Introduction
"We Leave Akron"
On the 15th day of Feburary [1898] the battleship Maine was blown up in Havanna harbor. All citizens now agreed that war was inevitable. The nation at once began to make preparations for the unavoidable conflict. Governor Bushnell ordered the captain of our local militia company to recruit his company up from a peace footing of 60 men to a war footing of 100 men. The local company was known as Co. B, 8th. infantry regiment, Ohio National Guard (O.N.G.). I was formerly a member and last spring had received an honorable discharge. But when Captain Feederle issued the call for more men I felt the old military spirit again coursing through my veins. After two weeks of deliberation in company with William N. Spencer I enlisted again in Co. B.
On April 21 war was formally declared between the U. S. and Spain. Excitement ran high in Akron. The fire-bells tolled 13 and the factory whistles blew. Monday evening April 25 I went to the Armory in Conrad Hall to watch the boys drill. At 9:30 the captain received a telegram from Wooster. It was from Colonel Hard, ordering the company to assemble in our armory at 9 a.m. on the morrow, and informing the captain that the entire regiment would be mobilized in Akron at once. Things now began to look decidely warlike.
Tuesday - April 26
I reported at the armory in the morning. We were given the freedom of the city but were ordered not to leave the town. At this time I was a student at Buchtel College and, as I had my lessons already prepared for the day, I attended college and recited in spite of the intense mental excitement. In the afternoon the streets began to fill with soldiers as company after company began to arrive. The incoming soldiers were quartered in the various halls (assembly, Music and Columbia halls). I spent the evening in my own home and managed to get my lessons for the next day.
Wednesday - April 27
I attended college today for the last time. In the afternoon the regiment held "dress parade" on Main street. I found an old uniform around the armory, which I doned. I slept in my own bed that night. Little did I think that Fall would come again before I should have the luxury of a bed again.
Thursday - April 28
We packed our knapsacks and haversacks and marched from our armory to Grace Park behind our own regimental band. Our march was one continuous ovation. At the park we were given a fare-well reception. Among the speakers were Col. Hard, Judge N. D. Tibbals, Mayor Wm E. Young and Judge J. A. Kohler. Prof. N. Glover sang for us an original song entitled "Remember the Maine." We now got on the C.A.&C. cars bound for Columbus and bade long good byes to our relatives and friends. I remember seeing John G. Pope at the depot, Prof. Kolbe my German teacher and Chas. C. Bermer Esq. my old captain.
Amid the fluttering of handkerchiefs and the screeching of locomotive whistles our train pulled out at 10 o'clock. My cousin Carrie Holloway waved to me as the train passed my uncle's back fence. At all the towns along the railroad the people turned out to greet us. At Hillbuck I shook hands with Miss Harriett Duncan, a girl I had met at college. We arrived in Columbus at 3 o'clock and marched to our camp, five miles out E. Broad st. Our reception in Columbus was rather cool, except in the case of an old negro woman who stood on the curb and loudly cheered us. We managed to get our tents up before dark and thus we passed our first night in Camp Bushnell.
"Our Stay at Columbus"
Our camp is called Camp Bushnell in honor of the governor. There are about 10,000 state troops stationed here. The camp is situated in the suburbs in what is known as Bullitt Park Allotment. We can be reached by the Main st. car line. The grounds are lighted by electricity and supplied with the city water. The tents are about 10x11 and furnished with wooden platforms. We are somewhat crowded and sleep as may as 11 in a tent. Some of the boys including the writer were not supplied with overcoats, and we did our best to keep warm by huddling together in the straw.
On Sunday May 1 I was selected to do guard duty. We went on guard at 8.a.m. and were taken off 9.a.m. Monday, thus serving 25 hours. We pace our beat for 2 hours and the spend four hours in the guard house before we take another turn. Our guard line surrounds our entire regiment and we are not allowed to permit soldiers outside of the lines without a pass.
I received a letter from my pastor Rev. C. E. Keller and Chas. Yeomans of Pittsburg. The Y.M.C.A. has opened up at tent for the benefit of the boys and are supplying free reading matter and stationery.
On Friday and Saturday, May 6,7, it rained all day. So our camp ground is very muddy. Sunday the sun came out and began to dry out the ground. We have meat to eat three times a day, with plenty of beans, eggs and rice. The coffee is excellent. Our company has 85 men and it is understood that before we leave for the East it will have to cut down to 70. This will make it necessary to send back 15 men. We are all praying that we will not be of the unlucky 15.
Sunday May 8, our chaplain Rev Kiefer held a Christian Endeavor meeting in the evening. Ed Stroble of our company took a prominent part in the exercises as did Rev. Mrs. King of the Barbertown U. B. Church. Mrs. King is the wife of Corporal King of our company. It is a shame that some of the boys do not know enough to treat decently the ladies that visit us. I have seen many ladies insulted by rowdies. The best of us regret it very much.
While we were at Camp Bushnell I was visited by Doctor E. A. Montenyohl and Rev. Ira Priest of Buchtel College. I saw in the 3rd Ohio Regiment my old college friend Chas. Hill.
On Wednesday May 11 I passed the U.S. physical examination. There is nothing now to hinder my becoming a U.S. soldier except my own volition. Our 1st. lieutenent Harry Blackhorn failed to pass on account of the fluttering of his heart. He will however be allowed to go as he has signed a statement waiving all claims to pensions. The captain told Spencer and me that we would not be sent back to Akron. The 13 boys who were sent back felt very bad and we all felt sorry for them. Among those sent back I remember the names of Christ Vogt, Frank Bordner and Hammeltree.
On Friday May 13 I was mustered into the U.S. service. The ceremony was very solemn and occurred in the afternoon. The bridges are now burned. I cannot turn back, if I would. Company E. drummed out of camp one of their boys who refused to volunteer. Not one of Co. B. boys flinched and all took the oath of allegience without a quiver.
It is very cold. In the daytime we raid the fences of the farmers and build huge fires with the rails. One night Spencer Kraver and I slept in a farmer's barn as we thought it would be warmer. The rats ran all over us but did not bite us.
On Tuesday May 17, we received orders to go to Washington to defend the Capital. Today I went throught the penetentiary and saw Ronuelas Cotell, a prisoner from Summit Co. I also climbed up to the top of the State Capital building. We leave tomorow for the east.
"Eastward Bound"
Wednesday morning of May 18 dawned. Preparations for departure were made. At a signal from the regimental bugler all the tents were dropped, rolled, and packed on wagons. The boys at the command of their officers fell into their places in ranks. With our band at our head we marched out of the old camp ground. The regiments that were left behind thronged the exit and lustily cheered us as we passed.
Our march down E. Broad st. was one continuous ovation. The schools were dismissed. Little children waved tiny flags. As we neared the capital we could hear the booming of the state house cannon. The governor stood bare-headed in the street and greeted each line as they rolled by him.
Somewhat fatigued after our five mile march in heavy marching order, we reached the Toledo & Ohio Central depot on W. Broad st. About noon our battallion on one section of the train pulled out admidst the cheers of the citizens of Columbus.
We spent the afternoon traversing the southern portion of the state. We were now approaching the Ohio river. Ohio scenery never looked so pretty. We were taking a last look at our native state, which some of our boys would never see again.
About dusk we crossed the Ohio river. Perhaps we felt something like Caesar did, when he crossed the Rubican. We thought that now it surely meant business.
