English: Identifier: recentcampaignin00herr

Title: A recent campaign in Puerto Rico by the Independent Regular Brigade under the command of Brig. General Schwan Year: 1907 (1900s) Authors: Herrmann, Karl Stephen Subjects: Spanish-American War, 1898 -- Regimental histories Spanish-American War, 1898 -- Puerto Rico Puerto Rico -- History 1898-1952 Publisher: Boston, E. H. Bacon Contributing Library: The Library of Congress Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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Text Appearing Before Image: ARIAS ation during the recent war, in both Cubaand Puerto Rico. On the march, in thecharge or pursuit or retreat, it is a senseless,clogging, spirit-shackling incubus, a rank ab-surdity, and an utter impossibility. As aresult, after three days of active campaignthe infantryman is seen gayly stalking alongwith no burden save his rifle, ammunition-belt, and a wisp of gray blanket, whichseems to me to be a fatuous and footlesscondition of affairs that might well bequickly remedied for the benefit of all con-cerned. As we passed the occasional little haci-enda, set in its grove of cocoanut palms ororange-trees, dusky and wrinkled womencame forth from the doors, bearing upontheir heads huge jars, from which we filledour ever-parched canteens with cool, sweetwater. They also brought us mangoes andother native fruits, and queer cigars of mostabominable flavor. Because we were for-bidden to eat of the fruit, we stuffed our-selves with it, and looked for more. From 2 o c/2 r> o 2- 2. ^c crq

Text Appearing After Image: YAUCO TO LAS MARIAS 29 time to time a weary or sick soldier would lay himself down by the roadside, to be picked up later on by an ambulance; but, as the day wore on, the intervals of rest grew longer and more frequent. We had but one opportunity to water the sweating horses of the artillery, and then it was a painful matter of buckets. We munched hard-tack for our noonday meal, and made merry over it, talking of the day when we should go home and feast on beans and beefsteak and countless other things of which the heathen wot not. We were intensely voluble or silent by turns, and invented new nicknames for each other, which were so apt, spite of being touched with bitterness, that they stuck forevermore. And never, so far as I can remember, did any one mention the "Maine" or Cuba Libre.
At last, shortly after sunset, we descended a long, steep hillside, and went into camp in the valley of the Río Grande, just without the gates of a small town, uninteresting in character, and Sabana Grande by name. We had marched only twelve miles, but

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