Those
unable to carry or secure guns had an old knife or machete strapped to
them.
On June 30, about 4 P.M., shortly after our daily shower, which was a
little more severe and much longer than usual, the regiment was put in
motion for the front. We had marched about 1600 yards when the war
balloon was seen ascending some distance to our right. As the balloon
question was new, every one almost was stumbling on the man's heels in
front, trying to get a peep at this wonderful war machine.
After much vexatious delay, narrow road crowded with troops, a pack
train came along and added its mite to the congestion, as some of the
mules turned their heels on the advancing column when pushed too much.
We finally merged into a beautiful lawn, site of the Division
Hospital, where all were as busy as beavers in placing this
indispensable adjunct in order. Here the work of July 1 was clearly
suggested. Proceeding, wading and rewading streams, we bivouacked
beyond the artillery on the heights of El Poso, an old sugar
plantation, about four miles off, in plain view of the city of
Santiago. The lights of the city showed so brightly, the enemy
offering no resistance to our advance, I could not help feeling
apprehensive of being in a trap. I thought so seriously over the
matter that I did not unroll my pack, so as to be ready at an instant.
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