One young man, then Private Thomas C. Butler, who
was practicing a difficult solo for the occasion, before the year
closed became a Second Lieutenant, having distinguished himself in
battle; the janitor, who cared for my singing books, and who was my
chief school teacher, Private French Payne, always polite and
everywhere efficient, met his death from a Spanish bullet while on the
reserve before bloody El Caney.
It was on a bright day during the latter part of March and near the
close of the day as I was looking out of the front window of my
quarters that I saw the trumpeter of the guard come out of the
Adjutant's office with a dispatch in his hand and start on a brisk run
toward the quarters of the Commanding Officer. I immediately divined
what was in the wind, but kept quiet. In a few minutes "officers'
call" was sounded, and all the officers of the post hastened to the
administration building to learn the news.
When all were assembled the Commanding Officer desired to know of each
company officer how much time he would need to have his company ready
to move from the post to go to a permanent station elsewhere, and from
all officers how much time they would require to have their families
ready to quit the station. The answers generally were that all could
be ready within a week.
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