T. G. Steward - The Colored Regulars in the United States Army

T >> T. G. Steward >> The Colored Regulars in the United States Army

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26

* * * * *

DIARY OF E.L. BAKER. SERGEANT-MAJOR TENTH U.S. CAVALRY.

Appointed First Lieutenant Ninth U.S. Volunteer Infantry,
and later Captain of the Forty-ninth Volunteer Infantry--Now
Lieutenant in Philippine Scouts.

A TRIP FROM MONTANA TO CUBA WITH THE TENTH U.S. CAVALRY.

April 16, 1898, at 10.45 p.m., telegram was received from Department
Headquarters, St. Paul, Minnesota, ordering the regiment to the
Department of the Gulf.

As every click of the telegraph instrument was expected to announce a
rupture in the diplomatic relations between the United States and the
Kingdom of Spain, all knew that the mobilization of the army South
meant preparing it for the serious work for which it is maintained.

On April 19 we were off for Chickamauga Park. En route we were
heartily greeted. Patriotism was at its height. Every little hamlet,
even, had its offerings. To compare the journey with Caesar's march of
triumph would be putting it mildly.

We arrived at the historic point April 25. Every moment of our stay
there was assiduously devoted to organizing, refitting and otherwise
preparing for the inevitable. Officers were sent to many parts of the
country to secure recruits. Many also gave up details and relinquished
their leaves of absence to take part in the impending crisis.

May 14. We were moved a little nearer the probable theatre of
operations. On account of some deficiency in water for troops at
Tampa, the regiment was stopped at Lakeland, 30 miles this side, where
many recruits were received; Troops increased to war strength, and new
Troops established. Drills and instructions were also constantly
followed up.

June 6. Orders were received to prepare headquarters, band and eight
Troops dismounted, with trained men only, for service in Cuba.
Recruits to be left in camp with horses and property.

June 7. We were off for Port Tampa, where the regiment embarked on the
steamship Leona that afternoon.

June 8. She steamed from the dock. When the expedition seemed to be
forming, news was received that the dreaded Spanish fleet was being
sighted, evidently lying in wait for army transports. So we steamed
back to the pier. Many of the men appeared disappointed at the move,
probably not realizing that there was too much water in the Atlantic
Ocean for the 5th Army Corps to drink.

To my mind, the Divine Providence surely directed the move, as the
delay enabled the force to be swelled several thousand, every one of
whom was needed before Santiago.

June 14. We steamed out of Tampa Bay, amid cheers and music from the
thirty odd transports, heavily escorted by naval vessels. Among them
were the much talked-of dynamiter, Vesuvius, and the beautiful little
cruiser, Helena. Off Dry Tortugas that formidable warship, Indiana,
joined the fleet.

Splendid weather; nothing unusual transpiring, though our transport,
which also contained the First U.S. Cavalry, had a seemingly close
call from being sent to the bottom of the sea, or else being taken in
as a prisoner, which the enemy could have done with impunity.

Whilst going down the Saint Nicholas Chanel, in Cuban waters, the
vessel was deliberately stopped about midnight, June 16, and left to
roll in the trough of the sea until the morning of the 17th, in
consequence of which we were put 20 hours behind the fleet and without
escort, almost in sight of the Cuban shores.

Men were indignant at having been placed in such a helpless position,
and would have thrown the captain of the ship, whom they accused of
being a Spanish sympathizer and otherwise disloyal, overboard without
ceremony, but for the strong arm of military discipline. We were
picked up by the U.S. Cruiser Bancroft, late in the afternoon, she
having been sent in quest of the Jonah of the fleet. Upon approach of
the ship there were prolonged cheers from all of Uncle Sam's
defenders. The only explanation that I have ever heard for this
unpardonable blunder on the part of the ship's crew was that they
mistook a signal of a leading vessel.

June 20. Land was sighted.

June 21. Dispatch boats active; transports circling; Morro Castle
pointed out; three days' rations issued to each man; no extra
impedimenta to be taken ashore; crew preparing for landing.

June 22. As we neared Daiquiri, the designated place for disembarking,
flames could be seen reaching almost to the heavens, the town having
been fired by the fleeing Spaniards upon the approach of war vessels
of Sampson's fleet, who were assembling to bombard the shore and cover
our landing. After a fierce fire from these ships, the landing was
effected with loss of two men of our regiment, who were doubtless
crushed to death between the lighters. They were buried near the place
of recovery the next morning.