Though it was dark the good people of West Virginia turned out royally to greet us and bid us "God speed." People from little towns, at which we did not even stop, lined the tracks, while the village bands played lively airs. Truely the people of this state are patriotic. The colored people of Charleston were out at midnight to see us. So amid the blaze of red fire our train picked its way up the picturesque mountains of West Virginia.
The morning of Thursday May 19 still found us in West Virginia, but on another railroad, the Chespeake & Ohio. We were now scirting the mountains. Now we were passing through a maze of derricks, which are so characteristic of oil regions. Now the track followed some mountain river or passed along dizzy cliffs.
Soon the veiw began to change. We commenced the descent of the mountains. We had crossed the state line and were in Virginia the state of the presidents. Log cabins and negroes abound here in great profusion. The people were not as demonstrative as before. At one city, where we stopped a short time, our band gave the assembled citizens an impromptu serenade. The only piece that provoked any applause was "Dixie."
Our route lay through Mannassa Junction, not far from the battle of Bull Run. At Alexandria we were switched on to another track and hauled back into the country. Across the Potomac the Washington monument and the Capital building loomed up, and the guilded dome of the Congressional library shone with the splender of the afternoon sun.
At Dunn Loring we left the cars and commenced the march toward our future camp. We passed only one hamlet on our way, Merrifield, about two miles from Dunn Loring. From Merrifield it was only a mile to camp. The weather changed and threatened rain. The tents were rushed up, and none too soon.
Friday May 20 was spent in getting camp in some sort of order. Spencer and I sought a tree on a hill to escape the fierce noon-day sun. As we lay in the shade we decided to make a trip on the morrow to the city, before such excursions should be prohibited. The account of the expedition is given in the following chapter.
"The Nation's Capital"
Saturday May 21 is a day I shall never forget. For on that day I made my first visit to Washington. Early in the morning Spencer and I stole 6 hard-tack a piece and slipped out of camp. We took the road to Falls Church, a city about four miles from camp. It was our good fortune to obtain a ride in a wagon that was passing our way.
This was our first opportunity of studying Virginia scenery at our leisure. The landscape was dotted here and there with patches of woodland and hills abounded in all directions. There seemed to be almost no evidence of growing crops. On all sides were stretches of meadow land, which were not unsightly.
Falls Church is a typical southern country town. To a northerner it looks decidedly sleepy. There is an historic church here, whose bricks are said to have been imported from England during colonial times. According to the legend George Washington was once a vestryman in this church.
Falls Church is 8 miles from Georgetown, with which it is connected by both electric and steam lines. We took the former, chiefly because the fare for the round trip was only 25 cents. I asked serveral natives the way to the "street cars." They looked at me with astonishment and said they had no street cars. Finally I asked an obliging citizen for the electric cars. This question was promptly answered. It seems that "trolley cars" are not known as "street cars." The reason was afterwards apparent to me, when I noticed that the electric line owned their own right of way.
It seemed quite a change to get out of this sleepy town and be whisked briskly across the country by the modern agent - electricity. We passed the national cemetary at Arlington, where repose many of the boys in blue.
We were landed on the banks of the Potomac, just opposite Georgtown. We crossed the narrow bridge on foot. Georgetown University is located on a commanding site. This suburb is about two miles from the monument. The streetcar depot here is a beautiful structure.
We started on our walk toward our Mecca, down Pensylvania avenue, after stopping at a livery stable to get a drink of water. We soon crossed the creek which separates the suburb from the city proper.
Pennsylvania avenue is a beautiful street. At one place it widens out and is called Washington square. This little park contains an excellent statue of the immortal George. We paused here for a brief rest.
We were passing by a low white building which impressed me as being the White House. My friend however did not think it was imposing enough for the official residence of the president. A passer-by assured us that I was right. We entered the grounds. A lone policeman in white gloves guarded the entrance to the building. We did not call on his excellency as we were both Democrats and felt that our advice on the conduct of the war would not be appreciated.
Near the Executive Mansion are grouped the buildings of the various departments. While strolling through the War Department we came upon the office of the army pay-master. A passing official asked, "Are you looking for your pay, boys?" With reluctance we admitted that the object of our visit was purely sight-seeing.
Behind the White House extends White Lawn at the further end of which looms up the stately Washington Monument. Young America was busy engaged in playing the national game in several diamonds.
The Washington Monument is over 500 feet high. A slowly moving elevator carried us to the top. We were packed as close as a city street-car. From the summit a magnificent veiw is obtained. Across the Potomac river stretches the Virginian landscape. Below us lies the city of Washington in all its glory. We showed our contempt for the elevator by walking down the stairway. By so doing we were able to examine the multitude of stones presented by the different states and various societies. These all contained inscriptions telling of the great regard of the donors for the Father of his country. The bottom was reached at the same time as the elevator unloaded its mass of humanity. The inside walls of the monument are damp from the collected moisture.
Between the monument and the Capitol building extends a beautiful park. In this park are located the Smithsonian Institute and the National Museum. In the basement of the Institute the printing presses were at work turning out the thousands of circulars containing the results of scientific research and discovery.
One is bewildered by the endless display of relics in these buildings. Stone images from Peru and Central America mingle with the fur clad figures representing the people from Alaska. Relics of the Indians and Mound Builders abound on all sides. Here one sees the student sketching some skeleton or fossel. Here are gigantic engines along side of the primitive machinery. Mummies, stuffed birds, stones and butterflies fill long rows of cases in limitless confusion. It would take weeks, yes months to exhaust these precious store houses of knowledge. We felt weary from sheer sight-seeing. Our very heads ached. I never felt myself so ignorant as when I stood in the presence of so much scientific and historic material, representing so much value and industry, representing all ages and all peoples. It was with a sense of awe I reverently stepped out into the open air again.
Life is real. We were hungry. A nearby market sold strawberries, which we ate with our hard tack. It was very pleasant sitting on a bench under the park trees. A federal office-holder joined us and was very fulsome in his praise of Wm M'Kinley president of the U. S.
What American has not seen pictures of our national Capital? The dome spreading wings and broad steps are as familiar a picture as Niagara Falls. Under one of the domes is a whispering gallery. Standing on a certain spot one can hear whispers from a distance. I happened to stand by accident upon one of the acoustic foci. I heard voices but saw no one near me. Some one at the other focus was evidently having some sport with me. It seems very misterious. I confess I was somewhat startled as I have no faith whatever in the supernatural. I passed on without mentioning the affair to my companion, fearing lest he ridicule the incident as the product of a superstitious imagination. Afterwards I learned from other soldiers to my amusement the nature of the trick that had been played on me.
In the Capitol building are many statues and paintings. I remember one of the latter. It is a picture of the brave Commodore Perry changing flagships during the celebrated battle of Lake Erie. There is also the same picture in the state house at Columbus. I have always been interested in the picture because my old school Geography contained a print of it.
We entered both the Senate Chamber and that of the House. Congress was not in session as it had taken a recess over Saturday. I sat down in one of the Congressman's seats.
For the convenience of our legislators there is a restaurant. Books are brought from the Congressional Library by means of electrical trucks through a tunnel.
We now passed on to the Congressional Library building. It is the prettiest building I ever expect to see. We rode back to Georgetown on the street-car and returned home the same way we came except we did not catch a ride from Falls Church to camp. No one had noticed our absence and so we were not punished for enjoying our holiday and little pleasure trip.
"Camp Alger"
Our camp is named in honor of the Secretary of War. I have thought best to describe our stay here by extracts from letters and postals which I sent home.
