ery four men.

During the first night we had dug trenches sufficient in length and
depth to shelter our men and insure safety against attack, but we had
not put in any traverses or approaches, nor had we arranged the
trenches at all points in the best places for offensive work; for we
were working at night on ground which we had but partially explored.
Later on an engineer officer stated that he did not think our work had
been scientific; and I assured him that I did not doubt that he was
right, for I had never before seen a trench, excepting those we
captured from the Spaniards, or heard of a traverse, save as I vaguely
remembered reading about them in books. For such work as we were
engaged in, however, the problem of intrenchment was comparatively
simple, and the work we did proved entirely adequate. No man in my
regiment was ever hit in the trenches or going in or out of them.

But on the first day there was plenty of excitement connected with
relieving the firing line. Under the intense heat, crowded down in
cramped attitudes in the rank, newly dug, poisonous soil of the
trenches, the men needed to be relieved every six hours or so.
Accordingly, in the late morning, and again in the afternoon, I
arranged for their release. On each occasion I waited until there was
a lull in the firing and then started a sudden rush by the relieving
party, who tumbled into the trenches every which way. The movement
resulted on each occasion in a terrific outburst of fire from the
Spanish lines, which proved quite harmless; and as it gradually died
away the men who had been relieved got out as best they could.
Fortunately, by the next day I was able to abandon this primitive,
though thrilling and wholly novel, military method of relief.

When the hardtack came up that afternoon I felt much sympathy for
the hungry unfortunates in the trenches and hated to condemn them to
six hours more without food; but I did not know how to get food into
them. Little McGinty, the bronco buster, volunteered to make the
attempt, and I gave him permission. He simply took a case of hardtack
in his arms and darted toward the trenches. The distance was but
short, and though there was an outburst of fire, he was actually
missed. One bullet, however, passed through the case of hardtack just
before he disappeared with it into the trench. A trooper named
Shanafelt repeated the feat, later, with a pail of coffee. Another
trooper, George King, spent a leisure