The few half-clothed and hungry-looking natives on shore seemed
pleased to see us. Daiquiri, a shipping point of the Spanish-American
Iron Company, was mostly deserted. The board houses seemed to have
been spared, while the sun-burned huts thatched with palm were still
smoking, also the roundhouse in which there were two railroad
locomotives, warped and twisted from the heat. The Spanish evidently
fired everything they could before evacuating.

June 23. At 6.00 p.m. Troops A, B, E and I, left with four Troops of
the First U.S. Cavalry and Rough Riders (First U.S. Volunteer Cavalry)
as advance guard of the Army of Invasion on the main road to Santiago
de Cuba; about 800 men all told, three Hotchkiss guns, manned by ten
cavalrymen, accompanied also by the Brigadier Commander, General
S.M.B. Young and staff.

NOTE.--These troops marched about 13 miles through a
drenching rain from 7 to 10 p.m.; bivouacked one hour later. Oh the
24th, after breakfast, took the trail about 5.15 a.m. The vapor from
wet clothing rose with the sun, so that you could scarcely recognize a
man ten feet away. About three and one-half miles above Siboney the
command was halted; the first U.S. Volunteer Cavalry (Rough Riders)
sent to the left; proceeding farther about one mile, the main column
was split, First U.S. Cavalry going to the right, the Tenth Cavalry
remaining in the center. General Wheeler joined at this point,
accompanied by his orderly, Private Queene, Troop A, Tenth Cavalry.
Disposition of the troops was explained by General Young, who had
located his headquarters with the Tenth U.S. Cavalry; General Wheeler
made his the same. Hotchkiss guns were ordered closed up; magazines
filled. The column had proceeded but a short way when the engagement
opened in all its fury; troops were deployed and advanced in the
direction from which the bullets were coming the thickest, as rapidly
as the formation of the ground would permit, the left of the line
touching the right of the Rough Riders.

June 24. Headquarters, band and the remainder of the First and Tenth
U.S. Cavalry were off at 6 A.M. The road was alive with troops (C, D,
F, G,) colonels and privates alike lugging their rations and bedding
beneath that ever watchful tropical sun, feeling as though they would
wilt at every step, the undergrowth being so thick and tall that
scarcely any breeze could get to you.

On emerging from this thicket, through which we had been marching for
several hours, the Sampson fleet could be heard firing on the Spanish
batteries on shore. Marines and other troops could be seen crossing
the mountains above Altares; this revived the men very much. As we
approached Verni Jarabo (Altares?), we were met by General Lawton, who
informed our Colonel that the advance guard was engaged with the
Spanish at La Guasima, and that it was hard pressed. Our pace was
quickened; the news appeared to lighten our heavy packs as we toiled
to the front to assist our comrades. The roar of the artillery became
plainer; wounded men along the road as well as those played-out from
the intense heat. Women and children were fleeing to places of safety.
Our forces were repairing a railroad engine and track; also tearing up
a piece leading to a Spanish blockhouse. In fact, everything seemed to
have on an exceedingly warlike tint, but our advance continued as
swifty as our weary feet would allow, which soon brought us to a
number of our own comrades conveyed on litters from La Guasima, where
our advance guard was tussling hard with the Dons for the honors of
the day.

Upon arrival of reinforcements, victory had been wrested from the Dons
fairly by the advance guard without assistance. Every one greeted each
other, as though it had been a year instead of a few hours since
parting. The First U.S. Cavalry and Rough Riders were unstinted in
extolling the fighting qualities of their brothers in arms, the Tenth
U.S. Cavalry.

The enemy was struck early June 24, entrenched on the heights of La
Guasima, near Sevilla, on the main road from Daiquiri to the city of
Santiago de Cuba. The advance guard was soon hotly engaged with them;
after a very desperate fight of over one hour, the enemy was driven in
confusion from their intrenchments. Our men were too exhausted to
follow them. The Tenth Cavalry lost 13 killed and wounded. For a while
it was a terrific fight, as the enemy was strongly intrenched on the
heights and our men had to climb them subjected to their fire, which
was very accurate, and much of it doubtless from machine guns in hands
of experienced men. Our men had also to contend with the thickest
underbrush, wire fences (the famous military trochas) and Spanish
daggers jabbing them in side at every step. For a while the situation
was serious. The decisive blow of the attack seems to have been struck
at an opportune moment, and the enemy withdrew in confusion.