Sun. May 22. We have not received a cent of pay yet. There is no post office money order station here. We are encamped on historic ground in Fairfax Co. Virginia, 14 miles from the city. Our camp ground is an old battle ground. We now have sow belly and hard tack. We have bid "good bye" to ham, eggs, butter and such luxuries. We are now sleeping on the bare ground; we have neither a platform nor straw. Yesterday two boys from an Illinois regiement died of typhoid fevre. The country is full of Spanish spies: we are afraid of having the wells poisened. Virginia has a red soil and the forests are numerous. We know absolutely nothing of our future movements.
Mon. May 23. I went to Sunday School yesterday at the Congregational Church at Merrifield.
Wed. May 25. I do not need any more clothing. You must think the soldiers do not have any reading. We get the Journal of Akron besides many other papers.
Fri. May 27. The Journal arrived all right, but I had read the same paper 2 days before it came from you. I inclose a piece of holly which grows wild here. My health is good. Tell Beatrice I will bring her a button, when I come back. We did not pass Harpers Ferry in our trip here. We passed further south going through the heart of Virginia. I send you a postal every day unless I am too busy or tired to write. I have just been on duty for 36 hours. The government has socks and underwear here anytime I want them. Our regiment adjoins the 6th Massachusettes. They have a company from Fitchburg. This regiment was the celebrated one that went through Baltimore in '61 and were mobbed. The boys are on good terms with the Ohio boys. They certainly are a fine lot of boys.
Sat. May 28. May thanks for the map. But please do not send me anything else unless I ask for it. The Y.M.C.A. has the same maps on a larger scale. Fred Housalter died last night. His death seems to be a mystery. We have another boy in the hospital who is very sick. He does not know that Fred is dead.
Mon. May 30. President M'Kinley and his cabinet reviewed us last Saturday. There are now over 20,000 soldiers here from all over the union. Fred Lang of Alliance is with Company K. I went to the Congregational Sunday School at Merrifield yesterday.
May 31, Tues. Yesterday was obserbed by omitting the regular drills. Tomorrow I expect to be on the kitchen detail to help cook. One of our boys, who has been in the hospital since leaving Columbus, has been taken to Fort Meyer hospital.
Wed. Jun 1. Do not be misled by the newspapers. We get enough to eat. While some meals are rather scanty, the majority are all right both in quality and quantity. We have no ham, only "sow belly." I am learning to eat and even like it. I eat only small and well-cooked pieces.
Thurs. Jun 2. Many thanks for the stamps, but we can buy them here. We have sugar now in our coffee occasionally. I have written a letter to my Aunt Anna also to my Uncle Wilbur. Our hospital of course has court plaster. You need not send me anything except letters.
Fri. Jun 3. I neither go barefoot nor have I had my haircut. Have seen a few snakes and many turtles. I am very friendly with the Massachusettes boys but have not found any acquaintaince of Mr. or Mrs. Lamb. I weigh 135 pounds.
Sat Jun 4. We get the Democrat here, I had seen the picture of the arch. No noise or lights are allowed in camp after 9:30 p.m. We get mail on Sundays. We have bread and beans occasionally also potatoes. I was vacinated Thursday. I hope it will work. Today at 12 I got off from 25 hours guard duty.
Sun. Jun 5. We got part of our state pay today. Inclosed you will find a check for $23.00 Any Akron bank where you are known will cash it. Now I want you to use any of the money you need just as if I were eating at home. My vacination is beginning to work. My arm is a little sore. I notice you put too much confidence in what the newspapers say about our camp. The newspapers are as unreliable as ever and contain very little truth. We are worked very hard and have very little leisure. There are no indications that Camp Alger will be abandoned or that we are to leave Camp Alger soon. The "rot" in the Akron papers about the 8th. Regiment of Ohio being the "President's Own," and the "crack regiment of the Union" is disgusting to me. We are no better than our neighbors, the 6th. Massachusettes.
Mon. Jun 6. There are no graybacks in our campany that I know of. Mr. Johnson says that he does not know any Miss Wheeler. I took the medical examination of the N. Y. Life Insureance Co. today. I do not know the result. It is thought now our destination is Porto Rico.
Tues. Jan 7. Beileve me, we have enough to eat. I did not go to war to eat chocolate cake, so I do not miss it. Do not send me any money, have more than I need. I do not think the army will be disbanded until several months after peace as the government is so slow. We expect to to Jacksonville, Florida, inside of 3 weeks.
Wed. Jun 8. There is an artesian well near our regiment, but some of the regiments have to walk several miles for a drink. I am in need of nothing at present and am in excellent health. My arm is working nicely. No privates are going back to Akron from our company.
Thur. Jun 9. Do not be tricked into sending any money to any fake "Identification Bureau" for tags for me to wear. I write this so as to put you on your guard. I keep track of Jupiter and the Pole star. My arm does not interfer with my drills in the least. I have had the hair clipped from my head, but not shaved. I think Miss Angel is wrong about my locating abroad in case we are ordered out of the country. It would take a pretty good position to tempt me to leave my home at Akron for good. At any rate I would want you with me. I was appointed on the Engineering Corps on account of my knowledge of Mathematics. It will please Prof. Egbert. Our duties will consist of surveying camps, laying out roads, building bridges, estimating and calculating distances. It looks more like Porto Rico than the Philipines just now. There is no doubt but what the Captain prefers college students and law students. I am still in the same mess with Mr. Spencer and see no sign of a change. You can tell "Jill" that we have not had any eggs since we have been in camp. I do not think there is any more pay in the Engineering Corps. At present I am getting $15.60 per month. The headquarters have stopped the sale of beer, pies, lemonade on or near the camp. So those boys who have been buying their lunches will have to eat government food or starve. We expect to get our government pay soon. No new orders at the present writing.
Fri. Jun 10. We received part of our government pay yesterday.
Sat. Jun 11.
Sun Jun 12. The Chicago regiment is camped over 2 miles from us. Mr. Robinson was taken sick last night. We hope that his stay in the hospital will be short. I have as yet done no work on the engineering corps.
Mon Jun 13. Many thanks for the cake - the boys say it is the best they ever ate. Mr. Robinson has diptheria and has been move to Division Hospital. I gave the pie tin to the cook and we use the pan for a wash basin. I do not have a chance to go to the city and Alice Harper has not been out to see me. Thank Mrs. John Motz for the bread and apple butter she sent me.
Tues Jun 14 I have written to Mrs. Motz. They are selling beer again on the grounds. Mail is delivered on Sundays right to our tents, same as any other day. Sunday drills will hereafter be omitted in the camp. I expect to stay here some time.
Thur. Jun 16. We would like nothing better than rain, it would cool the air some. I am not using tobacco. I have no earthly use for a rubber pillow and could not give it away, if you would send me one. We have too much to carry now. We all enjoyed the honey cakes. The indentification tags are a fake. Don't order any, the government furnishes these.
Sat. Jun 18. Again I tell you those "Identification Co.'s" are fakes. Leave them alone. We are provided with identification cards. The cake was in good condition.
Mon Jun 20. Mr. Chas. Jepson of our church is among the recruits. You must have been reading the papers again - we have not been at Ball's Bluff. The 6th Mass. celebrated Bunker Hill day and we drilled as usual. Do you remember a S. O. Graser of Akron? We will probably go to Fernandina, Fla. Do not believe the papers.
Tues Jun 21. What on earth do I want of a pillow? I did not use one at home. If I get sick, the hospitals are well supplied - the newspapers to the contrary. The boys including myself are throwing away things. They have taken our knapsacks away from us. My arm is getting well.
