Tampa was choked with troops. It was a real military camp, and there we first glimpsed the khaki uniforms. The Rough Riders and many of the volunteer units had these on. And how cool they appeared alongside our heavy blue flannels! Wooden planks for side walks along the wharf, troops of all branches of the service promenading up and down, all day long. Some were on duty, hustling and bustling, some were merely sight-seeing, like our bunch. There were so many officers that the troops neglected to salute them anymore, we found out to our surprise after we got ashore. We had seen Gen. Shaftner, the commanding officer of the expeditionary forces in Cuba, who was a man of unusually large size, weighing about 350 pounds, so it looked like his horse was breaking under him.

While strolling along we saw the foreign attaches of the British, Russian, French and Japanese governments. We had also seen Gen. Miles, the commander-in-chief of the American army at the time, who was the most soldierly looking officer I have ever met. He was what is called every inch a soldier. We certainly saluted him. The wharf looked more like a circus ground. They were selling foam for a nickel a glass - lunch stands and fruit stands. There were exclusive restaurants also, where the charges were exorbitant for a good meal.

From there we went to the Tampa Bay hotel.

Meantime long lines of troops, dressed in their heavy marching order, were lined up ashore, sweltering in the hot sun and waiting for their turn to get aboard the transports. There were pack mules, light artillery, mountain batteries, provision trains and ordnance being loaded on the many transports. Warships, large and small, were hovering in the harbor. We got shore leave everyday when off duty, till June 10, when the boat began to make preparations to sail.

On June 11 at daybreak, the Matteawan weighed anchor and started to pull out from her moorings. The two transports carrying the Third Infantry followed us. Then transport after transport began to loosen up and slide into the bay. From far off we could see the Indiana puffing smoke. We were all on deck watching the preparations. Our band was playing and our officers stood on the captain's bridge. Warship after warship, signaling, saluting, whistles blowing, bands playing all around. Transport after transport getting in line. There was only one thing that cannot be forgotten. While we were getting in line, to our designated position the Yucatan, a transport loaded with dynamite and other explosives, almost beached us. She just missed us by five feet. There were all kinds of loud commands by the captains of the other vessels. Of course we did not know the danger we were in till after all was over and the expedition would have never started had we rammed her.

There were 48 transports and many warships of all classes and sizes escorting us, battleship Indiana leading the expedition. Flags were flying on all transports and warships - a wonderful sight never to be forgotten. It was late in the afternoon while we were entering the Gulf of Mexico that a news dispatch launch, going at full speed, dashed into our line of transports. A man standing on deck with a megaphone called us to direct him to the commanding officers boat. Suddenly there was a great commotion among the warships escorting us, and while, we were wondering what happened, the expedition was ordered to return to Tampa Bay. It was almost dark then. All transports and warships got back in the bay, with the exception of our Matteawan. The harbor was mined at dark and our large and slow ship could not make it for some reason or other. We were left in the gulf. Two large gunboats stood by us all night long - lights out and no talking. There were rumors circulating the transport that a Spanish fleet was in the Gulf of Mexico and that the transport had been recalled in the bay for that reason. We enlisted men have never known why the transport fleet was recalled. Neither did we know that Admiral Cervera with the Spanish fleet eluded the American patrol and had slipped into Santiago harbor on May 19.

The Spanish fleet consisting of the first class cruisers Infanta Maria Teresa, Chistobal colon, Almirante Qquendo, the Vizcaya and the torpedo boat destroyers Furroz and Fluton had entered the harbor of Santiago. The Terror, a Spanish destroyer had not entered the Santiago harbor with Cervera, for it was hovering in the gulf and was later sunk by Capt, Sigsbee on the St. Paul near San Juan, Porto Rico, June 22.

With daybreak we could see our patrol and scout boats returning and signaling to the gunboats. And when the Matteawan with her turtle gait joined the other transports we felt easier. We remained in the harbor till the fourteenth of June. On that day the real start of the American expeditionary forces to liberate Cuba was made. There was neither pomp nor music on that day. Transport after transport sailed out of the harbor into the bay escorted by warships. When we woke up on deck next morning we found ourselves in the Gulf of Mexico, the tropical sun above us, the blue water of the gulf beneath us. The transport flotilla traveled in a formation of three lines. The Battleship Indiana led battleships, cruisers and torpedo boat destroyers all around our line of transports. We traveled very slowly. Our band was playing on deck a few hours each day. We were in the best of spirits-it was more like a festival than going to a campaign in a tropical country during the rainy season.