It has been estimated that about 4,000 Spanish were engaged.
Everything indicated that they lost heavily; a Santiago paper put it
at 240. The writer and the Sergeant-Major of the First U.S. Cavalry
superintended the digging of one large grave where all the dead of the
two regiments were interred according to the Episcopal service. The
Rough Riders, being farther to our left, buried their own. If
advantage of position goes for anything, the Spanish should have
annihilated the Americans as they approached the stronghold.

The command remained on the battlefield until June 26, when it
proceeded to Sevilla, an old coffee and sugar plantation, to await the
assembling of the army and placing of the artillery.

Our camp at Sevilla was an interesting one in many ways. It was
pitched between the main road and a stream of excellent water. From
the hill beyond, the Spanish works could be viewed. From the roadside
many acquaintances were seen, also generals, foreign military
attaches, troops, artillery and pack trains. Wheeled transportation
seemed entirely out of its place in Cuba; one piece of artillery was
noticed with 24 horses tugging away at it.

The Cuban Army, cavalry and infantry, passed us at this point, which
seemed to consist of every male capable of swelling the crowd. Those
unable to carry or secure guns had an old knife or machete strapped to
them.

On June 30, about 4 P.M., shortly after our daily shower, which was a
little more severe and much longer than usual, the regiment was put in
motion for the front. We had marched about 1600 yards when the war
balloon was seen ascending some distance to our right. As the balloon
question was new, every one almost was stumbling on the man's heels in
front, trying to get a peep at this wonderful war machine.

After much vexatious delay, narrow road crowded with troops, a pack
train came along and added its mite to the congestion, as some of the
mules turned their heels on the advancing column when pushed too much.

We finally merged into a beautiful lawn, site of the Division
Hospital, where all were as busy as beavers in placing this
indispensable adjunct in order. Here the work of July 1 was clearly
suggested. Proceeding, wading and rewading streams, we bivouacked
beyond the artillery on the heights of El Poso, an old sugar
plantation, about four miles off, in plain view of the city of
Santiago. The lights of the city showed so brightly, the enemy
offering no resistance to our advance, I could not help feeling
apprehensive of being in a trap. I thought so seriously over the
matter that I did not unroll my pack, so as to be ready at an instant.
Simply released my slicker, put it on, and lay down where I halted.

Early July 1 all the brigade was up, getting breakfast and making as
much noise as if on a practice march. The Tenth Cavalry did not make
any fire until orders were received to that effect. I remarked to my
bunky that we were not going to fight evidently, as the smoke would
surely disclose our presence and enable the enemy's artillery to get
our range. The whole of Santiago seemed to be decorated with hospital
flags.

At 6.30 a shell from Capron's battery, U.S. Artillery, directed at a
blockhouse in El Caney, announced that the battle was on. Then the
musketry became general. All stood and watched the doomed village
quite a while as the battle progressed. Soon Grices' battery of the
U.S. Artillery, which was in support, belched forth destruction at the
Spanish works of the city, using black powder. The fire was almost
immediately returned by the enemy's batteries, who had smokeless.
They were shortly located when a fierce duel took place. The Dons were
silenced, but not until we had suffered loss. During this fire
an aide--Lieut. Wm. E. Shipp, Tenth Cavalry, Brigade
Quartermaster--brought orders for us to take position on the left of
the First U.S. Cavalry. The line extended nearly north and south on a
ridge some three or four miles from the city, where the regiment was
exposed to much of the return fire from the enemy's batteries. The men
exhibited no special concern and watched the flight of the death
messenger as eagerly as if at a horse race. Adjutant Barnum here
divided the band and turned it over to the surgeons to assist in
caring for the wounded, and directed Saddler Sergeant Smith and myself
to accompany the Colonel in advance. When Lieut. Shipp delivered his
orders, some of the officers remarked, "You are having a good time
riding around here." He replied that it was no picnic riding among
bullets, and that he would prefer being with his troops.

After the artillery had ceased firing, the regiment moved to the
right, passed El Poso, where there were additional signs of the
enemy's havoc among our troops, proceeded down the road leading to
Santiago. The movement of the regiment was delayed as it approached
the San Juan River, by an infantry brigade which had halted.

