.
The mess tents and cookhouses are about alike in all the arms of the service. The "cuddy-bunk" oven, made of sheet, iron, bakes well and looks like two iron pans fastened together, one upon the top of the other. Men detailed as cooks and waiters, or "kitchen police," as they are denominated in the posts, attended to the preparation and serving of the meals, and the soldiers lived well, indeed. Field rations were used when in transit from point to point, but when in camp the company or troop mess purchased fresh meats, vegetables, eggs, fruits, etc., and lived high.