We did not know what was ahead of us and did not care. There was poker, pinochle and games of all kinds on deck. We lived on cold field rations and only hot coffee was prepared on board ship. It got so hot and the transports were traveling so slowly that lots of men jumped overboard, swam alongside. The only excitement was caused when once in a while a commercial vessel crossed our line of transports. Then there was all kinds of commotion among the smaller vessels of the navy, signaling back and forth. At nights lights were always out. We slept on deck- any place we could find, where we would not interfere with the movements of the sailors on the ship. Down below was stifling, and the stench from horses and mules was unbearable. We slept with our clothes on most of the time, using knapsacks or our elbows for pillows. Guard duty was going on every day, but there was no drills of any kind. It was beautiful every day only when we crossed the windward passage, getting out from the Gulf of Mexico to the Caribbean Sea, it was very stormy, and our boat was rocking and made us seasick. We sailed by and touched the harbor of Guantanamo, where our marines had already engaged the Spaniards. On the twentieth we were close to land. We could tell that for there was tropical vegetation and cocoanuts floating in the waters. It was intensely hot that day. Late in the afternoon, we could see the hills of the Island of Cuba. Our transports changed their position. We maneuvered into long lines, the sides of the ships facing the land, while a part of our navy lined up in front of us, their guns facing the island.

June 21, 1898. A cool breeze swept over the long lines of transports when reveille sounded for the last time for those aboard the Matteawan. In single file we passed by the large coffee kettles where everybody got his tin cup of hot coffee - we had our cold beans and hardtack - ate in a hurry and began to pack. When the red sun began to creep out from behind the blue horizon of the sea, it found us standing on deck in our heavy marching order, with our rifles in our hands, awaiting orders. In front of us we could to see the beautiful hills of Cuba, covered with its rich, tropical vegetation. The rays of the sun were shining through the groves of tall palms. The sea was calm and the long line of transports looked like large cradles rocking in the deep waters. Everybody was overwhelmed with the beauty of nature and the supreme importance of the movement.

Suddenly out crept in full majesty the Cruiser Brooklyn, the flagship of Rear Admiral Schley, followed by the New Orleans and the Swanee, in battle formation. A crash from a gun and the Brooklyn opened fire, followed by the guns of the New Orleans and the smaller boat, the Swanee, their shells falling and exploding on the surrounding hills. One place, especially, attracted the fire of the warships, a Spanish blockhouse on the top of the hill, flying the Spanish flag. The Swanee lined up in front facing the blockhouse and fired three shots, each shot taking effect, demolishing the blockhouse and tearing down the Spanish flag from its post. We cheered the wonderful gunnery of the navy. The bombardment lasted for an hour or so and it was an inspiring and wonderful sight to see.

When the warships got through "peppering" the hills of Cuba, the army began to get busy. The line of transports began to creep up closer to shore. A long line of our warships, led by the Cruiser New York, the flagship of Admiral Sampson, the commander-in -chief of the naval operations in the Cuban waters, appeared in front of us and they began to land marines. Launches from the various vessels of the fleet, under the guns of their own ships, each carrying a full quota of marines, started to move up close to shore. The marines stood with their rifles in a position to "open fire." The launches got close to shore as they could, unloaded their marines, who advanced on land in skirmish line, and took up a position. Then our line of transports began to move closer. By 9 o'clock the landing of the expeditionary forces of the American Army, under Gen. Schaftner, on the soil of Cuba began.

Our Matteawan, puffing, moved close to shore. We were all lined up on deck in our heavy marching order in company formation. A swarm of launches from the warships came close to us. The sea was quiet. The sailors, who were few clothes, ready at a seconds notice to jump into the water, should anything happen, threw a heavy rope on our boat. The seaman of our boat tied the rope securely and we began to lower ourselves into the boat. Eighteen men were assigned to each launch. Two seaman grabbed me and I was in. They rowed us as close to land as they could, unloaded us and went back for more men. We waded waist deep in water and walked to shore. We were not lined up in a firing line like the marines, but we got ashore and waited for the others.

