Springfield in the Spanish American War

by Walter W. Ward

IT was not until well along in the afternoon that the Knickerbocker's passengers started for the shore and as it was not all of them landed that day, the third battalion being left on board until the 23d. For many long hours the steamer backed and filled together with the other vessels and the men, loaded down as they were with their field equipment and waiting for the word to disembark, found plenty of time to enjoy the stirring scenes about them. There were the grim painted war ships, all ready for business and their hustling "Jackies" working like beavers to aid in landing us "doughboys." Between the big ships danced the saucy torpedo boats and destroyers and quick puffing launches having in tow strings of small boats, these being our means of transportation from the ship to the land. In front were the frowning hills which guarded the coast line and from which an enemy of any determination could have easily prevented our landing. On a plateau directly in front of us was the village of Daiquiri, abandoned that morning by the Spaniards after a brief bombardment by our fleet, while a force of Cubans got along in time to worry the retreating enemy. A portion of the village and the works were still smoldering, having been fired by the Spaniards before they left the place.

Daiquiri was the seat of the Spanish-American Iron company and a narrow gauge railroad connects it with Juguaracito or Siboney where the company had quite an extensive establishment. Jutting out into the water was a high iron pier and it was supposed we were to land there, but this was found to be impossible after one or two trials.

Meanwhile after long waiting a dinky little steam launch from the battleship Massachusetts and followed by a string of small boats, came alongside the Knickerbocker and the youthful ensign in charge allowed that he was ordered to take headquarters and as many others of the regiment as possible on shore. This was agreeable and Col. Clark and his field and staff embarked in the launch without much trouble, although the job of climbing down a slippery rope ladder, then hanging on by both hands to the side ropes and waiting until the next high wave brought the launch up to within a couple of feet of you and then falling more or less, mostly less, gracefully into it, was not particularly pleasing. After headquarters, a platoon of G company embarked and this filled the boats.

How to get on shore from the boats appeared to grow into a serious problem as we neared the landing place. This was an old wooden pier, which jutted out some little distance from the land. There was a heavy surf on and the little basin in which the pier stood was jammed with boats and launches, all apparently very much snarled up but which in reality were being ably managed. After much maneuvering our launch was jammed alongside the pier and the next problem was how to get upon it. The supporting piles rose high up from the water and their slimy surface offered no inducement to attempt climbing. One moment we would be down in the trough of a wave and then the launch would be lifted up almost to the top of the pier and the sailors would be hard put to it to keep the boats from being dashed against the huge piling of the pier. The method of our landing could hardly be called dignified. As the boat would be raised almost to a level with the floor of the pier by a wave our rolls and equipment would be tossed up to some soldiers waiting to assist us. Then down the boat would go again and when the next wave raised it we would stand up on the thwarts of the boat, reach up our hands, two of the men on the pier would grasp them and we would scramble up the best we could. In this way the first lot was landed and the boats hustled back to the ship after another load of passengers. The pier was connected with the land by some loose planks and across these we walked gingerly, finally reaching terra firma. We were on Cuban soil at last.

On shore there was as much bustle and confusion as in the landing. Many of the regulars and a part of "Ours" had already landed but there appeared to be no system, and officers and men were scattered about everywhere. A short distance from the pier was a typical Cuban "shack" as the regulars called it, a roughly built shed with a roof of palm leaf thatch and around this was a lot of Cuban soldiers who were making themselves "good fellows" by giving away cocoanuts, of which they had a couple of large bags. They, the soldiers, were of varying shades of blackness and their "uniforms" consisted mostly of nothing. Some had more clothing than the others, but few had anything like a complete outfit. They were barefooted and bareheaded but all had the inevitable machete and some kind of a firearm, from the latest model Spanish Mauser and the navy Lee to an old shotgun. They could talk English about as well as we could Spanish and the sign language was used with more or less success.

Having filled up on cocoanuts, which tasted good, we became thirsty. A water pipe ran along the ground and we soon found a faucet, but the first man to take a drink spat out the water and said some sharp and emphatic things concerning it at which we mildly wondered until he calmed down sufficiently to tell us that it was "hot enough to boil eggs in." Sure enough it was. The pipes ran along on the surface of the ground and the sun did the rest.

"Mucho caliente agua," commented a ragged "Cubana" as he noticed our disgusted looks and one or two who understood enough Spanish to know what he meant agreed with him. Then he grinned as only a Cuban can and pointing to the plateau where the main part of the village was located, said: "Agua fresca," which being interpreted meant "cold water." So off we started for the plateau and there found several barrels of fresh water which was fairly cool. Among the "shacks" which composed the town we found a "brigade" of the "brave" Cuban soldiers. They were having a good time recounting their exploits and staring at "los Americano soldados," whose rough and ready manners were not always to their liking. A few of their field officers were almost white in color and decently uniformed but the majority, like the men, were black and distinguished from their men by small silver stars worn on a strap across the breast, three being the insignia of a captain, two of a first lieutenant and one of a second lieutenant.

A point of much interest to our men were the burning shops, which the Spaniards had fired before retreating. On the railway track was a locomotive and some cars which had been disabled and burnt. Additional interest was caused by the pursuit, capture and summary execution of an unwise pig by a mob of our men and Cubans.