Springfield in the Spanish American War

The sad scenes attending the disembarkation of the Second from the Mobile will not be forgotten for many a day by those who witnessed or participated in them. A number of the sick men were taken off late in the afternoon of the 19th, but when dusk fell Gen. Young, the commander of the camp, refused to allow any more to be brought ashore until the next day. The next morning the exodus from the ship began at an early hour and continued until at last we were all ashore. First came the sick in a ghastly procession down the steep gang planks and into the ambulances which were to convey them to the hospitals and the sight of the poor fellows was pathetic in the extreme. The sick ashore, then came those able to walk or totter and these men, the majority of them wrecks of their once vigorous selves, dragged themselves to the pier laden down with their baggage and fell in for the march to the camp. Those unable to walk were piled into mule wagons and the procession started.

It was not a long march, but it was a fatiguing one for the men and they were glad when the big wall tents assigned to the Second appeared. This was the "detention" camp for in the eyes of the medical officers we were still suspects even if we had passed quarantine, and we were to be isolated for five days. It was not a bad camp. The tents were new and clean and many of them were provided with board floors, a luxury that reminded us of our militia days at South Framingham. It had been the intention of the war department to provide straw for us to sleep on but like many other intentions it was not fulfilled until Secretary Alger happened to visit the camp of the Second and found no straw. Then some came along in a hurry. There were cooking outfits, too, and the days of the canned roast beef and the other constituents of the palatable and nourishing (?) travel ration were numbered. In their place came the appetizing beef stew, the roast beef, soft bread and cool milk. There were also canned delicacies, and fruits, and tobacco in plenty. In fact, there were too many good things for some of the boys, as the hospital records attest.

It is needless to say that the hospitals were filled. They were overcrowded, and that, too, in spite of the fact that additions were put on as fast as possible. The hospitals were of canvas but with raised floors and were equipped with cots. What the emotions of the sick boys were when they actually found themselves lying on a bed and between clean white sheets, and tended by kind and devoted nurses can be imagined. Not only that but they were given plenty of nourishing food and medicine was in plenty. After the lack of everything of the hospitals in Cuba the contrast was sharp, even though the Montauk hospitals lacked some things. As for the nurses and the doctors there was nothing they were unwilling to do to help the sick. Many of the nurses were Sisters of Charity or Sisters of Mercy, others were from the Red Cross society, others volunteers, but all were actuated by the same motives, and worked unremittingly to do all in their power for the boys. Some of the doctors were army surgeons and others were contract surgeons, but all worked alike. Then, too, there were any number of volunteer hospital assistants, all zealous to help us, some of them a little too much so, and it was a rare thing for the sick men in a hospital ward to lack for attention. Diet kitchens were established and a system of looking after convalescent and furloughed soldiers was established. In this work the noble efforts of the Massachusetts Volunteer Aid Association was pre-eminent and there are none of us who will forget what its representatives did, not only at Camp Wikoff but after our return to our homes. Not only did the society work among the soldiers from Massachusetts, but many a regular soldier was aided and comforted by its representatives.

Under the influence of proper care and food the men in the hospitals and the camps began to improve and though many died, yet more recovered. As soon as a soldier inmate of the hospital was anywhere near convalescence he was given a furlough to his home and transportation furnished him. At first these furloughs were only for ten days but after a bit they were lengthened to 30 days so that when the Second came to leave Montauk a good percentage of the officers and men had preceded it home. A large number of the sick men were taken from the camp hospital and sent to New York, New London, New Haven and other places where the local hospitals had opened their doors to the soldiers and where the care they received was in some respects better than that possible under the crowded conditions at Montauk.

In spite or all that could be done at Montauk there were many instances of individual hardship and although it seemed as if there were at least two or three people anxious and willing to look after every soldier yet there were cases of apparently unnecessary suffering. Soldiers discharged from the hospitals as convalescent would be sent to the depot at Montauk, a good two miles from the hospital, on foot and would be compelled to wait for hours in the hot sun before they could get transportation orders. At the depot there were often good men and women with cans of milk or lemonade and food, but even their zealous efforts could not prevent some suffering. All this was perhaps inseparable from the overcrowded condition of the camp and hospitals and the fact that there were not nearly enough officers to do the work properly.

On the 24th the regiment was released from quarantine and moved from the detention to the general camp. By this time rumors that we were to be furloughed and sent home were rife again and the date was finally fixed for the 26th. Meanwhile there had been some important visitors in our camp, including Col. Roosevelt, Secretary of War Alger and Gen. Wheeler and they all had good words to say for the Second. Also there were many visitors from Springfield and Western Massachusetts and the men were fed upon all kinds of delicacies, in some cases to the detriment of their health.