The Spanish fleet under Admiral Cevera was bottled up in the harbor of Santiago de Cuba. Lieut. Hobson, with five daring sailors had sunk the Merrimac in the neck of the harbor. It was a very brave act, but the tide had turned the Merrimac around and it did not have the proper effect. Whatever vessels Admiral Sampson could spare from the blockading fleet were engaged in helping the army to land effectively and to begin operations against the Spaniards. The First U.S. Infantry Gen. Shaftner's own regiment, landed first, then Gen. Bates Brigade, consisting of the Twentieth and the Third U.S. Infantry and four troops of mounted men of the Second U.S. Cavalry, began to land. The place where we landed was called Daiquiri, composed of a few Spanish blockhouses and a small sugar refinery. Spanish troops were there, but our bombardment drove them into the hills.

We sat down on the sandy shore watching boat after boat approach as close to shore as they could to unload troops. The soldiers were wading waist deep in the water holding their rifles and ammunition belts high up in their hands so they wouldn't get wet. The sailors worked like Trojans all day. While we were loaded like pack mules in our heavy marching order, they did not have an ounce of weight on them and when one boat capsized carrying a load of the boys from the Ninth U.S. Cavalry (colored) the sailors jumped into the water and pulled out 16 of the 18 men. Two were drowned - the only loss of life we had on our side of the landing. The horses and mules from our transport, the Matteawan, were unloaded through a side door into the sea, the muleteers getting astride some of the mules. It was exciting to watch the horses and mules swim ashore.

Four troops of the Second U.S. Cavalry were the only mounted troops that landed in Cuba with Gen. Shaftner's expedition. The Rough Riders and all the regular army cavalry units were landed and used in the Santiago campaign as infantrymen, their horses being stabled in Tampa, Fla.

It was remarkable sight to see the landing of the troops. Everybody was glad to get ashore and away from the crowded transports. Troops landed all day on June 21 and 22 at Daiquiri, and further down the line toward Siboney, the Helena and Castina and the Winslow were bombarding the blockhouses around them and landing more troops. The artillery, the pack mules, the commissary supplies, tentage, hospital supplies, and all the heavy ordnance were unloaded at Siboney after the place was bombarded by some vessels of Sampson's fleet. Siboney had a good harbor and our engineers hurriedly constructed a small dock there, the landing at Daiquiri being in the open sea. There was a roundhouse and a small narrow-gauge railroad running from Daiquiri to Siboney, then to Santiago. The Spaniards made an effort to blow up the roundhouse, the railroad and the bridge crossing the creek as soon as they saw us landing, but they did not succeed and were driven away into the hills after a skirmish with some of our troops. Our engineers took charge of the railroad and roundhouse immediately.

When our entire brigade had disembarked we marched inland a short distance and halted near the railroad tracks. We pitched our dog tents and everybody cooked his own field supper. Darkness set in right after sunset, We were glad we were on land again. The sea was in front of us with lots of transports still unloaded. Back of us were the high hills, undoubtedly sheltering Spanish troops. We were ordered to be ready for an emergency. That meant to sleep with clothes on, ammunition belts on over hips and rifle by our side. We knew there were scouts and outposts ahead of us. Crawling into our dog tent, my bunky and I fell asleep.

One man had a rifle, the next man the ammunition belt, but most of them carried machetes. And these were the patriots of their country, these were the men who made it possible for Cuba to become a free republic, a nation among nations. Their fight for freedom brought our army and navy to lend a helping hand. Their cry for freedom aroused the sympathy of that great republic close to them. To free Cuba was the aim and wish of Uncle Sam.

After reveille we began to fraternize with those Cubans. They were starved and we gave them some of our rations and they treated us with fresh cocoanuts. They could climb those tall cocoanut trees like monkeys and with the machetes they would chop off these cocoanuts - with one blow of the machete, split it in two. We drank that refreshing cocoanut milk and had plenty of fresh fruit for breakfast, while the Cuban soldiers made a good meal out of our rations.

We went swimming in the sea while boat load after boat load of soldiers were still landing from the transports.

