At this post, brigade headquarters, the troops were housed in bungalow barracks, consisting of the Tenth United States Cavalry (colored), whose gallantry in Cuba in 1898 forever perpetuated the name of this courageous regiment of horse; the Twenty-ninth and Thirtieth regiments of infantry, the last additions to the infantry branch of
the line; a battalion of engineers; numerous batteries of held artillery; and a large detachment of the hospital corps completed the strength of the brigade, which was under the command of Brigadier-General Pershing.
The Twenty-ninth Infantry, in command of Colonel H. K. Bailey, occupied the quarters in the southeast section of the post and nearest to the rifle-range. Each company was quartered separately, in barracks identical with those of the British army in India. These quarters were spacious two-story buildings with large apertures through which the cool currents of air from the China Sea fanned in gentle breeze.
Excellent shower-baths and a laundry, presided over by two Chinese, were valuable adjuncts that contributed to the accommodations of the men. Each morning on awakening, the soldier found, arranged in uniformity under his cot, his several pairs of garrison russet, gymnasium, light marching order, and civilian shoes, polished to a high degree of excellency; placed there by the “Oriental knights of the zapatos,” two
native boot-blacks, employed by the company, and whose duty it was to have every shoe polished before reveille and the sound of the morning gun.
The amusement-hall contained a well-stocked library of the most popular editions, a billiard-table, and a phonograph, so that the rainy season was seldom unwelcomed by the soldier.
Large verandas shaded by clinging vines surrounded these bungalows, and in the evening, when not perambulating with the procession through the health-giving ozone of the Luneta or cajoling the birds at a favorite cockpit, it was a pleasure to lounge in a sedan chair with a mild Manila perfecto, and listen to the entrancing excerpts from some favorite opera, as beautifully rendered by the Twenty-ninth Infantry band.
Fort McKinley is separated from Manila along the riverside “speedway” by seven miles of macadamized road, over which during the dry season vehicles of all descriptions roll, from the two-wheeled caromato to the high-power limousine. This famous driveway is the “Ormond Beach” of the “Far
East,” rivalling in climate and surpassing in beauty the celebrated winter resort of southern Florida. A moonlight ride along this magnificent boulevard is a scene never to be forgotten. On leaving the nippa-roofed bamboo shacks in the barrio of Guadeloupe, you light a cigarette and recline in luxurious ease on the cushions of your rubber-tired “victoria,” drawn by a pair of sleek Australian ponies, their languid movement being in keeping with the wishes of the “cochero,” who regulates his fee by the time consumed in conveyance. The witchery or charm of your entire surroundings is preternatural. The phosphorous ripples of the swift-flowing Pásig on one side seem to emulate the scintillation of the star-bespangled firmament, while, in rivalling contrast on the other, the glow-worm and fire-fly in sheltering palms and over dewy landscape, like the ignis fatuus, seem to mock the luminous glow of the moon.
As the old Santa Anna Cathedral, with its vine-clad balustrades falling to decay, appears in the scene, looming in magnetic amplitude over the verdant foliage of tropical