Wed Jun 22. I wish you would not get excited every time you read something in the newspapers or someone tells you something. I will keep you posted. You shall learn the news from me first. Don't you believe those stories about the hospitals.
Thurs Jun 23. Tell Carrie that Mr. Geasel called me and brought me some chicken and cake. It was very good of him. Don't you suppose we have blotters here? There is nothing you can send me. You get a postal every day from me unless I am too tired or busy. When I am on guard duty for 36 hours or so, I simply can't write. They will not let you off. Our Chaplian died this morning.
Fri. Jun 24. It looks as though we would go to Newport News, Va. Funeral sevices of our Chaplain were held yesterday. Co. D fired 8 volleys over his corpse.
Sat. Jun 25. We had a sham battle yesterday with blank cartridges. Mr. Johnson spreads himself a little in his articles. My postals will keep you posted.
Sun Jun 26. I passed the physical examination fo the N.Y. Life Ins. Co. But the company has not granted me a policy as yet. We have to roll up everything in our blanket. Each man also has 1/2 of a tent to carry. We do not want 1 thing more than absolutely necessary. Mr. Jepson spent last evening with me. Luther Rood did not go home. Do not tell all your troubles to Miss Shaffer.
Tues. Jun 28 '98 We marched to the Potomac yesterday (14 miles) and had a swim. We marched back this morning. One of the 6th Illinois boys was drown yesterday in the Potomac. My arm is healed.
Wed Jun 29. I have seen Miss Shaffer. But I do not think she has seen me. Did I tell you that I had seen Mr. Harper and Lena? Although we just returned yesterday from our long march in the boiling sun (over 100 degrees in the shade) carrying 1 poncha, canteen, 20 cartridges, haversack with 3 meals and cooking utensils, gun, 1/2 tent, 1 blanket, 6 tent poles (about 40 lbs), we are drilling this morning.
Thurs Jun 30. It looks now as though we would get marching orders for Dunn Loring and Newport News, Va. by Saturday. I shook hands with Mr. John Weber and also with George Lieber when they were here. I was on guard last night and am on today. I am writing this postal in the time alloted me for breakfast.
Fri July 1. Carrie's friend Mr. Grasel remembered me again last night with some chicken and cake. We do not sleep cold but hot. They took our overcoats away from us, for which we are thankful. Only those who are on guard take part in "Guard Mount" besides the band and buglers. If I was not on guard the day the picture was taken, I will not be in it of course.
Sat July 2. I sent you today my insurance policy. I hope you may never have occasion to receive the money. We all have been supplied with stomach protectors, made of wool. We were not at Ball's Bluff. Why will you keep believing what you hear and read? I have been cutting wood and digging ditches all day till now (3:30)
Jul. 3. It is very hot here. They say it reaches 109 degrees in our tents and 120 degrees on the drill fields. Two Pennsylvania boys were shot last night by the provost guard and from what I can hear they are either dead or fatally wounded. The boys were trying to run the guard line. Some say they were going home (Penn) to spend the Fourth. As soon as the news reached camp that some boys were shot by the guard, the bugle sounded the night alarm and we were all tumbled out of "bed" to answer roll-call, but fortunately none of our boys were missing. This relieved the strain somewhat and we went back to bed knowing that our comrades were all safe and well. The boys did not sleep very well last night, partly on account of the night alarm; the booming of the distant guns of the guard, carrying death in their leaden missles to pehaps some of our own company, and partly on account of the rumors of the fearful losses of the Americans that were fighting at Santiago. Whenever a guard hollers "halt" at me, you can depend upon it "I halt." If we lose our lives in Cuba or Porto Rico it will be impossible to transport our remains, as the government has enough on its hands. Capt. Feedesle is the agent through which I transact my business with the N.Y. Life Ins. Co. Now Auntie I want you to use freely all the money that you have of mine and that I shall send you in the future. Nothing would displease me more that for you to act on any other course. You seemed surprised that I remain in such good health. Now I want it distinctly understood that I am not an invalid and that I have passed successfully every physical examination. Inclosed you will find a little picture of our mess. The first on the right is Dan Lillich - a widower from Canton. No. 2 is your humble servant. No. 3 is Chas Kraver a German. No. 4 is Will Bordner an old Sunday School friend of mine. No. 5 is Robert Bowman a law student from Medina. No. 6 with magazine in hand is Will Spencer. We use the wire between the tents as a clothes line. As you can see, our carpet and chairs are pure red Virginia dirt. The sun was just setting. My own picture is darker as I sat further in the tent. Now is this not a nice long letter?
Mon. July 4. Keep the pamphlet of the N.Y. Life. It might be a good plan for you to keep these postals. As they will form a nice history of the war, after it is all over. It now looks like we would leave next Friday on the Yale. We are celebrating the Fourth with blank cartridges.
Tues. July 5. The story now is that we leave today or tomorrow for New York to take the St. Paul for Cuba. I do not think the College will send any grades. When we received yesterday the news of the capture of Cervera, we had a great time - all the bands were playing, all of us were shooting blanks as fast as we could load.
your loving nephew
"Ordered to New York"
The long expected orders came at last. The boys who were left behind cheered us as we marched out of Camp Alger. We took the road to Dunn Loring about dusk on Tuesday July 5. We arrived at Dunn Loring at dark, where we waited until midnight for our train to Jersey City. We arrived in Jersey City on Wednesday noon, having passed through the cities of Baltimore, Philadelphia and Wilmington.
We were quickly ferried across North river and marched to the wharf where the St. Paul was lying with her war paint on. Although the regiment was closely guarded, a few of us managed to slip out and see a little of the metropolis and make a few purchases.
In coming back to the dock I was greeted by my cousin Harry Holloway, Misses Gifford, Stockman, Jewett and Mr. Arthur Fostor. The latter was an old college friend, a graduate of '97. The ladies were formerly teachers in Buchtel College.
"Cruiser St. Paul"
A host of dock-hands were busily engaged in loading the ship. Large boxes of hard-tack, 13-in. shells for Sampson's fleet and such paraphernalia of war were being hoisted on board.
Captain Ligsbee, who commanded the illfated Maine, was the commander of the St. Paul. He made a short appearance and was greeted with loyal cheers.
At 5 o'clock orders came to go aboard. In single file we walked up the gang plank. There was no turning back now. We were on board the auxiliary cruiser St. Paul bound for Cuba. Our battallion was quartered in the second-class cabins. Spencer, Bordner and myself obtained a cabin with a port hole, through which we could get a little air and light.
A mail boat was busy loading mail on board, some was intended for the fleet and some for Shafter's army. I hurriedly wrote a postal saying a last "good bye" to home and handed it out the port hole.
At dusk everything was on board. The gang planks were removed. The tugs that were to tow us attached themselves. We commenced to move so slowly at first as to be almost imperceptable. Slowly but surely we moved out toward the open harbor. I shall never forget the last sight of that wharf. The departures of all steamships are impressive, this one especially so. The people crowded the shore. I can see their waving handkerchiefs now. We were leaving our native land, many of us never to return, some neither dead nor alive. By means of search lights we picked our way through the sub-marine mines out into the open sea. Many thoughts filled my mind as I lay in my bunk listening to the "swish-swash" of the waves against the side of our good ship. All this on Wednesday evening July 6. "On the Broad Atlantic"
Parts of my diary are given in this chapter. Thursday morning of July 7 dawned. We are surrounded on all sides by the green ocean. The sky seems to touch the water.
Friday, July 8. Weather is fair, neither land nor ships are in sight. Our course is almost due south-ward. I have not been a bit sea-sick.
The St. Paul carries 8 large 5-in. guns besides a number of smaller rapid firing guns. The boat presents quite a martial appearance with 1300 infantry men on board besides a number of Marines who stay on board all the time.
Saturday, July 9 The southen waters are of a blue color. Many sea-swallows follow in the wake of the vessel. I also saw some sea-gulls flying before a storm.
There are plenty of flying fish - a great curiosity. They really fly as well as swim. Have seen porposes ten feet long. Some of the boys have seen sharks. I observed the "spout" of a whale, but could not see the animal itself.
We are in the Gulf Stream - plenty of seaweed. We sighted San Salvador - the island Columbus first discovered. We are passing through the Bahama Groupe. There are many little white coral islands.
This afternoon we sighted a large steamer. The captain and crew are eager for prize money. The decks were cleared for action and the guns were loaded. These precautions were taken, should the stranger prove to be a Spanish war ship. On the last trip south, the St. Paul sunk a torpedo boat off the coast of Porto Rico. It was a pretty sight to see the gunners standing with the torch lights in their hand waiting the command to fire. Nearly all of our guns were brought to bear upon the unknown. It however proved to be a U. S. Hospital ship, returning from Cuba with many of the soldiers who were wounded in the fierce fighting of July 1 and 2. Most of us were disappointed in the nationality of the boat. We would have enjoyed a little set-to at any rate we would have liked the excitement of showing the enemy a clean pair of heals. The St. Paul is one of the fastest boats afloat, being once used as a Transatlantic liner.
They tell us that tomorrow we shall sight the coast of Cuba. I have a sort of a feeling that something momentous is about to happen.
"In Sight of Cuba"
It is Sunday morning July 10. We are crowding the deck. Are those banks of gray on our right really the shores of Cuba or mearly clouds? The sailors tell us that it is Cuba. We have indeed struck the north-east corner of the "Pearl of the Antilles."
The sun is rising. Now we can distinctly make out the shore. The hedlands show their out-line very plainly on the tropical sky.
What a thrill passed through me as I gazed? How many nights I had lain awake thinking of this time when I should see the oppressed land of Cuba!
We skirted the coast till we arrived at the south-eastern extremety of the isle. From this point Porto Rico is but a short distance, the straight being known as the "Windward Passage."
We rounded the promotory. We were now sailing westward, still keeping in view of the coast.
We could see several of the blockading squadron, patrolling the shore. Signals were interchanged. As soon as the fleet learned that we had mail from the U. S. on board, they all crowded around us. From each war-ship a small boat was lowered into which our sailors dumped the well filled mail sacks. This was an excellent chance to see the celebrated North Atlantic squadron at close range. The Brooklyn, Texas and Wilmington came very near. Their battle-scarred sides gave evidence of the severe cannonading to which they had been subjected at the hands of Cevera's fleet and the guns of Morro Castle.
Commodore Schley was on board the Brooklyn. To him Capt. Ligsbee reported by means of the megaphone that he had 1300 reinforcements for Shafter and a quantity of supplies for the fleet. Schley ordered the St. Paul to proceed to Siboney at once and to commence unloading the infantry from the Buckeye state.
Siboney is a cove in the shore-line about 12 miles east of Santiago harbor. It had but recently been captured by the American army and was the nearest port to the doomed city in our possession.
On account of the shallowness of the water we were compelled to anchor 2 miles from the shore. There were a score or more of transports riding at anchor on all sides of us, most of them were from Tampa.
I noticed a mail box on board the St. Paul. It occured to me to write home. For it looked as though we were to be immediately hurried into battle, and it might be my last opportunity. The Captain had some money deposited in New York and I bought a draft from him for $10.00 which I also mailed.
All the ship's boats were lowered and the disembarkation was commenced in earnest. The sailors had to row the boats in a heavy sea and so the work progressed rather slowly. All of the 1st battallion were landed on Sunday afternoon.
The sailors when they returned from their trips to and fro tried to frighten us with blood-curdling stories how the 1st. battallion under Major Vollrath had all been cut to pieces. But not a man in the regiment wavered or showed the white feather.
The shore is a mountain whose summits tower above the clouds. I watched a storm in the mountains above us. I can make out a railroad on the shore and 2 block-houses on 2 peaks.
We can not see the city of Santiago itself as it stands back from the coast about 8 miles. But Morro Castle at the entrance of the harbor is in plain view.
About dusk we were treated to a sight that occurs only about once a life time. The fleet commenced the bombardment of Moro Castle. The maneuvering of a fleet of war vessels is a pretty sight. I stood on the deck till night watching the flashes of the big guns.
To-morrow the other 2 battallions will land. The 1st. battallion is probably camping on the plains of Cuba, for I do not believe the stories of the sailors. It seems as though events were rapidly hurrying us on to our destiny.
"Landing at Siboney"
(Monday Morning, July 11)
The fleet is bombarding again. First Sargeant Walkup gave each man 100 rounds of ammunition, the entire weight of which is 10 lbs. Our belts will only hold 50 rounds, so we have to put the remaining half in our haversacks.
Each man was instructed to take 3 days' provisions in his haversack. This was out of the question as our haversacks were already half full of Springfield cartridges. I took a can of baked beans and as many hardtack as I could squeeze in the now well filled haversack. Some of the boys took a can of corned beef, others a can of tomatoes.
The sailors had rigged a stairway, leading down the outside of the boat. We rolled all our belongings in our blankets and threw these rolls over our shoulders. The entire weight of our trappings was about sixty pounds.
We stood along the deck, meekly waiting our turn to descend to the small boats which were constantly returning from the shore. At last it came my turn. With my rifle in one hand I cautiously descended the wet and slippery stairway.
The sea was somewhat high and I waited on the bottom step until the rolling of the waves would bring the ship's boat directly under me. For should one miss the boat his chances of rescue would be small as he would be weighted down by his equipment. I made the jump and landed safely. I understand only 2 of Shafter's entire army were drowned in the landing.
In our little boat were crowded 25 soldiers besides the half a dozen sailors who were to do the rowing. The high waves tossed the little boat like a toy in the grasp of the mighty ocean.
The violent rolling of the boat made several of the boys sea-sick who had not been previously on the big boat.
We landed at a little wharf which some soldiers had not entirely completed. There was a land battle the day before and one was in progress on this day. The wounded were being brought in from the front. The sight of the mangled bodies, some minus arms and legs, was awful. But such is war.
I was glad when the order came to march up the railroad track a little ways. So we left the bloody sight behind. The gave us an hour for dinner, which we ate sitting on the railroad track. Spencer bought a cocoanut and a box of cigarettes from a native, the latter were much stronger than those sold in the U. S.
While we were waiting for orders we strolled around taking in what there was to see. It was my first view of tropical scenery of which the palm trees are so characteristic. There are only a few houses or rather huts of the Cubans located in Siboney.
A word here on the pronounceation of Siboney. Nearly all of the soldiers there and in our regiment pronounce it "Se-bo'-ne" with the accent on the 2nd. syllable. I notice some people in the U. S., even those who have been in Cuba, pronounce it "Sib-en-nay'." If prevalence rules, the fomer is the correct way.
Spencer started to enter a native hut, but the cry of "yellow fevre" sent him back in haste.
The narrow gauge railroad runs to Santiago but our troops have possession of this end only. The little engine and cars look very funny to one accustomed to the large engines of the Erie railroad. The Spaniards when they left Siboney hid serveral of the essential parts of the locomotive. But the ingenious mechanics, always found among the American soldiers, either found those parts that were concealed or contrived substitutes to take their place. It was but a short time when Yankee engineers were running the engine. The engine went by us. The engineer and fireman were both in army uniform with their rifles handy for cases of emergencies.
