The steward of the Mobile was an Englishman, like all her officers, and he was a direct descendant of thieves and inherited all their instincts of robbery. He thought nothing of charging $5 for a half-pint of vile liquor and his prices for anything else he could sell were in proportion. He contracted with some of the company commanders to furnish a number of loaves of bread each day for the men but the loaves turned out to be nothing more than biscuits and the prices asked were so exorbitant that a complaint was made to the captain of the ship and the steward was compelled to make restitution.

One of the first incidents of our passage homeward was the stopping of the Mobile by a United States gunboat on our second evening out from Santiago harbor. It seems that the Mobile was not showing just the proper lights and the gunboat steamed close to her to investigate, firing a blank charge across her bows as a signal to stop. The Mobile stopped. Then after a brief colloquy between the little gunboat and the big Mobile the latter was allowed to proceed. It should be said, however, that when the officers and crew of the gunboat ascertained that the Second Massachusetts was on board they gave us three hearty cheers.

Life on board the Mobile was not a bit more luxurious than it had been on the Knickerbocker or in Cuba. We had the same old travel rations and no means of cooking them. After the first day out an arrangement was made whereby Walter Butler, the cook for B company, was to have the use of the crew's galley to make coffee for the three Springfield companies. Walter did as well as he could under difficulties but ofttimes the water used in making the coffee was so poor in quality that the concoction was not exactly palatable. But it was better than ship's water.

The men messed as best they could. The officers had their meals in the dining saloon, paying $1 a day for them and they were not over luxurious. Neither were their quarters, for with the entire brigade on board the staterooms were insufficient to accommodate them all and they were forced to double up and in some instances three officers were assigned to one room and forced to "bunk" as best they could.

Many of the officers and men were just out of hospitals, and for them the voyage was a harder trial than those who were officially in good health. The ship's hospital was established on the aft deck and was protected from the elements only by canvas awnings and during the two or three times it rained during the voyage the sick men were drenched as they lay in their cots or hammocks. Surgeon Gates and Dr. Piersons, the contract surgeons who had done so much for our regiment in front of Santiago, were indefatigable in their attendance upon our sick and so were the hospital stewards, but the medical supplies were as usual insufficient and the accommodations entirely inadequate. Two men were detailed each day to assist in caring for the sick men from their companies and while of course they meant to do all they could for their comrades their performance very often fell far short of their intentions. Naturally the sick men were often peevish and troublesome and it cannot be said that the lot of the attendants was a very pleasant one.

On our second day out occurred the first death in the regiment, Sergeant Harold B. Wentworth of C company, who had been ill with typhoid fever and malaria. His body was buried at sea a few hours after death and the sad event was the first of a series during the voyage. Private George Higgins of F company was the next victim, his death occuring on the 15th.

August 17th was a black day for the Second. At 12.30 that morning Second Lieut. Harry J. Vesper of B company died after a long illness, with gastritis and malaria. He was a very sick man when brought on board but was nursed and cared for as tenderly as possible during the voyage. Private James Ryan of B was detailed as his attendant and was constantly with him, but even the best of care could not have saved him. The same day his body, wrapped in the folds of the American flag, was lowered into the deep, the Mobile being hove to for the purpose. The band of the 22d regiment played appropriate airs and Chaplain Wellwood of the Second conducted the services. The burial was nearly off Cape Hatteras. Lieut. Vesper, who was one of the most popular officers of the regiment, met his fate bravely and died in merciful ignorance of the fact that his brother, Private Paul Vesper of B company, had died a few days before the regiment left Cuba. At that time Lieut. Vesper was ill in the division hospital and it was deemed best to keep the knowledge of his brother's fate from him.

On this same day another B company man, Wagoner Paul J. Kingston, answered his final roll call, dying in the afternoon. Privates Earle C. Clark of H company and Franklin W. Manning of M company, made up the death roll for the day and their bodies were given to the sea.

On the 18th Privates Charles H. Cranston and Henry C. Collins, both of I company of Northampton, died and on the 20th just before we landed at Montauk Point Sergeant Ryder of E company passed away. On the voyage from Santiago to Montauk our regiment lost ten, one officer and nine men, and it is no wonder that the Mobile was referred to as a "death ship."