In the early part of the afternoon we received order to assemble and march to Siboney. It was during the hottest part of the day. It was almost a forced march and we proceeded rapidly, the cavalry ahead of us. That broiling Cuban sun, the wonderful scenery around us, the luxurious vegetation, those tall palms, bending over us. We marched on a narrow, dusty, country road, along the slope of the high hills, the blue waters of the sea at our left. We were the advance guard on that day. We marched about fifteen miles and it was late in the afternoon when we halted and camped in a beautiful grove of tropical trees. While we were encamped and resting, regiment after regiment marched by us, the men dirty and worn out wearing their heavy flannel uniforms and took up positions further up the line for their encampment. We wanted to find a place to swim and cool off, but orders were issued to remain where we were and not to move a step from camp. There was a water pipeline running close to the grove, that supplied the city of Santiago with its water. Our engineers cut in that line and put faucets on it, so we had lots of cold fresh water to drink - so essential after that heavy march. The sun began to set back of these hills. Dark shadows began to fall all around us. A cool breeze started to blow, the palms were whispering to one another and they were undoubtedly wondering and asking who were those big men from the north, who were those armed strangers who came down to disturb their beautiful groves? A few miles from us to our right was the village of Siboney. Lights began to show from these poor huts; dogs were barking. Far off in the sea could be seen large bodies moving around with their few lights like large, glittering eyes- that was our blockading fleet. With their ponchos thrown over their shoulders, soldiers were strolling along slowly among the tents, talking in whispers. Snoring from tired men was heard mingled with the heavy steps of the pacing sentries. It was getting colder and the palms were getting noisier, the blanket of the night and rest fell over the camps.

The movement to envelop and capture Santiago de Cuba began at once. Early in the morning (June 24) troops began to move along the narrow road up those high hills. The First U.S.V. Cavalry (called Rough Riders) and the First U.S. Cavalry, composing one brigade, were the advance guard.

As we were to be the rear guard on that day, we broke camp and awaited our turn to move on, which would be when all other troops were considerably ahead of us. Finally, after our brigade started moving, we marched a few miles and took up a position on the extreme outskirts of the town of Siboney. As we marched through the town of Siboney, the Cubans turned out of their homes waving at us their hands and Cuban flags. After we pitched tents and everything seemed to look nice and peaceable, a bunch of us went swimming.

We camped close to the sea; the water looked clear and inviting; the day terribly hot. We were having a great time. The place where we were swimming was a reef of beautiful pink and white coral. In spots it looked like branches of trees; in other spots it had formed like natural bath tubs full of clear water. The edges of the reefs were sharp as needles.

Suddenly from the sea appeared two warships going at full speed and throwing columns of black smoke. They were the Texas and the Marblehead. And before we knew it they had opened fire, throwing their shells over our heads.

At that moment "call to arms" came from our camps, then "assembly." We could see the commotion from afar, everybody running for their guns; tents were pulled apart, canteens were thrown on shoulders; lines were being formed.

We jumped for our clothes and made a dash for our camp, dressing on the run. The leggings were the hardest to get on. The sergeants were cussing; the officers were threatening us with a court martial for leaving the camp in the time of hostilities without orders; the fellows that were already in line were giving us a laugh. Before we knew it we were in line with the others.

At the command "double time," we marched off, running through the village of Siboney, and halted at the narrow road leading up the hills. At the command "halt" and "left face" we stood at attention awaiting orders.

Meantime the Texas and the Marblehead got close to shore, still firing over us, the shells dropping on the slope of the hills.

We knew there was a battle being fought close by, but we could not see anything. A mounted Rough Rider, his horse foaming, swept down from the hills. He was all sweaty and excited. Saluting, he handed our commanding officer a package with orders.

There was considerable commotion among the officers. We stood leaning on our rifles in the hot, boiling sun for hours. It was a peculiar feeling. We expected every minute to get the command to move on that would throw us in the line of battle.

The body of Capt. Capron was brought down to Siboney and buried with the others on the slope of the hill. Later it was shipped to the states. He was a fine-looking young officer.

Those of us who were off duty walked down to Siboney to see the wounded. They were given treatment in the temporary hospital that was established by the Red Cross in a hut at Siboney. Then they were taken aboard ship and sent back to the states.

Note: Meyer Hurwitz incorrectly refers to Fish as a lieutenant rather than Sgt. Hamilton Fish.

