Philippines Race War and the White People of Dallas Cheering

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RACE WAR THE PHILIPPINES INSURRECTION & RAGING VICIOUS DALLAS

Figure 1- This cartoon denounces the Balangiga Affair and Massacre. It has in the upper left-hand corner a quote by Gen. Smith to kill every person over ten years of age. What needs to be understood about the following articles in the Dallas Morning News (DMN) is that the editors of the DMN favorably received these letters send home by soldiers from Texas stationed there and assumed that the white people of Dallas would receive these letters with enthusiasm and consider the writers as heroes. These letters show the popular understanding and enthusiasm of Dallas for a race war against the Filipino peoples. The DMN owes the Filipino people an apology but given who the DMN is I don’t think it will happen. If the DMN printed one apology for their historical crimes, there would be a question about other things the DMN has done and there would have to be hundred or thousands of apologies and a database to hold them also. I am going to be content to making sure no street, school or other named place is named after their editors, publishers and other vile persons who had a byline on their pages.


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All those who supported this vicious war of crushing the Filipino people should not have any place in Dallas County named after them. There also needs to be a street named after Emilio Aguinaldo, the leader of the Filipino freedom forces who sought to have an independent Philippine republic, a goal which ran counter to the United States desire to emulate the white world-wide imperialism of the Europeans. NOTE: I am going to report the articles as they were published. I think their horrible enormity is not entirely comprehended if I use asterisks to not fully spell out the racist slur n*gger. Also, to help identify where the word is used, I will use boldface for the word, as well as for other racist slurs, and where they call the Filipinos “negroes,” so it can be found in some of these longer accounts. I think that showing how capitalization were used at the time is also important as part of knowing the history. So, this is your TRIGGER WARNING. Stop here if there is a possibility, however remote, that you are likely to be posting on Facebook complaints that you weren’t forewarned or are a sort of whiner in general. I am forewarning you now. Sometimes the typos in the news articles are obvious and I will supply the missing letter in brackets []. I am also going to slightly quotations them to facilitate easier understanding where a quote begins and ends. When there is a spelling error that I recognize I will put [sp] after it. However, I will not correct spellings which were considered correct, allowable, or common at the time of the article. I won’t correct spellings where the meaning is clear even with the spelling error. Finally, when I can’t read the original I will just indicate that there were letters, a word, or words with a series of question marks, such as “????.” When it is just one character I will use one question mark. The American invasion and subjugation of the Filipinos was brutal and savage, there were atrocities and massacres, concentration camps, and the application of torture. The death toll was horrific. Besides Filipino independence fighters dying in their struggle for freedom, a great many, a huge number of Filipinos civilians died in the vicious murderous actions of American soldiers.1 Though there are reasons to question some estimates due to problems with the historical records, some “historical” estimates grossly underestimate the total fatalities. Scholar Usha Mahajani states that 200,000 civilians died, “who were executed or died of torture, hunger, and diseases such as malaria and dysentery, resulting at least partly from the American policy of burning crops, massacring villagers, and cramping them in concentration camps.”2 However, 1

A good account of the atrocities of the war is “Benevolent Assimilation: American Conquest of the Philippines, 1899-1903,” Yale Univ. Press, New Haven, CT, 1982. 2 Mahajani, Usha, “Philippine Nationalism: External Challenge and Filipino Response, 1565-1946,” Univ. of Queensland Press, 1971.


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some estimates have been much higher.3 For war dead, Leon Wolff in his book, “Little Brown Brother,” an ironic title based on the racism involved in American Philippine policy, also estimates 200,000 for civilian dead, and states that Americans had an official count of soldiers killed at 16,000, but that, “the true total exceeded 20,000.”4 Andrew Clem, in his 2016 online paper, “The Filipino Genocide,” offers a short and immediate account of the atrocities of Americans. It is online and free to download here: https://scholarcommons.scu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1138&context=historicalperspectives At the time there were Americans who were appalled by the brutality of American intervention in the Philippines, but they were brushed aside, something which has become an ongoing tradition in American foreign policy. This article is a news article which shows the reality of the brutality of the American invasion there. This was the first article in which it was reported that the American troops were using the term “n*gger” to refer to Filipinos. This article is not one of the letters sent home from American soldiers stationed there. I place it prior to the American soldier letters out of chronological order so that the soldier letters have a context. This article is, “Report on Philippines: Serious Charges Are Made Against the Officers of the American Army by Major Gardiner,” DMN, April 11, 1902, page 3. Washington, April 10.— When the Senate Committee on the Philippines, met today Senator Lodge, chairman of the committee, laid before it the report of Major Cornelius Gardiner, Civil Governor of the Philippine province of Tabayas, to which reference was made by Gen. Miles in his correspondence with Secretary Root. This report had been withheld and cause the adoption of a resolution at the last meeting of the committee requesting the Secretary of War to send it to the committee. In the course of the report the Governor says: “Almost without exception soldiers and also many officers refer to the natives in their presence as ‘niggers,’ and natives are beginning to understa[n]d what the word ‘nigger’ means.

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Gates, John M., “War Related Deaths in the Philippines, 1898-1902,” Pacific Historical Review, Vol. 53, No. 3 (Aug. 1984), pp. 367-3785, discusses the various attempts to calculated the number of civilian deaths and the challenges and problems involved, and also the historical origins of some quotes. However, 200,000 , used by Mahajani, is a reasonable estimate. 4 Wolff, Leon, “Little Brown Brother,” History Book Club edition, 2006, original edition copyright 1961, quote on page 360.


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“The course now being pursued in this province and in the provinces of Batangas, Laguna and Samar is, in my opinion, sowing the seeds for a perpetual revolution against us hereafter whenever a good opportunity offers. Under present conditions the situation in this province is slowly retrograding and the American sentiment is decreasing and we are daily making permanent enemies. “In the course above referred to, troops make no distinction often between the property of those natives who are insurgents or insurgent sympathizers and the property of those who heretofore have risked their lives by being loyal to the Unites States and giving us information against their countrymen in arms. Often every house in a barrio is burned. “It might have been stated that a Filipino or an Oriental does not appreciate just or kindly treatment and that he considers it an evidence of weakness, and that severe and harsh measures are the only ones that are permanently effective with Filipinos. I have found that just and kind treatment, uniform and continued, is the only way by which these people can become our friends and satisfied with United States sovereignty. “Having been stationed six years on the Rio Grande, I am well acquainted with the natives of the State of Tamallipas [sp], Mexico, and while stationed in the province of Santa Clara, Cuba, I visited every town in that province and was able to observe the intelligence and education there. I believe that the people of Tabayas province are in every way superior in education, intelligence, morals and civilization to the people of Tamaulipas or Santa Clara. “As an officer of the army I regret that my duty as Civil Governor of this province impels me to state the attitude of the majority of my fellow officers towards civil government in these islands and its effects upon the people, but I feel that the interests of the Government involved and the future of these people, for whose welfare we are responsible, are of such vast import that I ought to report things as I see and know them, that my civil supporters may be able intelligently to order what the situation needs.” With the report is a copy of a letter by Gen. Corbin to Gen. Chaffee, dated Feb. 19, saying he incloses the report of Major Gardiner and that there should be a complete investigation. There also is a cable message dated April 2, in which Gen. Chaffee is directed to make the investigation with all speed consistent with a thorough investigation.

“One of Funston’s Fighters: Sergt. Bob Maxwell’s Adventures on the Firing Line in the Philippines,” DMN, June 28, 1899, page 10. The paper the letter is written on and the


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envelop it was sent on is likely looted from a Filipino. Notice that he is justifying certain tactics by saying that a “civilized army” would not be able to do what they did. Mr. W.S. Maxwell of the Texas and Pacific general freight department recently received the following letter from his brother, Bob Maxwell, who is one of Gen. Fred Funston’s fighting men: San Fernando, P.I., May 8.—Dear brother and sisters: Please excuse this paper and the envelop I must use, but it is all the country affords. The paper we found when we entereed [sp] San Fernando, and the envelop I must make. The last letter I wrote you was in Malolos. I told you then that I thought one more battle would end our fighting days; but I was sadly mistaken. Since then we have met larger forces and taken more trenches than ever before, trenches that one civilized army could never take from another. I will give you an outline of our movements since then. On Monday morning, April 25, we got up at 3 o’clock and long before daylight were ready to move and were waiting for orders; but orders did not come that day. Next morning we ate breakfast at 4 o’clock and started forward at daylight. The Kansas took her position on the left of the railroad and marched forward in a column of fours with a scouting party in the lead. Two armored cars were pushed up the track, one carrying a three-inch armor piercing gun and a Hotchkiss rapid fire, the other car had a one-pound rapid fire gun and a Gatling gun. Then there was another car manned with thirty sharpshooters, armed with Krag-Jorgensen rifles. Our regiment followed the road through the prettiest country I ever saw. Nature has painted a prettier picture here than any artist could ever hope to do. The road wound around through the forest of palm trees, banana, cocoanut, breadfruit, beattle nut and hundreds of other kinds of trees, some bearing ripe fruit, some green fruit and some of the blossoms; most of the time we could not see the sky above us. We were fast entering the enemy’s trenches and got the order for silence. Here we passed from a column of fours into single file and entered a large forest by way of a deep ditch. As soon as the regiment was all in this ditch we were halted and stretched ourselves our for a rest and to enjoy the deep silence of the forest, only broken by the whistle of some wild bird or the croak of some lizard. We had no way of knowing where we were or where the enemy was; but we did know that our little colonel knew all about it, and we were all willing to trust in him. Soon we heard the cannon open up, then the armored car opened up, and such cannonading I never expected to hear. I had never dreamed that so much lead could be sent from one place in so short a time. First the rapid fire gun opened up, firing six hundred shots a minute, and sounded like a small trip hammer when run at full speed; about a minute later and the armor-piercing gun opened up, making a very loud report, then the Gatling guns, and all the time the one-pound rapid-fire gun was making itself heard. In the meantime Gen. Hale had opened up on the right and Gen. Wheaton on the left with their field pieces. I could see by the looks