Musician Frank P. Jones of K company was the only Springfield man to die in Montauk, his death occuring on the 27th, after he had suffered for days with malarial fever of the Cuban type. He had not been ill in Cuba but the seeds of the disease lodged in his system there and in his weak condition when we landed at Montauk he was unable to resist it. We heard while at Montauk of the death in Cuba of Private Arthur M. Burnham of K and there were many regrets among his comrades. Private Burnham was ill when the regiment left Santiago for home and so was left behind.

On the 25th verbal orders furloughing the Second for 60 days were received and the regiment was ordered to be in readiness the next day to proceed home. At the expiration of the furlough the regiment was to be mustered out at South Framingham but this was afterwards changed to Springfield. The officers and men were all ready on the 26th to go home and the night before had been spent in packing up and putting everything in shape. The rifles and equipments had been turned in and the morning was eagerly anticipated. There was much disappointment when the day came and there were no signs of an immediate movement from the camp. Hour after hour passed and when it was finally ascertained that the departure was deferred to the next day because of a lack of transportation, there was nothing but disappointment from the commanding officer down to the privates. But the Second had by this time learned resignation and so the men waited through the long day and the equally long night for the word that the boat which was to convey the regiment to New London was ready.

The night of the 26th was made memorable by a wild stampede of a number of horses of the cavalry through the camp of the Second. The animals were being led to water and in some manner became frightened and getting away from the man in charge ran pell mell through the company streets of the regiment, upsetting stacks of arms and tents and leaving everything in much disorder. Fortunately no one was injured.

There was but little sleep in the camp that night. The boys were too much excited over the prospect of being at home on the morrow to care much for slumber, and they were up long before reveille sounded. Breakfast was hastily cooked and eaten and the outfit, or what was left of it, fell in for the march to the boat, some three miles away. There were ambulances for the sick and these were filled again and again. The men able to march were not numerous, and the companies did not have full ranks by any means. The men were without arms and clad in all sorts of uniforms, the yellow and blue Khaki predominating, although there were some who preferred the old militia blue uniforms they had worn from South Framingham. The regiment finally started for the pier amid the cheers of the 22d and other regiments it passed, and a short time after embarking was once more on the water but bound for home this time. The sick men who were unable to stand the journey were left in the hospital and those allowed to go were carefully looked after.

Arrived at New London the regiment fell at once into good hands. The people of that city had known of its coming and delegations were on hand when the boat came in, with food and refreshments for the boys. Meanwhile preparations had been made by the militia authorities of the state, and the people of Springfield and other places interested in the Second, to look after the men. Gen. Dalton had sent a detail of staff officers to Springfield with full power as to expenses to see that the returning soldiers who had shed credit upon Massachusetts were properly looked after, and a special train had been made up to go to New London to bring them on from there. Food and refreshments were taken on the train, and representatives of state and city were on board to render all possible assistance. The trip was a comparatively short one. At Palmer the three Worcester companies and F of Gardner were transferred to a train for their destination while the other companies came on to Springfield.

CHAPTER XVIII

IN WHICH IS TOLD HOW WE PREPARE TO QUIT UNCLE SAM'S SERVICE

THE home coming of Springfield's soldiers was not as glittering or gay a spectacle as had been counted upon by those who watched us march away on the morning of May 3d. That morning was a rainy and disagreeable one and there were many who consoled themselves in thinking of the rather tame character of our farewell, that when we returned the scene would be a far more cheerful and inspiriting one. It wasn't. For days and days, ever since the story of our losses at El Caney and San Juan had been known and the people had become somewhat familiar with the tales of sickness and suffering in Cuba and Camp Wikoff, the return of the boys had been anxiously awaited, but when the time came, when it was known for a certainty that the companies were to return, there was a common feeling that the occasion would be an ill timed one for any display of ceremony or pageantry, and as it became more known that the majority of the officers and men were in the poorest possible condition to stand the strain of an official, or even a semi-official welcome it was settled that their return was to be as quiet as possible.

The coming of the regiment from Montauk had been expected on the 26th and in anticipation a huge crowd had gathered at the union station to meet the soldiers. But the people were repaid for hours of waiting by the arrival only of a few men who had been furloughed from the hospitals. On the next day it was soon known that the regiment would surely arrive and long before the hour set for the special train to arrive from New London the station and its approaches were crowded with people, including the relatives and friends of the members, not only of the Springfield companies but of the companies from the other sections of Western Massachusetts. In view of the condition of the soldiers special efforts had been made to impress upon the people that the less excitement the men were made to undergo the better for them and to this end the station approaches were roped off and a large force of police was on hand to keep a passageway clear from the cars to the carriages which had been provided to bear the officers and men to their homes or wherever they felt inclined to go.

