The daily morning journal and courier., 1898-09-23


 Rough Rider who Was Shot Through
 tho Body-Frdntic for water-"Im- mune " Soldiers.
 Special Correspondence of the Jour
 nal and Courier.)
 Santiago, Sept. 2.-This has been particularly trying day to both patients and nurses. While several of the men are at deaths door and many others far too i'll to be moved number of con- valescents are openly rejoicing in the promise of speedy departure. It cannot be denied that the happiness of the for tunate ones adds deeper tinge of blue to the homesickness of their comrades who have no such bright prospects in the near future. Yet more unselflsh mortals were never met than these sol- diers of Uncle Samuel. An example Of this is the young lieutenant from north ern Michigan, who occupies cot in the hospital corridor and whose minutes on earth are numbered. He came through the battle unsheathed, though weak ened, of course from it's days of hunger and hard experiences. Afterwards, like all his company, he had "the fever out in camp where the men were lying on the rain-soaked ground, alternately sweltering at noon-day, drenched in the afternoon down-pour and shivering with cold at night. They had low dog tents, nearly enough to go around by close crowding, but no cots, and in most cases not even blanket the men hav- ing been compelled to throw away their kits before the fight. No wonder that for days together only two men out of a regiment were able to report for duty! An over-worked army-sur- geon made occasional rounds, but his only medicine was quinine, and for men dying of dysentery there was no food but the usual beans, bacon and hard tack It would have required the entire time of a strong man to satisfy the de- mands of the fevered for water, the nearest we'll being half mile away. This young lieutenant and the chaplain of his company did heroic service, for getting their own sufferings in the care of others, spending their last penny to procure necessaries for needier com rades, writing home letters, taking farewell messages for distant loved ones and closing the eyes of the dying The chaplain read the burial service for eighteen men in one day, all of them his personal friends. Shortly afterwards his own turn came to join 'the silent majority" and now the young lieuten- ant is dying.
 Another hero in the safe row, who is slowly recovering from dreadful wound received at Fl Clancy, is best in- troduced to you in the words of Doctor Winfield Egan, the Red Cross, surgeon from Boston. Said he: George Ken- nen and were tramping over the field, thirty-six hours after the battle, doing what we could to relieve the agony of men who yet lay where they fell, unat- tended through the long hot days and nights. The handful of army surgeons were working like Trojans in their in- provised hospital miles away, but the field was very big one and their force woefully insufficient Among the wounded recognized a former college chum, young New Yorker, who might draw his check any day for several hun- dred thousand dollars. Shot through the body and writhing with pain, he lay in the wet grass without even a blan- ket; 1t was raining in torrents and chil- ly night was coming on-the third night after the battle I managed to secure a rubber poncho Che modest doctor did not say that it was his own) and spread it over my wounded friend. "No, no" said he, "Take it to that poor fellow over there. I am only hurt-he is dy- ing' Obeying his earnest request, we left him uncovered and took the poncho to the man indicated. The latter was private soldier, whose throat had been plowed open by Mauser bullet. Dur- ing the first twenty-four hours his pleadings for water agonized all within hearing. There was no water at hand, had any of his suffering comrades been able to give it to him. Now his cries had subsided to low means and life was almost extinct When we bent over him with a canteen of the long desired water he was past swallowing, and died with a grateful smile while we were bathing the poor, swollen throat. And still my friend refused the poncho, but insisted that it was more needed by a stripling of nineteen, who lay near crazy as loon and babbling of home and mother" I am happy to add to Dr. Egans account that this brave Rough Rider, of whom New York may well be proud will not die, though he may be permanently disabled.
 Although there is so little seldshness among the brave boys who faced death together, the hospital attendants say that whenever a new lot of men starts for home, the sight of their exuberant happiness has a correspondingly de- pressing effect upon the stay-behinds, raising the fever-pulse fully fifty per cent The poor fellows are so home sick that "mal de pias," as the Span iards call it, has become a distinct and often fatal disease, which medicine can- not touch. Suddenly the strains of Home, Sweet Home' invaded the si- lence of the hospital; and an electric shock could not have produced a more marked and instantaneous effect. Every man who was able sprang to his feet and the dying raised their feeble heads: tears coursed down bronzed and pallid faces and busy nurses and doctors paused, spell-bound in their weary rounds. So even from his grave, does the homeless poet still touch the hearts of the world with his tuneful praise of