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on the boys’ faces that no one blamed the niggers for digging ditches in the rear of their trenches by which they could get away. This lasted for some time, when one battalion of our regiment advanced and drove the niggers out. I don’t mean that the one battalion drove all the niggers out, for the troops on our right and left were doing their share. Several men were killed and wounded. When we got up to their trenches we found that they were on the opposite side of the Babgoga river, which is about 100 years from bank to bank. The steel bridge had been cut in two and one span was dropped. The trenches were of the strongest and were shrapnel proof. They were dug into the ground and the railroad track laid over the top, then the bank was so thick that none of our field pieces could reach the enemy, behind which they did their firing from small portholes. On our side of the river the trees had all been cut down to enable the enemy to see us coming for at least 200 yards. As soon as the battle was over the river had the appearance of a pleasure resort, for every soldier off duty was in swimming. We laid here all night while the engineer corps fixed the bridge. Next morning we got an early start, crossed the bridge and swung out in battle line on the other side and started again on the advance to Calumpit. For about two miles we toiled on, losing a man every now and then overcome with heat. As we neared the Rio Grande a few shots were fired at the scouts. They did not know that the main body was coming, as the trees and bamboo shacks of Calumpit covered our advance. We advanced right to the river bank before we were seen. Then they opened up from the other side, but we only laid down, as our colonel saw it was no use to fire back, as the enemy were strong intrenched on the opposite bank. One of our men was killed here, shot through the stomach. He m[w]as Minohan of company A. This river was much wider than the last and even more strongly entrenched. The bridge was so torn up that only one man at a time could cross. We did not have the armored car here to help us, but the enemy had a cannon and a rapid-fire gun. No one dared show himself. We only laid and waited for our general to figure some way to cross. The insurgents held us here all that afternoon and up until about 2 o’clock the next day, when the Kansas regiment proved its usefulness. Col. Funston went to Gen. Wheaton and asked permission to send his men across the river. At first it was refused him, but he insisted and it was granted him. He came down the line and asked for volunteers to swim the river and take a rope across. Two men offered their services and were soon on the bank with a rope. Our battalion was lined up to protect them if a nigger showed his head. Both boys dived in and started right towards one of the insurgent trenches. Every man was excited and stood there with cocked gun waiting to pour lead into the woods at the first suspicious sound or movement. As the men neared the opposite shore, we saw a hat coming up over the trenches, and the way we fired our guns was a caution. We were protecting those brave men, if fast or careful shooting could save them, we were going to do it. The men in the water never faltered but went straight across and crawled up and fastened the rope to the trenches themselves. Just then about twenty niggers jumped out of the trenches and ran for dear life. The


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bravery of our men overpowered them, we were going to do it. I think this act of bravery rivals Hobson’s. To swim the river right in the face of the enemy’s trenches takes more nerve than I have, and I think the act should be recognized by congress. After the first rope was across, the second and larger one was pulled across, then came a raft carrying Col. Funston and five or six men, then came another and another, until Col. Funston and about forty-five men were across. Then the small force got around on the enemy’s flank. The enemy no doubt thought a larger force was there and soon left the trenches. Then the rest of us cross the bridge single file on an ???? hanger about five inches wide. This bridge is said to be 900 feet long. In the meantime Gen. Luna had managed to rally ???? and was advancing on us. Our regiment ??? was soon across, then came to the Mon[tana?] and between us we soon stopped them and started them the other way. We went about 200 yards, then got down behind the railroad track to wait for the rest of the Montana boys to cross the bridge. Everybody was nearly overcome with heat. I was so weak that I could scarcely stand. We all laid down, but could get no relief, as the sun was shining on us, full force and dead niggers were lying on the ground all around us. While we were lying here with grass piled over our heads for shade we got a flank fire down the track, but the men were so nearly exhausted that few of them tried to find shelter. One officer standing over me was shot through the wrist. We soon started again, charging, advancing, sometimes lying down. We saw a trench ahead and made a run for the cover. Just before we got there the man next to me was shot through the stomach and with two short yells fell dead. After we left this trench we did not have any more firing. We advanced to Apalito and there stopped. We remained there for two days, during which time it rained all the time, and harder rain I have never seen. We ere then moved into Apalito, which on the Rio Grande. Here each squad was given a native shack to live in. Our shack faced on the river and we spend several days very pleasantly, when we were again ordered to advance to San Fernando, then the capital of the Philippine government and a stronghold. Again we got up at 3 o’clock and started for San Fernando, about seven miles distant. We went up the track for about two miles without meeting the enemy. On either side of the track are swamps and room for only about two companies to deploy in battle line. There we found pitfalls and trenches, the pitfalls on our side of the river, the trenches on the other side, and the bridge torn down between us. We took this place with but two men killed and several wounded. The engineers corps soon fixed the bridge, and we were across and on our way. By this time it was the heat of the and we were suffering for water, all the streams were salty. We had not gone far before we again came upon them and fought hard for an hour or two when we stook Santo Thomas, a small town, where we stopped for the night. In taking the town, Col. Funston was shot through the hand, a lieutenant was killed and in all our loss was fifteen killed and wounded. We stayed in Santo Thomas all next day and that night we were again ordered forward. Gen. Wheaton told us that surely this would be the last advance for Kansas (they said the same thing when we took Malolos), so next day we went into San Fernando.


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San Fernando is quite a large place and is a rich place as well, not far from the China sea. We have been here two days and have again been ordered forward. Lots of the boys are and have been too sick to travel and fight, but have done so to hold up the regiment. Yesterday Gen. MacArthur came down himself to give us the order. The officers made a little talk against going any further and as an excuse the general said that the Kansas was considered the backbone of the division and that every one thought as long as the Kansas was along everything was all right. Gen. McArthur says now that our work will be finished in seven days, then we are to be relieved. It seems that there is a town near here, off to the left, that they want us to take, then there is another town and then go down to San Fernando bay, thus making a water route from there to Manila. We don’t want to go any farther, we think we have done more than our share. We are glad that we have a good name, but we are perfectly willing to give some one else a chance. At the present time there are several regiments of r[e]gulars that have never done a thing. I think as it is we have been on the firing line longer than any regiment in the war. For over three months we have never been off the firing line, with the exception of one day when we were in the reserve—even that day we were called into the fight. During that time we have never slept with our clothes off and seldom dared take our shoes off. As far as I am concerned, I am as well as can be, but pretty well played out. The men are giving out fast, they have had a hard time through rain, mud, forests and swamps. We are in hopes of getting off the line soon, but it looks as though we were going to stay on the line as long as there is fighting. I neglected to say that while we were at Apalito the insurgents came in with a white flag and said they wanted to surrender, but Gen. Otis would not listen to anything but an unconditional surrender. Then the insurgents wanted a two weeks armistice, which was refused them. I don’t believe they wanted to do anything but gain time. Grant, send this to the girls, I have no means of writing more letters. Good-bye for the present, with love to all and kiss to Charlie and Minnie. I am, your loving brother, BOB. Gen. MacArthur mentioned in this previous article is Arthur MacArthur Jr., the father of Douglas MacArthur who led American forces in the Far East during World War II. The conquest of the Philippines was done by military units of volunteers, not draftees. They were not forced into fighting in the Philippines.