The state and the city co-operated well in making plans for the comfort of the returning soldiers. Gov. Wolcott was on hand when the special train rolled in and three members of his staff had been at work for several days previous assisting in the preparations for the reception of the men. Mayor Dickinson and the city officials had done everything in their power to aid the soldiers and with them at all times were the officers and members of the Volunteer Aid association and many private citizens, good men and women who labored zealously in the good cause. Others there were, too, not connected officially with state or city or with any society, but whose work was ably done and is never to be forgotten.

At 2.58 in the afternoon the train came in and the 10,000 people in waiting set up a cheer at the initiative of Gov. Wolcott. Then the people pressed hard against the ropes which marked the clear space on the platform through which the men were to go and the police officers had their hands full for a time in keeping them back. The north side waiting room had been cleared of occupants and outside were hundreds of public and private carriages waiting to carry the boys wherever they might wish. And in this one detail of carriages the thoughtfulness of the people of the city as well as their willingness to do all in their power for the boys of the Second were shown. Scores of them had volunteered the use of their carriages that day and their offers had been gladly accepted, for in the majority of cases the men were hardly able to walk any distance, and a ride on a jolting electric car would not have been the best thing in the world for them. But there were carriages in plenty and the men were quickly and carefully conveyed either to their homes or the hospitals.

When the train stopped the people detailed to look after the disembarkation of the men at once got to work and the boys were quickly but tenderly taken through the waiting room and placed in the carriages. There were many who were unable to walk even this short distance unassisted, but in the majority of cases the men were so glad to be once more at home that the excitement kept them up and some lingered about on the platform, exchanging greetings with their relatives or friends in the crowd. A number of physicians were on hand to look after any of the men who were in immediate need of their attention and in many other ways provision had been made for all. The majority of the men were driven directly to their homes. Others went to the House of Mercy or the Springfield hospital.

The 10,000 or more people which greeted the returned ones did so in sober but cordial fashion. There was no demonstrative welcome, for common sense told the people that it would have been the worst thing possible for the men whom the crowd wanted to honor. They were in no condition to endure such a welcome and what they wanted was to get to their homes or a resting place as quickly as possible. When the Second went away it was in the blue uniform of the militia of Massachusetts. The men in the ranks were all young and vigorous and looked a composite picture of youth and strength. When they came back it was in the faded yellow khaki uniforms issued to them in Cuba, although a few still wore the blue. The natty uniforms of the officers were worn and soiled and the faces of all were haggard and in many cases the beards of veterans had replaced the smooth cheeks and chins of the militiaman. On almost every face was the badge of the campaign against the pestilential fevers of Cuba and the sunken cheek-bones and emaciated forms bore eloquent witness to the hardships and sufferings that had been undergone. It had been no holiday excursion for the gallant Second.

For days and weeks after the return the greatest interest was shown in the welfare of the men. Physicians placed their services at the disposal of the Volunteer Aid association and that body kept actively at work in its efforts to care for the men. Some of the boys were able to be out on the streets and in public places immediately after their arrival but in the majority of cases the men were glad enough to stay at home. Others were too ill to make their appearance in public, but those who were had no reason to complain of any lack of interest in them or their doings in Cuba. Columns were published daily in the newspapers concerning the condition of the sick men and the experiences of the well ones and the sight of the worn campaign uniform on the street was the occasion for a gathering of interested people. But as time went on the interest slackened, as it is in the nature of things so to be, the men showed a marked preference for citizens' dress instead of the uniform, and settled down again to the ordinary ways of life while waiting for their furloughs to expire and their muster out of the service of Uncle Sam.

There had been much concern expressed over the orders instructing the Second to assemble at South Framingham for muster-out and there was much satisfaction when it was known that the orders had been changed and that Springfield had been selected as the place. It was felt that this was fitting and proper and both the local members of the regiment and the people of the city were well pleased at the decision of the war department.

Meanwhile the men who had been left behind in Cuba, at Montauk and in hospitals at other places continued to arrive home and some time before the expiration of their furlough nearly all the surviving members of the Second were at home. From Cuba came the men who were left behind too sick to be moved when the regiment left for home and with them the men who had volunteered or been detailed to remain care for them. But all of them did not come. Privates Little and Stetson of G company had succumbed to disease and Dr. H. C. Bowen, the surgeon of the Second, was also a victim. He was in the division hospital when the regiment sailed and his death soon followed.

