In removing his, Sergeant Smith,
on, my immediate left, was assisted by a Spanish bullet, and an
infantry soldier fell as my pack was thrown off to the right. In
seeking cover men simply dropped to the right and left of the road in
a prone position.
The regiment was here subjected to a terrific converging fire from the
blockhouse and intrenchments in front and the works further to the
left and nearer the city. The atmosphere seemed perfectly alive with
flying missiles from bursting shells over head, and rifle bullets
which seemed to have an explosive effect. Much fire was probably drawn
by the war balloon, which preceded the regiment to a point on the edge
of the river, near the ford, where it was held. This balloon
undoubtedly rendered excellent service in locating positions of the
Spanish works and developing an ambush which had been laid for us, but
the poor, ill-fated balloon certainly received many uncomplimentary
remarks during our stay in its vicinity.
It seemed as though the Spanish regarded the balloon as an evil agent
of some kind, and as though every gun, both great and small, was
playing on it. I made several trips under it following the Colonel,
who repeatedly rode up and down the stream, and I would have been
fully satisfied to have allowed my mind even to wander back to the
gaily lighted ball rooms and festivals left behind only a few months
before.
Pages:
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371