Siboney is made a depot for the storage of the American supplies which are sent to the front by pack trains. There is a post-office here known as "Military Station No 1." Spencer bought a money order and sent it home. We walked up the railroad track to where the 33rd. and 34th Michigan were guarding some Spanish prisoners. The prison was only an open field surrounded by a barb-wire fence, outside of which the sentries paced. The poor fellows had almost no shelter but they were wellfed and so did not try to escape. They wore suits of faded blue and did not seem to possess much ambition. The daily rains forced a certain degree of clenliness upon them.
We now went back to where the regiment was assembling to see what the orders were.
"Forced March to Sevilla"
(Monday afternoon July 11)
The regiment was drawn up along the railroad track. The 1st. battallion which had camped Sunday night on the hillside joined us. We were all standing in heavy marching order, which means that you have all your earthly possessions on your person. Our faces were Santiagoward and we waited the command to march.
Col. Hard rode along the line. In a few minutes the command "Forward, march!" came. We had been ordered to the front to relieve the troops who were weary of working in the trenches under the tropical sun.
The regimental officers being mounted and not encumbered with baggage set the pace, and such a pace as they set. We were compelled to almost run to keep our places in line.
We left the railroad and crossed a creek over a bridge. I mention the fact of the bridge because it was the first, last and only bridge we saw in Cuba. In the creek was the carcas of a dead mule. It was not the last dead mule we saw and smelled, however.
Our trail now struck off up the broad and flat valley which leads to the city. The high and steep mountains closed us in on each side.
At about 2 miles from Siboney we came to where the rough riders had made their gallant fight. Several graves were seen at our right. A plain board with the simple inscription, "Resta in pace," and the name of the hero was all the monument that marked their resting places. But their deeds are indelibly engraved in the memories of the American people. We did not have time to loiter here, but we paused a moment without orders.
Numerous and many colored land crabs scrambled out of our path into the cacti, through which our bridle path had been cut. Now it began to rain, and soon we and all our belongings were thoroughly wet. The rain came down in torrents, the road was so slippery that we could with difficulty maintain our rapid gait.
We stood to one side every now and then to let an ambulance pass, bringing the wounded from the firing line to the rear. The poor bleeding fellows were jolted in a frightful manner.
We passed several shacks of the native Cubans. They were merely palm leaves, leaned against a ridgepole. The muddy earth was their only floor and the "leanto" contained absolutely no furniture. It is a wonder how the people of this oppressed island drag out their wretched existence. All children under 14 years are naked.
We passed the ruins of a house, an old sun dial could still be seen on part of the wall that was still standing.
At dusk we arrived at Sevilla. As it was getting dark and the road ahead was a sea of mud the colonel ordered us to halt and to pitch tents for the night.
"First Night in Cuba"
(Monday Evening, July 11.)
We managed to pitch our tents in the dark and we succeeded in selecting a nice swamp for that purpose. The tent is known in official circles as a "shelter tent," but the boys call it a "pup tent." It is three feet high and about the size of an ordinary dog kennel. It is made in two sections and each man carries one-half of a tent. Will Spencer and I buttoned our halves together and so made one complete tent. The material of the tent is of light weight and of poor quality and will not shed water as we discovered in due season. As the tent is only 5 feet long our feet stuck out in the rain, but this did not make any difference for the tent leaked like a sprinkling wagon and the water was two inches deep on the ground. We passed the night like drowned rats, but were so tired that we really did sleep some.
"Sevilla"
The morning of Tuesday July 12th was gloomy. Our food consisted of whatever rations we had brought from the ship. A can of meat was worth $1.25 and hard tack could not be bought.
This place had at one time been a small village and is still known as Sevilla. On the walls of a ruined house an old fashioned sun dial is still visible. Some dismantled machinery marks the site of a former sugar mill.
From this point I will give the narrative by inserting extracts from my letters to my Ohio home.
Tues, July 12th, '98. Our little shelter tents are pitched in the mud amid cacti, scorpions and tarantulas. The mangrove grees are abundant. The fruit is yellow and delicious. It resembles our northern paw-paw. It has rained all day. General Miles passed through our camp on his way to the front. Some of the native Cubans are living skeletons.
Wed, July 13. We are still in the same camp, trying to dry our wet clothes. Everything is wet, even my money and my father's bible. The Spaniards much resemble the Cubans, at least those of the prisoners that I have seen. We have a mountain brook for fresh water. I shall try to mail this letter today, if possible. I shall have to ask some cavalryman on his way to Siboney to mail it for me. My present address "Siboney, Cuba, via Key West." I inclose a leaf from far-away Cuba.
x x x x
We are encamped five miles from Santiago and six miles from Siboney. We are kept busy between showers trying to dry our clothes and boiling water. I mailed you a letter this morning. The band dried out enough to play a few airs this evening. It was a strange sight - the old Akron band playing amid such strange surroundings. The natives looked on with wonder. The Cubans regard us as their friends; for we share our hard tack with them.
Thurs. July 14. This morning we moved our camp a mile nearer the front, where we are guarding the commissary department. We are now four miles from the doomed city of Santiago. I climbed a hill where I could see the city and hear the guns of the fleet pounding away at Morro Castle. The mountain near us is covered with rifle pits abandoned by the Spanish. I am sleeping on a bed made from bamboo.
On our march this morning we crossed a creek. As there was no bridge, we had to wade it. The boys plunged in and did not mind it. But the officers did not like it. But they do not live any higher than we do now. They dare not ride horses or mules, for fear the Spanish sharp-shooters will pick them off. For the same reason they have taken off their stripes and ensignia of rank. The news came this evening that Santiago had surrendered. Most of the boys were glad, but some were sorry that we did not have a hand in it.
Fri. July 15. Spencer and I walked to the city. Our road lay through swamps and creeks. The road was lined with the graves of the brave soldiers, who had fallen, from colonels to privates. Seventy are buied near our camp. The would not let us enter the city on account of the yellow fevre, raging there. The American lines completely surround the city. It is no wonder they surrendered. But to capture the hills in the first place, especially San Juan, cost us and the Cubans under General Garcia many lives. We could see cartridges - Spanish, U. S. regular, and Militia Springfield by the bushel. I stood on the ramparts of San Juan hill near a block house and looked down on the city. It is a pretty city. The buildings are white.
It is a good thing that none of the officers' wives came. For they simply could not have stood the hardships. What woman can sleep in a mud puddle as we do many nights? Following is a map of the city and our camps.
The American lines around Santiago are in the shape of a horse shoe - thus
Inclosed you will find a piece of cactus plant, very common here. Yesterday and today there were rumors of peace between the U. S. and Spain.
Saturday, July 16, '98 We cooked our breakfast with mahogony wood. If peace is not declared and perhaps if it is, we are to go to Porto Rico soon - This is the story we hear. I have not had a drink of cold water since we left the States.
x x x x
I mailed you a letter this morning. It will have to travel 2,000 miles to reach you. Today I worked in the Commissary Department, loading and unloading pack trains. I can now appreciate the expression "as stubborn as a government mule." There certainly cannot be a more aggravating creature. The profanity of the mule drivers is awful. The unburied carcases of dead mules cause a stench that reminds one of a glue factory.
Sun. July 17. We changed our camp today. We are now on a hill in full sight of the city. The surrender cermonies took place today. There are miles of barb-wire which the Spanish have strung across the country. They must have thought we were cattle. The Americans are blowing up the mines in the harbor. We can hear the reports plainly.
