The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1898-07-10
Rough Riders Baptism.


ing Post. writing from Siboney. June Is.
! says:
| 1t is now comprehended that yesterday 5
| skirn1ish between ambushed Spaniards
| and Rough Riders was a mere mess-up.
| due to want Of the most ordinary military
prudence. A few ragged Cuoans were
ahead, and following. single file, were a
! drummer. a corporal. sergeant. ana so
on-no thanking force-an advancing along
| the trail through the close-growing bush.
garrulous as a lot of laborers going home
| ward after a days work. Above the
| tramping noises and the confusion OF
voices you could hear Jim Smith, who
used 10 keep the store at Red Horse.
Indian Territory. arguing with much
blasphemy about the capabilities OF Sheriff
Sukes in SOLDERING up, though nearly in
sensible with drink. TO meet an emer-
gency; or you caught the high rasping
accent of Led Unison asserting. Now,
- - 1t. his name was Green. tell ye."
There was another sound. too. and CORE
spondents who had heard it during the
anxious nights at Camp McCalla felt ex-
citing apprehensions. 1t was the soft COO
coo-coo of the wood-doye in the chap
arrai.
In vain did they warn the officers that
the cooling of the wood-dOve was for some
one the knell of death. These troops were
fresh from the transports. having no &C
quaintance with the Cuban bush or Span
ism warfare. II is difficult at irst to real
ize in war that human beings with guns
are lying in wait for YOU and that they
will shoot to kill. On struggled the horse
less troopers, execrating the sun which
made them drop out and sit by the way
side, or throw off their blankets and half
tents as deadly burdensome, or suffer
pangs of thirst with no relief in Their can
teens or fall back to the hospital line,
or tumble, overcome, In the path. Fer
ward the line came across the dead BODY
of Cuban. The shot that killed him
was not heard above the clamor of march
ing and talking.
Immediately there was firing from left,
right and front But you know the story
-Mauser rifles and machine guns from
ambush played among our me1 with hor-
rifying havoc. AS is the American i'm
pulse. Oaths and imprecations rose from
the wounded and their comrades till Col
Wood commanded: Don't swear; fight!'
1t was a relief to swear, but it also was
a relief 10 fight, and with chins set grimly
the eXasperated troops, at one time Hat on
the ground later in extended order, shot
blindly in the directions from which bull
lets came. Overhead these bullets crack
ed and snapped among the twigs till it
course the men were a bit demoraliZed
by the sudden attack and the stampede
of the mules. The thing to do, the in
fictitious thought of the moment, was to
run.
Come to your senses, men, yelled one
of the officers, and before long Troops l.
and G. were advancing, driving ahead the
hidden enemy. Here was Spanish SOL
der in his blue dungaree, stretched on his
back amid American dead, arms thrown
out jaw fallen, and eyes staring at the
sun and not blinking any more. To see
men bleed, to see them thrash in agony
and foam at the mouth, is unsettling to
the nerves. You are not surprised when
a friend, face flaming with heat and eX-
element, rushes up to tell you something,
stops still, and can find only voice enough
TO say a weak, choking, inconsequent
Hello" What he wants to say is that
Ham Fish is shot, as you learn after
wards, and that his head is so badly
shattered that only by a watch in the dead
boys pocket can you be assured that it
indeed is Fish.
Several gave their attentions to one
man, wounded in the spine, upon whose
brain the hurt is pitiful. In the same mo-
ment lis it sane moment?) he asks for
a cigarette, and, on the stretcher, paral-
yzed below his waist, he smokes in SEEM
ing comfort. 1t is very kind of them, he
says, to help him SO much. But aren't
they missing the fight? He swoOns again;
again he revives, and asks for a cigar
cite. Then, in a pleasant baritone, he
sings, ut is moonlight on the Wabash"
going through every stanza; wondering.
perhaps, that nobody joins. Boys he
asks, will you have a hanson on the
beach for me? I've got to meet Mr.. -
right away" Yes, they tell him, there
will be a hanson on the beach for him.
1t suggests New York to them-Madison
Square, upper Broadway, with its rumble
and life, sidewalks filled with fine wo-
men going to the matinee or to shop,
where you have but to raise your finger
to send d hurt man easily to hospital. 1t
is night before they get this one to the
little shed where the dead and wounded
lie together, candles making the place
weird by their little, bright, undiffu5ed
specks of light.
Who were the dead? It was days before
it could be known. Looking for the bodies
the men found cOrpses without faces.
Not vutures," explained the Cubans,
but land-crabs." There were the ugly,
crawling things that had come across the
path at the same time the wood-doves
bushy ground by Spaniards sneakinS Up
to our unsuspecting line. We did not
read the signs, and the crabs Toasted. This
may not look nice in print, but think Of
looking upon the thing itself and give up
whatever illusions you may have that war
is anything but hell.