The fate which befell Dr. Bowen was a hard one. Enthusiastic to volunteer at the outbreak of the war he was assigned to duty as the surgeon of the Second with the rank of major and he had high hopes of a useful career in the army as had his friends for him. But he was totally without experience in army medical life, his assistant surgeons, though young and enthusiastic in their profession, were also inexperienced in this line of work and at the very outset he and they were thwarted and discouraged by their incessant conflicts with army red tape and the consequent difficulty in obtaining needed medical supplies for the regiment. Time and time again Major Bowen sent in requisition after requisition but no supplies came in answer to them and had it not been for the finely appointed medical and surgical outfit furnished by the state of Massachusetts the equipment of the Second would have been meager indeed. With these on hand the lack of proper government supplies was not seriously felt until after the landing in Cuba and then with the brilliancy which marked so many other features of the campaign, the Second's medical chest was not brought ashore, but was left on board the Knickerbocker until some time after the surrender of Santiago. As a result the medical supplies were short and though he tried again and again Major Bowen could obtain no more. Soon after he landed he was attacked by the malarial fever and though at first it was in a mild form it combined with the discouragements to which he had been subjected to make him low-spirited and not altogether a genial minister to the sick men or a companion at the mess. Directly after the battle of El Caney Assistant Surgeon Gates was taken from the Second and attached temporarily to the Fourth infantry, which regiment had no surgeon and Assistant Surgeon Hitchcock became ill so that the entire work of caring for the Second was thrown upon Major Bowen. This added to his other troubles and his own illness resulted in making the latter extremely serious and though he struggled against it for many weeks he was at last forced to give up. Before this he had manfully stuck to his post and tried in every way to do his duty but results of his failing health and his heavy burden of work were mistaken by many of the officers and men for lack of sympathetic feeling and for this he was criticized. This criticism was a mistaken one, for at bottom Major Bowen was of a kindly and sympathetic nature but it was his misfortune to have his illness and troubles put a veneer of impatience upon his normal disposition and this conveyed the mistaken idea referred to above. In his service with the Second Major Bowen did all possible for a man to do and those who knew the heavy burden under which he toiled have always been willing to accord him the tribute he was justly entitled to. He died in the Second division hospital just outside of Santiago. Some months after his body was exhumed and sent to his family in Westfield. There was some mystery concerning the whereabouts of his watch and other effects but some time after his death they were accidentally discovered in New Orleans and restored to his parents.

At Montauk Point K company suffered a loss in the death of Musician Frank P. Jones, who succumbed to fever in the camp hospital August 27th. All through the campaign in Cuba Musician Jones not only kept himself well and his spirits up but his cheery speech did much to help his comrades. It was not until he reached Montauk that he gave in to the disease which laid so many of the Second low.

Even after the regiment had returned home and the sick men were being given the best of medical attention and care in their homes or in the hospitals the death angel did not cease. On Sept. 13th Corporal Patrick J. Noone of G company died at his home after a long illness with the fever and two days later his remains were escorted to the grave by his comrades and laid to rest after the three volleys which mark the soldier's burial had been fired. On October 8, Private Frank Burke of G died and was laid to rest in the same cemetery.

Meanwhile in both the Mercy and the Springfield hospitals all that was possible was being done for the sick "soldier boys," and physicians and nurses were untiring in their efforts. Both institutions had many soldier patients and they will long remember the devoted care and kindnesses they received.

All this time preparations for the muster-out of the Second had been going steadily on. It had been settled that the outfit was to be formally discharged from the United States service in Springfield and on Sept. 28th First Lieut. Oliver Edwards, 11th Infantry U. S. A., came on to assist in the work preliminary to muster-out. There was considerable to be done in the way of getting ready for the ceremony and there were many things to be explained to both officers and men before all was in readiness. In the effort to have everything clearly understood and all the "kinks" straightened out Lieut. Edwards was untiring and he made a most favorable impression upon all with whom his duties brought him in contact.

CHAPTER XIX

WE BECOME PLAIN CITIZENS ONCE MORE AND SQUARE ACCOUNTS WITH UNCLE SAM

OCTOBER 3d, 1898, is one of the "star" days in the history of the Second, that being the day on which we ceased to be soldiers of the United States and became plain and humble citizens once more. Incidentally it was something of a day for Springfield for one of the features of the muster-out was a brief parade of the regiment from the railway station to the state armory, where the exercises occurred. Before that, the armory had been for some time the scene of much activity. The furlough of the regiment, given it at Montauk, had expired October 24th, and for the rest of the time preceding muster-out the officers and men were required to make the armory their home during the day. Their meals were served there, a contract being made with a Springfield caterer, and it can be said that the daily menu was far more satisfactory than those we had in the campaign although the government paid for both. During this period, the officers and men were also required to appear in uniform and the streets took on a decidedly military appearance. Much interest was shown by the people of the city in everything that pertained to the muster-out and the armory had many visitors daily. But it was all play in those days for some of the officers and men. There is a lot of red tape and formality connected with putting volunteer organizations out of the United States service, and there was plenty of work to be done in making out rolls and all sorts of papers, so that those detailed for this work were kept busy for many days.