Exploits and adventures of a soldier ashore and afloat

by William Llewellyn Adams

hundred privates and three commissioned officers, was made up of men from various walks of life. Lawyers, athletes, students, merchants, ex-regular-army soldiers, cowboys, and Indians swapped stories around the camp-fires at night. Every day, after the usual routine of duty had been performed, games of all descriptions were indulged in, poker under the shade of an “A” wall tent usually predominating. One of the entertaining features of the camp was a quartette of singers, members of the “Sheridan” and “Governor’s” troops, and ex-members of the University of Pennsylvania Glee Club. These boys were always in demand.

“Broncho buster,” George S. Reed, an ex-Texas ranger, Nome gold miner, and survivor of several duels, the most noted man of the “Governor’s Troop,” had cast his fortunes with the soldier “lay out,” and had boasted that there never was a broncho foaled that he could not cling to. “Broncho’s” debut as an equestrian was to ride a horse we called the “rat,” a bad one. Reed had great difficulty in getting his foot in the

stirrup, as this animal would bite, buck, and kick, and besides held a few tricks in reserve. Finally, taking a desperate chance, “Broncho” swung himself into the saddle and the show was on. The horse plunged, bolted, and bucked, in trying to unseat the rider. When all efforts seemed to have been exhausted, the “rat” bucked, and made a complete somersault, rolling the ranger on the turf, then rising and doing a contortion, wriggled through the saddle girth and blanket, and bolted for the timber. “That horse is mad,” said Reed, brushing the dust from his uniform. “Did you see it loop the loop?” The horse that fell to “Broncho’s” lot was a gentle animal, that could tell by instinct when the canteen was empty, and would stand without hitching at any point where the goods could be supplied.

Each day brought forth news of the mobilization of troops and the progress of the war. Mt. Gretna, an ideal place for a military rendezvous, presented a grand spectacle. Regiments were rigidly disciplined and drilled to the requirements of war, sham battles were fought, galloping horsemen

could be seen repulsing the enemy, while the wild cheering of the infantry in the charge, and the reckless maneuvering of artillery in establishing points of vantage for getting into action, had the aspect of mimic war.

Days rolled by and the troops yearned for active service. The Tenth Pennsylvania Infantry, having received orders to proceed to the Philippine Islands, was the first regiment to break the monotony. There was great activity in breaking camp, and a speedy departure amidst a wild demonstration enthused the boys whose fate lay with the fortunes of war, and whose valiant bravery along the south line, from Bacoor to Manila, will ever remain vivid in the annals of the insurrection.

The news of the departure of the “Rough Riders” for Cuba was heralded with much joy as a forerunner of our getting to the front, also the distribution of regiments to southern camps, where the sons of the “Blue and the Gray” commingled and fraternized as comrades fighting for the same cause, and spun yarns of the bloody strife of the rebellion

in which their fathers had opposed each other in a bitter struggle.

The promulgation of the general order directing our departure for the South was received with cheers. Breaking camp was immediately begun, the loading of horses and equipment on the train being accomplished with the dexterity of a troop of regulars. All along the route the train met with an ovation. There was waving of flags and handkerchiefs, bells were tolled, and the shrill whistles of factories welcomed the boys on to the front. Arriving at Falls Church, Virginia, we at once set to work unloading our horses and accoutrements of war, which was accomplished with almost insuperable difficulty, due to our having reached our destination at night and in a blinding rain-storm.

Among the members of our troop was a Swedish Count, and at this point I recall a little incident which it will not be amiss to relate. We had unloaded our horses and were awaiting orders, when the Count approached me and said: