Officers were exceedingly active and tireless in their efforts to inspire and encourage the men.  You could hear them call out, “Move right along; the Spaniards can’t shoot; they are using blanks.”  One officer deliberately stopped and lit his pipe amid a shower of bullets, and then moved on as unconcerned as if on target practice.

The rifle pits occupied by the enemy were intrenchments in reality, dug almost shoulder deep, and faced with stone, being constructed without approaches, leaving the only avenue for escape over the parapet, which was equivalent to committing suicide, in face of the unerring marksmanship of the United States troops.

We were afterward told by a Spanish soldier how they were held in these trenches by an officer stationed at each end with a club; also how they depended on their officers for everything.  This may account for the large percentage of our officers picked off by the Dons.  I observed during the battle that when spotted by the enemy, delivering orders or busying about such duties as usually indicated some one in authority, the Spanish would fire whole volleys at an individual, this evidently with a view to demoralizing the rank and file by knocking off the officers.

The Spanish also tried an old Indian trick to draw our fire, or induce the men to expose themselves, by raising their hats on sticks or rifles, or placing them upon parapets, so when we went to fire they would aim to catch us as we rose with a terrific volley.  The Dons were, however, soon convinced of their folly in this respect, as we always had a volley for the hats and a much stouter one for the enemy as he raised to reply to the volley at the hats.  The Tenth Cavalry had fought Indians too long in the West to be foiled in that manner.

We were annoyed much by the Spanish sharpshooters stationed in tops of the beautiful palms and other trees of dense foliage.  A number of these guerillas were found provided with seats, water and other necessaries, and I am told some of them had evidently robbed our dead to secure themselves an American uniform, that they might still carry on their nefarious work undetected.

Many of the disabled received their second and some their mortal wound, while being conveyed from the field by litter-bearers.

Though it was the tendency for a time to give the sharpshooter story little or no credence, but to lay the matter to “spent bullets”; it seemed almost out of the question that “spent bullets” should annoy our Division Hospital, some four or five miles from the Spanish works.  It would also seem equally as absurd that a bullet could be trained to turn angles, as several of our men were hit while assembled for transfer to general hospital and receiving temporary treatment at the dressing station located in an elbow of the San Juan River.