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Page 64
So the order was issued, and late in the afternoon of June 30th, in a
pouring rain, the camps were broken, and the drenched army eagerly
began its forward movement. Lawton's division marching off to the
right slipped and stumbled through the mud along a narrow, almost
impassable, trail over the densely wooded hills until eight o'clock
that evening, when, within a mile of Caney, it lay down for the night
in the wet grass without tents or fire, and amid a silence strictly
enjoined, for fear lest the Spaniards should discover its presence, and
run away before morning.
At the same time Wheeler's division of dismounted cavalry, including
the Rough Riders and Kent's infantry division, advanced as best it
could over the horrible Santiago road, ankle-deep in mud and water, to
El Poso Hill, on and about which it passed a wretchedly uncomfortable
night. Seven thousand heavily equipped men, mingled with horses,
artillery, pack-mules, and army wagons, all huddled into a narrow gully
slippery with mud, advance so slowly, however eager they may be to push
forward, that although the movement was begun at four o'clock, midnight
found the rearmost regiment still plodding wearily forward.
With the coming of daylight, on July 1st, the army lay beneath a dense
blanket of mist that spread its wet folds over the entire region they
were to traverse. It was eight o'clock before Grimes's battery of four
light field-pieces, posted on El Poso Hill, opened an ineffective fire
upon the heights across the broad valley. For twenty minutes the
Spaniards paid no attention to the harmless barking of the little guns;
then the smoke cloud hanging over them proved so admirable and
attractive a target that they could no longer resist firing at it. So
shells began to fall about the battery with such startling accuracy
that a score of Americans and Cubans gathered near it were killed or
wounded before they could seek shelter. Among these first victims of
the San Juan fight were several of the Rough Riders.
About this time General Sumner, temporarily in command of the cavalry,
was ordered to advance his troops into the valley as far as the edge of
the wooded belt, and within half a mile of the San Juan batteries.
"What shall I do when I get there?" asked General Sumner.
"Await further orders," was the curt reply.
There were other changes in commands that morning; for
Brigadier-General Young, being prostrated by a fever, the Colonel of
the Rough Riders was assigned to his duties, and became "General" Wood
from that hour. At the same time his Lieutenant-Colonel stepped into
the vacancy thus created, and as "Colonel" Roosevelt was destined to
win for himself and his dashing command immortal fame before the
setting of that day's sun.
So the Rough Riders, together with five other regiments of dismounted
cavalry, started down the deep-cut road, which in places was not over
ten feet wide, and was everywhere sticky with mud, while an entire
infantry division was crowded into it behind them. Like all other
roads in that country, this one, now densely packed with human beings
advancing at a snail's pace along nearly three miles of its length, was
bordered on both sides by an impenetrable tropical jungle.
The Spaniards were advised of the forward movement, and though they
could not see it, were already directing a hot fire at this road, of
whose location they were, of course, well aware, and from the outset
dead and wounded men marked the line of American progress. After a
mile of marching under these conditions, the foremost troops came to a
place where the San Juan River crossed the road. A short distance
beyond it crossed again, thus forming the ox-bow to be known ever after
that memorable day as the "Bloody Bend." A little farther on was open
country, and here General Sumner obeyed instructions by deploying his
troopers to the right in a long skirmish line on the edge of the
timber. In this position they lay down, sheltering themselves as best
they could behind bushes or in the tall hot grass, and anxiously
awaited further orders from headquarters. The Spanish fire, which they
might not return, was ceaseless and pitiless, though because of absence
of smoke none could see whence it came.
Already the loss in killed and wounded was assuming alarming
proportions, and still on-coming troops were pouring into that Bloody
Bend, where they must accept, with what fortitude they could command,
their awful baptism of fire. Fifty feet above their heads floated the
observation balloon of the engineers, betraying their exact position
and forming an admirable focus for the enemy's fire, which, after
awhile, to the vast relief of every one, shot the balloon to pieces so
that it dropped from sight among the trees.
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