Springfield in the Spanish American War

by Walter W. Ward

That night we had to take off our hats to the Cuban rain storm. Hardly had the mail been distributed when it began to rain. Up to this what rain there was had usually fallen in the afternoon and was not of long duration, but the rain of July 11th and 12th will be remembered by every one in the Fifth Army Corps. It came down all night in solid sheets and our shelter tents and rubber blankets were of little use against it. When morning came everybody and everything was drenched, and a more forlorn looking outfit can hardly be imagined. About 6 A. M., the rain ceased for an hour or two and as soon as possible huge fires of bamboo were blazing and the men essayed to dry themselves and their clothing and to cook breakfast. Fortunately there was plenty of bamboo near our camp, and the wood burned as well wet as dry. But it was not long before down came the rain again just as bad as during the night, and to add to our discomfort, came orders to pack up and move on again.

Rolling up our saturated tents and blankets, and wet to the skin, we took up the march and after wading through the deep mud of the Cobre road for a short distance, plunged into a trail which would take us to our new position and our last camp in Cuba. But it was not long before we found that the trail led through a piece of swampy ground, and before they had gone far the boys found themselves up to their legging tops in mud and the ooze of the swamp. It took a long time to flounder along through this, but it was finally done and the regiment emerged upon firm ground, and was soon on the spot selected for its occupancy.

All this time the rain kept on, and it was not until nearly 4 P. M., that it ceased and the sun came out. Meanwhile, the well soaked shelter tents had been put up and the men were either huddled under them and saying things about the wet season and Cuba, or were standing about with their rubber blankets thrown over their heads. But with the coming of the sun there was a great change. Its rays were so fierce that within half an hour there was scarcely any indication that it had been raining all night and all day, the ground dried up rapidly and so did the shelter tents. Off came the rubber blankets from the men, and clothing and equipments were spread out to dry in the afternoon sun. Wood was hustled for and with the blaze of the cooking fires and the smell of bacon and coffee cheerfulness returned.

That evening the boys were put at work again digging trenches. Up to this Gen. Toral had hesitated to respond to Shafter's invitation to come out and surrender and the arrival of Gen. Miles having stiffened up the latter gentleman's backbone, some more trouble was looked for. Our brigade was, as usual, on the extreme right of the American line and the 8th regiment lay directly opposite the head of the harbor, the 22d next and then "ours." Right in front of our center and less than 500 yards away was the bull ring of Santiago, a circular wooden building filled with Spanish soldiers, while in front of that we could see the trenches with the soldiers lounging about, and with a glass could discern the barbed wire fencing and entanglements in front of the trenches. Our position was an exposed one, for from their position the enemy could have raked us front and flank, so at the trenches we went under the direction of Major Whipple.

Private Paul Vesper, B. Co.
Sergeant Richard H. Bearse, B. Co.
Private John J. Malone, B. Co.

By this time our regiment had been supplied with a fairly decent number of intrenching tools and the boys, appreciating the necessity for trenches, went at the work with but little grumbling. The trenches were dug on three sides of a square, one in front of each battalion, the work being done by each company in relays. Major Whipple's battalion now had the right, Major Fairbanks' the center and ours the left, so that it was in the rear of the other two. The work was continued to a late hour that night, and all the next day, and finished on the morning of the 14th. The trenches were even better than those dug on "Misery hill" and were complimented by Gen. Ludlow, who was a colonel of engineers before he became a general of volunteers. Not to be behind hand the non-commissioned staff of the regiment and the headquarters attaches dug a trench for themselves and the regiment was ready for the next move.

Twelve o'clock at noon of the 24th was the hour set for the ending of the truce, and at 11.30 A. M. we were ordered into the trenches. Everyone felt there was going to be a hard fight this time, for it was considered certain that the enemy would make a determined resistance and our estimate of Spanish valor had gone up many degrees since El Caney. It was known that an assault by the Americans was to follow the bombardment and those who had noted the enemy's preparations for defense knew that we were in for a warm reception and that if we charged up to the barbed wire entanglements and the trenches many would not return. But that made little difference and we took our position in the trenches and waited for the opening gun from Capron's battery, posted on a hill in our rear. The horses and the Chaplain had gone to the rear and the surgeons and hospital corps were posted in readiness for what might happen. Hardly had we got into the trenches when the buzzards began to gather, and this to us was a certain indication of a battle.

Noon came and the white flag of truce still waved from the governor's palace and the signal gun was not fired. Half after 12 and no change. We wondered what was up. Nothing much could be seen from the trenches and nearly all of the boys climbed to the top and sat down with eager eyes fastened upon the city we were going to capture. One o'clock and the white flag still floated. Now came the "Jo Jo" department to the front once again, and the news ran from trench to trench, that Shafter had postponed the assault and given the Spaniards a few days more in which to make up their mind. Following this came the information that Gen. Toral was merely trying to gain time in order that 10,000 Spanish troops which were coming up, might attack us in the rear while Toral's men sallied out in our front. And then down came the rain in large and continuous sheets, soon flooding the trenches and making us forget the impending battle, "Jo Jo's," and everything else but the necessity of keeping as dry as possible. The rain lasted for an hour and a half, filling our lovely trenches with water and putting them in nice shape for a battle. But hardly had the sun reappeared before we saw a horseman clad in the Khaki uniform of Shafter's staff galloping along the lines toward us and in his wake we saw the hats of the men in the trenches being thrown into the air, and the wearers dancing as if some extra good news had come. Reining up in front of the center trench where Col. Clark was, the horseman gave him the welcome news that the city had surrendered, and as the constantly increasing knot of officers and men who had got within earshot, began to get ready for a vocal demonstration, the aide added, "Orders are not to cheer, boys, for the deal isn't quite fixed up, but you can throw your hats into the air all you wish." Well, the boys, followed instructions and the hats went up, while the aide dashed over to the 8th and 22d with the news.

And it was good news. It meant no more trench digging, no more marching, no more fighting, and last but not least, as some of our long headed and practical ones figured it out, it meant more and varied rations, for now our ships could come into the harbor. The trenches were quickly emptied and we returned to our shacks in pretty good spirits.