“What Harry Slack Says: A Texan Takes a Gloomy View of the Outlook in the Philippines,” DMN, July 20, 1899, page 7. Denison, Tex., July 18.—From a letter received form Harry C. Slack, formerly an employe[e] of the Katy freight office in this city, now in service in the Philippines in


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the first Montana volunteers, it would seem that the prospect for an early closing of the Filipino war is a very gloomy one. Mr. Slack in a letter to Tom Finn of this city, dated at Manila on June 6?, says of the comforts and discomforts of war: “You spoke about a small bottle. Tome it is 130 in the shade here, and I would give my interest in Texas for a large bottle just now. They make a wood alcohol here (the boys call it ‘timber whisky,’ they say it tastes better). It is made out of palm trees and is called by the natives, ‘beno.” It tastes like a mixture of chloride of lime, blue vitriol and coal oil. I took one drink of it and was in the hospital three days, but the natives drink it like branch water. “I though we had been up against every aggregation Aguinaldo has, but he rung in a new one on us the other day. He’s a dark horse, I think. His name is Gen. Muscardo, and he has about 6000 ‘niggers.’ I don’t know what kind of sprinters they are going to make yet, they are about a mile outside of our lines. I was looking at them through a glass this morning. They have ‘high drivers’ and I think they ought to make pretty good time. “Do you ever hear anything about the volunteers being mustered out? There are lots of regulars here, I guess, but there are none in sight around the firing lines. I think they want to kill us volunteers off so they won’t have to send us back. “I believe I would stay here if things would settle down so I could do something, but I believe this war is going to last for years. These ‘niggers’ are not going to surrender, and it’s going to be a war of extermination, and is going to coast a lot of good American blood. These natives have done more work building breastworks since this trouble started on this island than has been done in the last 100 years. “Give my regards to the gang. “HARRY L. SLACK”

“A Philippine Letter: What a Texas Private Has to Say of His Experiences in the East,” DMN, August 13, 1899, page 19. Notice the last subtitle in the title. The writer reveals in this letter his vicious murderous character. Essentially the Klan rides again in the Philippines. A PHILIPPINE LETTER WHAT A TEXAS PRIVATE HAS TO SAY OF HIS EXPERIENCES IN THE TEAST


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IT IS A LAND OF SURPRISES ALL THE OPEN COUNTRY DYKED, ROSEWOOD AND EBONY HOSUES ON MAHAOGANY PILING. DRESS OF THE NATIVES - - - WOMEN WORK Difference Between the Filipino and the Negro—The War a Long Way From Being Ended. Corpus Christi, Tex., Aug. 9.—The following interesting letter from the Philippines is from the pen of Floyd Frisby, esq., formerly a well known young attorney of Corpus Christi, who relinquished a promising legal practice and enlisted in the Third United States Infantry to fight Uncle Sam’s battles in the Orient: Baliuac, Philippines Islands, June 21, 1899—To Mr. Delmas Givens, Corpus Christi—Dear Sir and Friend: You will no doubt be surprised to hear from your friend and ex-student at such a long range, but the fact is I have of late become accustomed to long ranges, and can’t get out of the habit. I would have written you sooner, but what with the toil and turmoil of a guerilla war, a fellow doesn’t have time to eat, much less write, if the materials were available, which they are not. But at last, for a time, the war is in a state of status quo, as it were. The rainy season has set in and our regiment, the Thirty-third, is destined to garrison the above named city, captured by us about a month ago, and I, having a pretty nice job in truce period, namely, regimental interpreter, am at my leisure, and likewise in a position to communicate with my friends for the first time since I struck the island. I am going to try by means of my pen to give you some kind of idea what war in the Philippines is, and how it is conducted, and incidentally tell you a few personal experiences, but before I start on such a job, which has already assumed immense proportions, I shall go over to the commissary to get something to eat, so for the present, “au revoir.” * * * * * * You will not by counting the starts that I made that it took me quite a while to nerve myself for the task of entering upon a detailed account current of the transactions done by Frisby & Co. within the last three months. But to begin— First, know that this is a land of surprises, the land of the unexpected—every building, every vine and tree, the very earth itself, defies description. The whole island is besected [sp] and intersected with rivers and streams. Upon the banks of former grows the banbo [sp] in great quantities and height, towering some sixty to seventy feet in air and as straight as a drum major on dress parade. ON the latter grows a variety of scrub brush and stunted bamboo, which is by far the worst to try