Although the battle of Las Guasimas was of small magnitude, considering the casualties and the number of troops engaged, it is famous, mainly because in that battle Theodore Roosevelt received his first baptism of fire. Col. Leonard Wood of the Rough Riders was in the battle, too.

A troop of Rough Riders under the command of young Capt. Capron were the advance guard on that day (June 24), making the enveloping movement of the American Army toward Santiago. They advanced ahead of the main body.

In a narrow place on the road 3,000 Spanish troops were laying in ambush. It was a cool, early morning. The troop was enjoying the beautiful scenery and strolling leisurely, when a heavy volley was suddenly poured into the ranks.

Capt. Capron and Lieut. Hamilton Fish were the first to fall. All the other officers were wounded. Led by a sergeant, the Rough Riders rallied and took up position at the foot of the hill. Immediately returning fire, as volley after volley was poured in on them.

A troop of the First U.S. Cavalry, acting as flankers, was also fired on from the ambush. The Ninth and Tenth Cavalry (Negro troops) were to the left of the Rough Riders.

To the Rescue

Cheering wildly, their carbines smashing the thick underbrush, the Ninth Cavalry charged the Spaniards. The Tenth Cavalry soon caught up with the Ninth, while to the right, the Fifth Cavalry and the Twenty-first Infantry charged the right wing of the Spanish troops, Col. Wood, leading the first battalion of the Rough Riders, and Lieut. Col. Roosevelt, leading the second battalion of Rough Riders, quickly rallied to Capt. Capron's troop.

The Spaniards retreated, leaving about fifty dead. About 150 prisoners were taken by our troops carrying off the wounded.

As our brigade was not actually engaged in the battle of Las Guasimas, we were only under orders and waiting to advance. We were not given credit for that engagement.

When the body of the young captain was brought down to Siboney. The father, Capt. Capron, Sr., with his dashing Light Artillery C was encamped not far from there. The father, more than six feet tall, walked up to the body of his son, removed the blanket, stood at attention and saluted. Then he replaced the blanket, made a about-face, and without a word walked away.

All of us uncovered and saluted. Then came the task of burying the dead and taking care of the wounded.

From June 20 to 30 our regiment, the Twentieth Infantry, was kept busy. The regiment was split in two bodies. The first battalion was under Capt. Radman, in which I was assigned to guard duty at Siboney. The second battalion, under Capt. Green, was assigned to build roads so that the artillery, ammunition and all the heavy trucks could be advanced on Santiago.

Photo Caption: Body of Hamilton Fish - L-R : Gen. Henry Lawton, Richard Harding, Col. Leonard Wood & Lt. Col. Theodore Roosevelt.  

Building the Roads

The heavy work of road building fell onto First Seargent W.P. Waters of Company H, who now resides at 822 North Twenty-second street, East St. Louis, and who is a freight agent at the National Stockyards. We were short of engineers. First Sergeant Waters took charge of the second battalion. They built four miles of road, cutting the way through underbrush and trees, thus making the advance on Santiago possible.

While the second battalion was building roads in the boiling sun of Cuba, we boys in the first battalion were doing guard duty at the docks of Siboney. We were on duty two hours and off four hours.

Preparing for the Advance

Meanwhile regiment after regiment of regulars, some of volunteers, were sent up the high hills to take up position and prepare for the advance on Santiago.

Siboney was a very lively place. Troops were constantly unloading, mules, horses, provisions, ammunition, hospital supplies and so on. I remember seeing a dozen Red Cross nurses there.

While off duty, a bunch of us took a stroll to the camp of the Cuban troops. I saw Gen. Garcia, their leader, on horseback. He was very military, brave-looking officer, stoutly built. He looked a great deal like our Gen. Miles. He had a bullet scar on his forehead about a half inch deep.

Cuban Generals

We visited the tent of two other generals. They were full-blooded Indians. They shook hands with us and were very friendly. We also saw the notorious Gen. Gonzales, who was very handsome.

Our guard duty consisted of orders during the day and lots of challenges at night. We were taking good care of our commissary supplies; all loose canned goods and sacks of potatoes, beans and so on, going to our kitchen pots, where our cooks made good use of the stuff.

At 4 o'clock in the afternoon of June 30 our battalion was released from duty, as was the second battalion. The Thirty-third Michigan Volunteers released the Twentieth regiment at Siboney.

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