"El Caney"
Mon. July 18. Today we walked to the city of El Caney, 5 miles north of Santiago. You can find it on your map. The houses are all of one story facing a large square. The ceilings are very high and the roofs are of tyle. There is an old church that has seen better days. The church and an old fort are occupied by American troops. The square is reeking with filth. The town has been the asylum of refugees fom the besieged city, but today they were returning. Some were riding but most of them were walking.
Tues. July 19. The Commissary has been moved to the city. We remain in our present location because it is healthy. Some of the boys are sick, but not more than usual. I have seen the "rough riders" and the Lieut-Colonel Theodore Roosevelt. We have no drills or dress parades now, only guard and fatigue duty. Some of our company were put to burying the dead of a hospital. There are cactus plants here between 40 and 50 feet high. There are still rumors of peace. We have no orders to move anywhere. Address your letters to Santiag de Cuba.
x x x x x x x
I mailed you a letter today. Will Spencer, who has just returned from El Caney, reports that the public square is full of dead refugees, who have died of disease, hunger and hardships. Will lost his haversack on the trip.
Wed. July 20. Will and I climbed high up in the mountain. We got caught in a storm and were soaked to the skin. When we got back to our tent, we found everything wet. I did not have a dry thing to my name. We managed to sleep the best we could in our wet blankets.
Thurs. July 21. We are spending the morning drying out our things in the hot sun. Even our paper money had to be spread out to dry. Some of the boys have tame parrots and are teaching them English. We saw some wild parrots in the mountains today. This afternoon and evening I spent "where the bullets were thickest," guarding the ammunition depot.
Fri. July 22. I slept for 6 hours last night on 5,000 rounds of ammunition. It was a dark night and the 4 hours I stood guard were lonely. I was almost eaten up by the mosquitoes. I enclose a leaf from a common tree. There are rumors of our going back to the states soon.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
There are two dead mules near the ammunition depot. The buzzards or vultures are eagerly devouring them. These birds hover over the battle fields and pounce down upon the unlucky soldier who receives a death wound.
Sat, July 23. there are not as many snakes here as I expected; but the island is overlfowing with lizzards. However I do not fear to go barefoot.
Sun. July 24. You are the only person in the States to whom I write, as most people do not want to get mail from the yellow fevre district. But I know that you are willing to take the risk. Will and I walked down to Siboney today and had a nice sea-bath. Ther is a barge wrecked on the rocks. We swam out to the ship and clamored all over it. Today is Sunday. It is raining now. Mr. Chas. Jeppson is in my tent. We are talking about the Luther League. He is reading my Bible, while I am writing this.
Mon. July 25. Some Akron papers arrived by mail today. The boys are eagerly devouring them. Some fresh beef has arrived from Santiago - the first since Camp Alger that we have had.
Our nation cannot put ourselves on a par with Spain by abusing Spanish prisoners. True greatness is returning good for evil. The boys who saw Hobson say he was looking well.
Tues. July 26. I am lacking nothing that you can send me. My picture makes me look poorer than I really am, as I was sitting in the shaddow. I am sure that I have lost no weight. As the time the picture was taken I did not know I was to have one of them, or I would have smiled for your benefit. I have made other arrangements with the Insurance Co. As my health has been so good I have concluded to take the risk. So if I die while in Cuba you will get only $15.68 I am not using tobacco in any form. Remember me to all of my friends in Akron. I have not space for all of their names. We do not know Shafter's intentions regarding the Eighth. It is the same old story of lying here without orders.
Perhaps you would be interested in knowing what I had for supper last night. Yesterday noon I put some rice to soak. I boiled several pieces of lean beef in the rice until both were well done. I used my large guard army cup for this purpose. Then I broke a hard tack up in small pieces, seasoned with salt and pepper. It tasted like your rice soup and the boled hard tack resembled your noodles. We have not had any bread since we left Camp Alger and no butter since Camp Bushnell. We still continue to use mahogany and bamboo for fire wood. Mr. Jeppson has made me a little cross out of mahogony
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I mailed you a letter today. Some of the boys have found lemons on the mountains.
Wed. July 27. Nelson and Sprague are very sick. Besides our company, Co E, K, & G are with us. The 1st and 2nd battallions are camped on another hill about two miles away.
Thurs. July 28 '98. You might send me a copy of the Cleveland Leader or Plain Dealer occasionally. Our guard line is very strick. They will not allow the boys off from the hill or to have any communications with the Cubans. Ther are two hospitals near us. Our battallion has the unpleasant task of burying their dead.
Fri. July 29. One of Co. K boys died last night of typhoid. We climbed a mountain peak today, going above the clouds. We could see the ocean over the mountains, ten miles away. We could see the ships in Santiago harbor. As usual we got caught in a storm. I climbed a tall cocoa-nut tree and got 5 cocoanuts. When we got back I had to go on guard, although I was tired and wet.
Sat. July 30. We received our mail again this morning. It puts the boys in good humor. There are rumors again of our going back to the States soon. Do not believe the newspapers. I thank you for the stamps. I am in the best of health.
xx xx xx xx xx
I mailed you a letter today. We have the same house flies here, that annoy us at home. They are more numerous and seem to bite harder.
Sun. July 31. Nearly half the boys are sick. Our camp looks like a hospital.
Mon. Aug 1. There are three dead in the other battallions. Poor Arthur Nelson of our company died this evening of dysentery.
Tues. Aug 2. we buried Nelson this morning. It is a shame that the boys are not given a decent funeral. They are simply dumped into the ground. They do not even blow "taps" on the bugle or shoot over the grave. THe death rate in the other battallions is two a day.
Wed. Aug 3. Spencer and I spend our time taking care of the sick. The scenes around camp are awful. It rains all the time. The sun does not come out enough to dry things. Out of 8 men detailed for guard duty only three are able to crawl out from their damp tents. It is a pitiful sight to see our comrades, tottering around some falling down, some being led, some carried on stretchers and so many not able to rise
Thurs. Aug 4. The sickness and deaths do not grow better. Out of 900 men in the other battallions 600 are sick. Our battallion is somewhat better. It is the worst experience I have ever been through. Spencer tells me I never looked better. I only hope our health may continue till the dry season, October 1st 1898.
x x x
I mailed you a letter this morning and this evening received mail from you. I see by the date of your letters that it takes them about 2 weeks to get here. My throat was not been sore since we have been on the island. The thunder in the mountains cracks like cannon. If I get sick, I will have Mr. Spencer write to you.
Fri. Aug 5. I have seen bannana trees only at a distance and no orange trees whatever, though some of the boys have. I have no desire to stay in this country. I appreciate the good opinion my friends have of me and will try to be worthy of it. Sat. Aug 6. There was a tarantula in our tent last night, but I was too sleepy to pay it any attention.
Sun. Aug 7. Our new Chaplain has visited this battallion and prayed for our sick.
Mon. Aug 8. Will went to the city this morning. As I was not feeling very well I did not take the risk. Will however succeeded in getting through the guard line into the city. He returned in the evening soaking wet but said he enjoyed the trip.
Tues. Aug 9. Inclosed you will find a part of the cover of a box of soda papers Will bought in Santiago for me. So you can have some genuine Spanish printing from the now celebrated city of Santiago. As usual we have no orders
x x x
I mailed you a letter this morning. When you acknowledge the receipt of a check always name the amount. I loaned a comrade $2[.]00 this evening.
