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Updated: July 9, 2025
In the Cuban campaign the day the American forces landed at Siboney a major-general of volunteers took up his head-quarters in the house from which the Spanish commandant had just fled, and on the veranda of which Caspar Whitney and myself had found two hammocks and made ourselves at home.
After the fight he was sent to Siboney with the rest of the wounded, but two days later he appeared in camp. He had marched from Siboney, a distance of six miles, and uphill all the way, carrying his carbine, canteen, and cartridge-belt. "I thought you were in hospital," Wood said. "I was," Rowland answered sheepishly, "but I didn't seem to be doing any good there."
“It was arranged we were to go to Siboney about 9.30, so Sampson, Staunton, and I put on our leggings, got some sandwiches, filled a flask, and the ship started to go the seven miles to Siboney, where we were to find horses and a cavalry escort.
I do not think that more than fifty per cent. of them were fit for any kind of active duty, and if they had been ordered to march back to Siboney between sunrise and dark, or to move a distance of ten miles up into the hills, I doubt whether even forty per cent. of them would have reached their destination.
As fast as possible the wounded were taken in army wagons from the field-hospital to Siboney, where they were put on board the transports, and at eight o'clock on Tuesday evening Major Johnson was able to report to Major Wood that every wounded man left in the hospital was in a tent, with a rubber poncho or tarpaulin under him and a blanket over him.
"Don't put him in there, please," nodding toward the trench behind the tents; "and mark his grave, won't you, Doctor? He's my bunkie." "All right," said Willings, kindly. "And Doctor, give me that what he has in his hand, please. I know her." A tent at Siboney in the fever-camp overlooking the sea. "Judith! Judith! Judith!" The doctor pointed to the sick man's name. "Answer him?"
Although the sun was still below the horizon, the atmosphere was crystal-clear, and we could see without a glass the step-like outline of Morro Castle, and even the hazy blue smoke rising from the camp-fires on-the beach at Siboney; but of the war-ships the New York, the Brooklyn, the Indiana, and the Texas there was not a sign. I do not know what Mr.
There are fifty others at the base who keep the wire loaded with rumors, so when after great difficulty we get the correct news back to Daiquire a Siboney there is no room for it. Some of the "war correspondents" have absolutely nothing but the clothes they stand in, and the others had to take up subscriptions for them.
We were seventeen days on the transport, but did not suffer. Every one is in good spirits and anxious to get at the dons. The following breezy letter was written by a Washington lad in the trenches around Santiago: Siboney, July 7. My Dear General: Have really been too busy to write. Have been in a real nice, lively battle, and wasn't a bit scared and didn't run. The poor old Twenty-fourth.
When General Shafter landed at Siboney, he not only disregarded the recommendation of his chief surgeon to burn the buildings there, but allowed them to be occupied as offices and hospitals, without even so much as attempting to clean or disinfect them. Yellow fever made its appearance in less than two weeks.
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