In the present case, there would have been some excuse for faint-heartedness.  The crew of the “Yankee,” made up of men whose previous lives had been those of absolute peace, who had never heard a shot fired in anger before their arrival at Santiago, who had left home and business in defence of the flag—­these men went about their preparations for attacking the fortifications with as little apparent concern as if it were simply a yachting trip.

There was no holding back, no hesitancy, no looks of concern or anxiety, but when the signal to advance inshore appeared on the “New York,” at six bells (seven o’clock), there was a feeling of relief that the time of waiting was over.

We were to be in it at last.

The flagship’s signal to advance in formation was obeyed at once.  Moving in double column, the fleet stood in toward the batteries.  The first line, as we saw from the after port, was composed of the “Brooklyn,” “Texas,” “Massachusetts,” and “Marblehead.”  The line to which the “Yankee” was attached, included, besides that vessel, the “New York,” “Oregon,” “Iowa,” and “New Orleans.”  When within three thousand yards from shore, the first line turned toward the west, leaving us to steam in the opposite direction.

The batteries ashore could now be plainly distinguished.  Morro Castle, grim and defiant, seemed to ignore our coming, if the absence of life was any proof.  Lower down on the other side of the entrance where the Estrella and Catalena batteries were located, there seemed to be more activity.  Men could also be seen running about in some new batteries a little to the eastward of Morro Castle.  It was evident to us at once that the enemy had not anticipated an attack on such a rainy, windy day.

On swept the two lines of ships without firing a shot until they formed a semicircle, with the heavier vessels directly facing the forts; then the “New York” opened fire with one of her heavy guns, the “Iowa” following immediately.  At this moment, 7:45 a.m., the ships were arranged as follows, counting from the right:  “New York,” “Yankee,” “New Orleans,” “Massachusetts,” “Oregon,” “Iowa,” “Indiana,” “Texas,” “Marblehead,” and “Brooklyn.”  Guarding the extreme left were the “Vixen” and “Suwanee,” and doing similar duty on the other flank were the “Dolphin” and “Porter.”

The shot from the flagship was the signal for a general bombardment.  There was no settled order of firing, but each ship just “pitched in,” to use a common expression, and banged away at the forts with every available gun.

The scene on the gun deck of the “Yankee” was one never to be forgotten.  When the word to commence firing reached us, we sprang to the work at once.  Each crew paid strict attention to its own station, and the routine of loading and firing went on with the regularity of clockwork.  A number of boxes of the fixed ammunition had been “whipped” up from below while we were steaming into position, and there was no lack of death-dealing food for the hungry maws of the battery.