Wed. Aug 10. I received mail from you today.
"The City of Santiago"
Thurs. Aug 11. We changed our camp today, moving up to the outskirts of the city. We are now about a mile from town. The march was a severe one, having to cross 6 creeks and the roads being deep with mud. I do not know the object of the change.
Fri. Aug 12. We are camped between what was the American and Spanish firing lines. The ground is covered with bullets. In a trench near here are buried several hundred dead Spaniards. The dirt is but loosely thrown on; the stench is terrible. The road to the center of the town runs by our camp, but the guard line is strick. This chicken, for one, intends to take no risks. The punishment, if caught, is very severe. Feederle and Rutherford are sick. Blackburn is detailed on the Commissary. First Sergeant Walkup is acting as Captain. Most of the sick are improving
Sat. Aug 13. We are simply deluged with rain this afternoon.
Sun. Aug 14. We can hear the chimes from the cathedral. I received mail from you today. It would seem kind of strange to sit in a rocking chair once more.
x x x
Do not decorate your envelopes with such nonsense as "1st divison, 2nd army corps." For we belong to neither that division nor corps. I am glad Mr. Marsh has paid. I am not getting any keepsakes. I have all I want to carry. Do not spend so much time worrying about our food. We always have had all we wanted. Since we were in Cuba we have been in two in a tent or mess. We use little dog tents now.
Tues. Aug 16. This evening we broke camp and marched through the city to the pier. We left our little tents behind. Willford of Co. B died last night.
"Santiago Harbor"
Wed. Aug 17. We slept last night on the wharf. I spent the morning taking in the sights of the city. In the afternoon we were marched on board the lighter "Tarpon," which carried us out in the harbor. We were transferred to the transport Mohawk, which boat I trust will land us safely in the States.
Thurs. Aug 18. I was fortunate enough to find a hammock last night. So I think I shall pass the voyage very comfortably
. Fri. Aug 19. Last night we commenced our long trip. We sailed out through the neck of the harbor past the sunken Spanish warships and our own Merrimac, whose masts and smokestack are still above water. As we turned into the ocean we passed the crumbling walls of old Morro Castle with the American flag flying proudly from her turrets. "The Atlantic Again"
Sat. Aug 20. We have gone through the Windward Passage and are now on the broad Atlantic again.
Sun. Aug 21. As nothing of interest occured today I will give a few notes on Santiago.
The city is built upon a hill. All the streets are narrow with open sewers. They are paved with cobble stones. The sidewalks are so narrow that two cannot pass. The houses are painted many colors, so the city presents quite a gay appearance. Most of the buildings are of two stories, except the Cathedral, Governor's Palace and the Hotel, "Club de Don Carlos." The upper stories are inclosed with shutters; the first floors have iron gratings with wooden shutters inside. Very little or no glass is used in the construction.
Mon. Aug 22. We buried at sea one of the boys of Co. E. today
Tues. Aug 23. The Mohawk is a large boat about the size of the St. Paul, but of only one-half the speed. We are traveling only at the rate of 10 miles per hour. The Mohawk was formerly used as a cattle boat and was never intended to carry passengers. Instead of having cabins a portion of the deck is partitioned off for our company and we bunk the best way we can. The floor is not kept very clean but the boys will stand anything as long as we are approaching our native land.
Wed. Aug 24. The boys were overjoyed at the sight of land today. It proved to be the southern shore of our own Long Island in the United States. We skirted the shore till we came to where I suppose we will camp. In the afternoon three quarantine doctors came aboard in a tug. I guess they found no cases of yellow fevre.
Thurs. Aug. 25. We are still lying off the harbor of Montauk Point, though we expect to land today. Hoping that we may soon get our discharges and that I will soon see you and Akron again I remain your loving nephew.
"Camp Wikoff"
Thurs. Aug 25. Roose of our company died last night on board ship. In the afternoon a detail from our regiment went ashore. I was among the lucky ones.
Fri. Aug 26. Uncle Sam is feeding us well. It looks as though he wanted to remove the effects of the hardships we suffered in Cuba. We have all the fresh milk we can drink.
Sat. Aug 27. The rest of the regiment was landed today. We are now once more encamped on American soil. Our company left 11 in the hospitals of Cuba. My insurance policy is again good for $160.00 as I have left the Tropics.
Sun. Aug 28. It looks as though our regiment would be mustered out soon. But I may not wait for that as I understand that I can get a furlough. I would like a few weeks at home to get rested up before I start in at college. So do not be surprised if I come walking in on you some of these days. Our mailing facilities here are not much better than they were in Cuba or else I would have written you a postal each day. There is a nice breeze blowing from the ocean all the while. It is quite a treat to us boys who have just come from Cuba. I hope you are well and that I will soon have the pleasure of seeing you once more
x x x x x
Mon. Aug 29. What on earth did you send me that package for? Uncle Sam provides every thing we need. You seem possessed to load me up with useless trash. So much for your lecture. Now comes the good news. I received a furlough today and expect to be in Akron at home in a few days
"homeward Bound"
The events of this chapter are told briefly and in the narrative form. On August [?]th I obtained transportation to New York and left at dusk on the miserable railway that runs to Long Island City. We arrived at the terminal about midnight. The 34th st. ferry conveyed us to Mahattan. I obtained a room in a hotel on 34th street.
In the morning of August {?} I secured transportation from the Army building to Akron on the Erie. Left Jersey City about noon and arrived in Akron the next morning.
I was sick for some time in Akron, though I managed to attend college.
We were next ordered to Wooster to be mustered out. Two letters written from that place to my Aunt are given in the following chapter
"Mustered Out"
Thursday Nov. 17, 1898. I arrived in Wooster all right and have got a fine room all by myself. There is a parlor attached which is furnished in fine style. Bathrooms are on the ground floor. Poor Clyde Morrison was taken sick at Orrville and had to take a C.A.&C. train back to Akron. I brought his rifle and haversack down to Wooster.
I got here today in time for dinner. We had more than we can eat. Our dinner consisted in coffee, boiled meat, potatoes, boiled cabbage, preserves and crackers, also bread and butter. I ate some of each. My rooms cost me $2.00 But they are worth that as they are front rooms on the ground floor with a door opening into the front hall. My address is 224 Buckeye street. I am writing this from the C. E. reading room on the public square.
Wooster, O., Friday, Nov 18, 1898. I went to the Opera House yesterday. One of the actors mentioned Major Weybrecht's name. It was greeted with cheers. But Col. Hard's name was greeted with hisses. The boys are wearing badges which read "Remember the Mohawk" The barracks in which the soldiers are expected to sleep is a disgrace to the town. The boys declare that they will tear it down before they leave. We had ham for breakfast and soup for dinner. Spencer and Boardner are stopping at the Road House. I took a look at Wooser University this morning. Tomorrow afternoon I intend to go up to the college grounds and see a foot ball game between the Freshmen and Sophomores. I am feeling well.
Sunday, Nov 20, 1898 I took my physical examination yesterday morning. I have also signed all the muster rolls. They say the paymaster will begin tomorrow to pay the boys off. It may perhaps be possible for me to come home Tuesday. We had wiener wuerst for breakfast. I like them and we get all we can eat. I went to Sunday school and church today at the Lutheran Tabernacle.
Yesterday I saw the foot ball game between the Freshmen and Sophomores at the University. The score was 0 to 0. Has Beatrice any flags like these on this letter head? I have not been on guard yet; I manage to keep out of Walkup's road. As he is in the habit of selecting those who loaf around the barracks, I escape. I received your letter yesterday.