The regiment came within range of musket fire about three-quarters or
one-half mile from the crossing. Upon reaching the ford the Colonel
(Baldwin) rode nearly across the stream (closely followed by his
regiment) when we were greeted by the Dons with a terrific volley of
musketry, soon followed by artillery, which caused us to realize more
fully than ever, that "things were coming our way." Orders were given
to throw off packs and get cover. In removing his, Sergeant Smith,
on, my immediate left, was assisted by a Spanish bullet, and an
infantry soldier fell as my pack was thrown off to the right. In
seeking cover men simply dropped to the right and left of the road in
a prone position.

The regiment was here subjected to a terrific converging fire from the
blockhouse and intrenchments in front and the works further to the
left and nearer the city. The atmosphere seemed perfectly alive with
flying missiles from bursting shells over head, and rifle bullets
which seemed to have an explosive effect. Much fire was probably drawn
by the war balloon, which preceded the regiment to a point on the edge
of the river, near the ford, where it was held. This balloon
undoubtedly rendered excellent service in locating positions of the
Spanish works and developing an ambush which had been laid for us, but
the poor, ill-fated balloon certainly received many uncomplimentary
remarks during our stay in its vicinity.

It seemed as though the Spanish regarded the balloon as an evil agent
of some kind, and as though every gun, both great and small, was
playing on it. I made several trips under it following the Colonel,
who repeatedly rode up and down the stream, and I would have been
fully satisfied to have allowed my mind even to wander back to the
gaily lighted ball rooms and festivals left behind only a few months
before.

While on the last trip under the balloon a large naval shell exploded,
knocking the Colonel's hat off, crippling his horse, and injuring the
rider slightly in the arm and side, all of course, in addition to a
good sand bath. I then joined the regiment, some rods beyond, then
under cover. In crouching down behind a clump of brush, heard some one
groan; on looking around, saw Private Marshall struggling in the river
wounded. Immediately rushing to his assistance another of those
troublesome shells passed so close as to cause me to feel the heat. It
did not stop the effort, however, and the wounded man was placed in
safety.

The regiment remained in the road only a few moments when it was
ordered to take position behind the river bank some yards above the
balloon for protection; while moving to that position, and while
there, suffered much loss. Why we did not lose heavier may be
attributed to the fact that the enemy's musket fire was a trifle high,
and their shells timed from one-half to one second too long, caused
them to explode beyond, instead of in front, where the shells would
have certainly secured the Dons' maximum results, as, after the
balloon was cut down, you could scarcely hold your hand up without
getting it hit. During the battle, one trooper fell upon a good-sized
snake and crushed it to death, and another trooper allowed one of
these poisonous reptiles to crawl over him while dodging a volley from
the Spanish Mausers.

The shrapnel and canister shells, with their exceedingly mournful and
groaning sound, seemed to have a more terrifying effect than the swift
Mauser bullet, which always rendered the same salutation, "Bi-Yi." The
midern shrapnel shell is better known as the man-killing projectile,
and may be regarded as the most dangerous of all projectiles designed
for taking human life. It is a shell filled with 200 or 300 bullets,
and having a bursting charge, which is ignited by a time fuse, only
sufficient to break the base and release the bullets, which then move
forward with the velocity it had the time of bursting. Each piece is
capable of dealing death to any living thing in its path. In practice
firing, it is known where, by one shot, 152 hits were made by a single
shrapnel. In another, 215 hits are recorded. Imagine then, the havoc
of a well-directed shrapnel upon a group of men such as is here
represented. Capron's battery at El Caney cut down 16 cavalrymen with
one shell.

After a delay of about 30 minutes, during part of the time, the
writer, assisted by Sergeant Smith and Mr. T.A. Baldwin, cut all the
wire fences possible. Mr. Baldwin was dangerously wounded while so
engaged just before the general advance.

The regiment merged into open space in plain view of and under the
fire of the enemy; and formed line of battle facing toward the
blockhouses and strong intrenchments to the north, occupied by the
Spanish, and advanced rapidly in this formation, under a galling,
converging fire from the enemy's artillery and infantry, on the
blockhouses and heavy intrenchments to the right front. Many losses
occurred before reaching the top of the hill, Lieut. W.H. Smith being
killed while gallantly conducting his troop as it arrived on the
crest. Lieut. W.E. Shipp was killed about the same instant, shortly
after leaving Lieutenant Smith, further to the left and near the pond
on the sunken road leading to Santiago. Lieutenant Smith was struck in
the head and perished with a single groan. Lieutenant Shipp was hit
near the heart; death must have been almost instantaneous, though it
appears he made an effort to make use of his first aid package. Thus
the careers of two gallant and efficient officers whose lives had been
so closely associated were ended.

