View on Cuban soldiers.

Little squads of Cuban soldiers were encountered from time to time, apparently anxious to get only as far as the rear of our advancing army.  These men display an appearance of courage just now that is marvelous.  Before the bluecoats came here they infested the inaccessible jungles at a safe distance from the Spanish guns, making an occasional midnight raid to keep the Spaniards on the lookout.  Now they can be seen on the roads in small groups relating to each, other how they cut down the Spanish marines with their national weapon on reaching the shore after their vessels were demolished by our navy.

The ragged refugees, fleeing in all directions and mingling freely with our troops, as they do, carry with them the filth of many generations and a rich supply of yellow fever germs which will ultimately kill more of our men than will the Spanish soldiers.

On reaching General Shafter’s headquarters I reported to Lieutenant Colonel Pope, chief surgeon of the Fifth army corps, for duty.  At head quarters is the principal field hospital, in charge of Major Wood, a graduate of Rush Medical College, ably assisted by Major Johnson and a corps of acting assisting surgeons.  At the time of my arrival sixty-eight wounded officers and men were under treatment.  Lieutenant Pope has worked night and day since the troops landed here.  He has done all in his, power to make his limited supplies meet the enormous demands.

Performs an amputation.

At this hospital Major Wood kindly invited me to perform an amputation of the thigh for gangrene caused by a gunshot injury which had fractured the lower portion of the femur, and cut the popliteal artery.  Here I found many interesting cases on the way to recovery in which the nature of the injury would have been ample excuse for rendering a very grave prognosis, among them a number of cases of penetrating wounds of the chest and abdomen.

In the afternoon I was accompanied to Canea by Acting Assistant Surgeon Goodfellow.  The trip was made for the purpose of taking charge of sixteen wounded Spaniards we were to transfer to the Spanish army.  On the way to Canea we found many recent graves and numerous dead horses, covered only with a few inches of dirt.  The stench from this source was almost unbearable.

The little village of Canea is located on the summit of a hill, with an old, dilapidated church as its center.  The public square and the few streets are thronged with refugees—­from 8,000 to 10,000 in number.  Crowds of refugees were also seen in the woods around the village gathering mangoes and cocoanuts, about the only food supply at the time.  In the only room of the church we found a representative of the Red Cross Association dealing out hardtack and flour to the hungry multitude.

The wounded Spaniards were lying in a row on the floor of the church—­one of them in a dying condition.  All that could be transported were conveyed in four ambulances under a small detachment of troops to our fighting line.  Here a flag of truce was secured, which was carried by an orderly.  The detachment was left behind and we passed our line.