Packing Company.  Fried steak every morning, roast or stew for dinner and bacon for supper.  We eat lightbread and not hardtack now.  There are a good many transports laying in the harbor here.  There is a basin here in the park like the one in the market house there at home, which we use to bathe our face and hands in.  This letter might be a long time in coming, as the boat does not run regularly.  Well, I will close for this time.  With much love for you and the rest, I remain your affectionate son,

Page Ligon.

By lieutenant colonel Nicholas Senn, U. S. V., Chief of operating
staff with the army in the field at Santiago.

Headquarters Fifth Army Corps, Before Santiago, July 12.

As the hospital ship Relief came in sight of the seat of war every one of its passengers watched with interest and anxiety the indications of the present status of the conflict.  When we sailed from Fortress Monroe Sunday, July 3, fighting was in progress, and, not having received information of any kind since that time, we were impatient for news.

On reaching Guantanamo we came in sight of a number of warships floating lazily on the placid ocean like silent sentinels some six to eight miles from the shore.  The little bay was crowded with empty transports, all of which indicated that we were not as yet in possession of Santiago.  The pilot of a patrol boat finally, in a voice like that of a foghorn, communicated to us the news that the greater part of the Spanish fleet had been destroyed and that the Spanish loss in dead, wounded and prisoners was great.  Among the most important prizes of the naval battle was the heroic admiral of the Spanish fleet, who was then a prisoner on board of one of the men-of-war.  The land forces were near the city making preparations for the first attack.  A partial if not a complete victory had been won, and we had the consolation of knowing that we had not come in vain.

Red cross flag flying.

Our captain was directed to bring his ship to anchor near Siboney.  When we came in sight of this little mining town we saw on shore rows of tents over which floated the Red Cross flag, showing us that we had reached the place for which we had been intended.

The little engine of a narrow-gauge mining railroad was puffing and screeching up and down along the coast, conveying supplies from the landing to the camp.  On the side of a hill were the shelter tents of a company of infantry on detail for guard duty.  On the crest of a number of high hills which fringe the coast could be seen blockhouses recently vacated by the Spaniards.  A grove of palm trees in a near valley reminded us that we had reached the tropical climate.

The steamer Olivette, floating the Red Cross flag, anchored near the shore.  Major Appel, surgeon in charge of this hospital ship, was the first person to board our vessel, and gave us the first reliable account of the recent battle.  His appearance was enough to give us an insight into his experiences of the last few days.  He was worn out by hard work and his anxiety for the many wounded under his charge.