Private Slaughter, who was left in charge of Lieutenant Smith's body,
was picked off by the Spanish sharpshooters, and Private Jackson,
Lieutenant Shipp's orderly, was left as deaf as a post from a bursting
shell.

The enemy having been driven back, northwest, to the second and third
blockhouses, new lines were formed and a rapid advance made upon them
to the new positions. The regiment assisted in capturing these works
from the enemy, and planted two sets of colors on them, then took up a
position to the north of the second blockhouse. With some changes in
position of troops, this line, one of the most advanced, about three
hundred yards of the enemy, was held and intrenchments dug under a
very heavy and continuous fire from the Spanish intrenchments in
front, July 2 and 3.

In their retreat from the ridge, the enemy stood not on the order of
their going, but fled in disorder like so many sheep from the scene,
abandoning a quantity of ammunition, which was fired at them
subsequently from our rapid-fire guns. Our men were too exhausted to
pursue them, footwear and clothing being soaked by wading rivers, they
had become drenched with rain, and when they reached the crest they
were about played-out; having fought about 12 hours, most of which was
under that ever-relentless tropical sun.

Throughout the night, work on the intrenchments was pushed, details
buried the dead, improvised litters, and conveyed the wounded to
hospitals, all of which was prosecuted with that vim for which the
regular soldier is characterized, notwithstanding their water-logged
condition.

The regiment acted with extraordinary coolness and bravery. It held
its position at the ford and moved forward unflinchingly after
deployment, through the dense underbrush, crossed and recrossed by
barbed wire, under heavy and almost plunging fire from the Spanish
works, while attacking with small arms an enemy strongly posted in
intrenchments and blockhouses, supported by artillery, and who
stubbornly contested every inch of ground gained by the American
troops.

Officers were exceedingly active and tireless in their efforts to
inspire and encourage the men. You could hear them call out, "Move
right along; the Spaniards can't shoot; they are using blanks." One
officer deliberately stopped and lit his pipe amid a shower of
bullets, and then moved on as unconcerned as if on target practice.

The rifle pits occupied by the enemy were intrenchments in reality,
dug almost shoulder deep, and faced with stone, being constructed
without approaches, leaving the only avenue for escape over the
parapet, which was equivalent to committing suicide, in face of the
unerring marksmanship of the United States troops.

We were afterward told by a Spanish soldier how they were held in
these trenches by an officer stationed at each end with a club; also
how they depended on their officers for everything. This may account
for the large percentage of our officers picked off by the Dons. I
observed during the battle that when spotted by the enemy, delivering
orders or busying about such duties as usually indicated some one in
authority, the Spanish would fire whole volleys at an individual, this
evidently with a view to demoralizing the rank and file by knocking
off the officers.

The Spanish also tried an old Indian trick to draw our fire, or induce
the men to expose themselves, by raising their hats on sticks or
rifles, or placing them upon parapets, so when we went to fire they
would aim to catch us as we rose with a terrific volley. The Dons
were, however, soon convinced of their folly in this respect, as we
always had a volley for the hats and a much stouter one for the enemy
as he raised to reply to the volley at the hats. The Tenth Cavalry had
fought Indians too long in the West to be foiled in that manner.

We were annoyed much by the Spanish sharpshooters stationed in tops of
the beautiful palms and other trees of dense foliage. A number of
these guerillas were found provided with seats, water and other
necessaries, and I am told some of them had evidently robbed our dead
to secure themselves an American uniform, that they might still carry
on their nefarious work undetected.

Many of the disabled received their second and some their mortal
wound, while being conveyed from the field by litter-bearers.

Though it was the tendency for a time to give the sharpshooter story
little or no credence, but to lay the matter to "spent bullets"; it
seemed almost out of the question that "spent bullets" should annoy
our Division Hospital, some four or five miles from the Spanish works.
It would also seem equally as absurd that a bullet could be trained to
turn angles, as several of our men were hit while assembled for
transfer to general hospital and receiving temporary treatment at the
dressing station located in an elbow of the San Juan River.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26