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to get through. All the open country is dyked or ribbed with rice “poddyked” ranged in picturesque style, sometime forming a square, sometime a circle, then a semi-circle, and in some cases forming a veritable amphitheater, with a small lake for a stage. But it is useless to try to tell you about it, one has to see it to appreciate it. But this will give an idea of what fighting is in this country, when the enemy has the field and you have to force him out. The woods on the banks of each stream and river vary in width from yards to miles, and when the latter it is interspersed with huge mango trees, and many native trees the names of which I have not learned, and if I had it would leave you none the wiser, also date palms, banana palms and in fact, the wooded places where the bamboo is not too thick, is a veritable palm garden. So much for the trees. The buildings are mostly bamboo (the native), and are gotten up in the most ingenious manner imaginable; it is all platting, lacing and splicing; there isn’t a nail used throughout. The Spaniards and better class of natives, however, build their houses of rosewood and ebony, constructed cleverly, with a view both to beauty and coolness. Built high from the ground upon solid mahogany logs that would cost not less than $50 apiece in the states, galvanized tin roof, sliding windows and vari-colored ising glass with rosewood frames that completely surround the building. The interior of the principal rooms is ceiled with basketing of some king, which is all frescoed in the most exaggerated style imaginable, furnished with rosewood and mahogany furniture, inlaid with ivory and mother of pearl. The yards always have large trees, some over a hundred feet high, which form a regular canopy over the building so that the sun rarely shines in the house with its full force, and consequently the windows are generally “stocked,” leaving the house looking like a pagoda, or roof and with the wall minus. Enough for descriptions. The navies, with few exceptions, men and women, go barefoot, the men dressed in white linen, white trousers and undershirt and belt, and over this they wear a kind of lace suite which hangs to the knees and sets off to advantage the fine belt and figured undershirt beneath it. The women wear a low-necked waist with large loosely flowing sleeves; then they take two pieces of cloth of different colors and wrap one, one from the front and the other from the rear, and hitch them up at the waist, and this constitutes the costume of the Filipino. The kids are parahernaliad in smiles and sunshine. The men on rare occasions wear white canvas shoes, but the women never. The women do most of the work and the men drink wine and gamble, and when this becomes monotonous repair to Aguinaldo’s camp and try the patriot act for a while. The “Googoo” nigger or native, is a good fighter, especially the northern race, or Tagales, whose country this regiment is now holding down. I have seen old men stay in a tree and shoot for dear life till we passed under them, and then they would plug at our backs until some one discovered their nest and shot them out.


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This is a frequent occurrence, and these are called sharpshooters, but they are all bad marksmen under excitement, and they can’t stand up to a hand-to-hand scrap. But as long as you stand off and duel with him, your Tagal will stay with you, and the chances are, if at long range and armed with a Hause rifle, he’ll get you first. The newspaper reports you get about Aguinaldo’s back being broken and his losing hope are all poppycock, and you may depend on it that if the whole outfit of us that are garrisoning these interior town are not massacred before, when the rainy season is over we will have to start in and do it all over again. There is comparatively little difference in the number of casualties in the fights. The American loss is something like 300 killed and 800 wounded since hostilities opened, and I would be willing to wager that the Filipino loss in killed does not exceed 500 and their wounded 1000. Further, we have in our possession about one-fourth of the island, and the balance is theirs. They have succeeded in keeping 800 Spanish prisoners, which we haven’t caught sight of. They work us to a “queen’s taste.” When we get too close to use they send up the white flag and keep going their way. Of course we are ordered to cease—“They want to surrender.” Then our white flag is sent out to meet theirs. By this time they have gotten out of gun-shot range, and upon the approach of our flag the gentlemen, with the assistance of several conservers of the peace heretofore concealed around back of the “rice poddy” open fire on our flag bearers and they are compelled to spring from their horses [lie?] low, and we can’t fire without endangering the lives of our men, who are lying, with their horses, between us and the Googoos. The Googoos. Knowing this, send two or three farewell shots into our men and horses, who are seeking cover while we advance, and as many more on us, then give use the horse laugh and “vamoose” to catch up with the main body—see! Another dodge they worked on us when we took this town: The Twenty-second attacked it from the front against the trenches, and while the Googoos were busy repelling the attack we waded the river waist deep and got at their flank. It was a complete surprise. We opened up on their rear and they didn’t make much of a stand. We only had about ten men wounded. They were virtually surrounded, and this is the way they got out: Their only chance was to pass out before our lines, which were gradually forming a circle around the town, but in doing so they had to run the gauntlet of a raking fire from our men, who were now in a position to commend the field. Although it was long range, some 800 yards, yet they were bound to suffer a terrible loss. They marched out with the women and children from the town between us and them, forcing them to keep up a dead run to prevent our charging them. But this was unnecessary, for by the time we got on to the “hocus” they were well on their way, and we could only throw a few shells at them for revenge. Still they suffered.


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I will give you a war scene that I witnessed on the march to Malolos. We were at that time on the reserve and support alternately, i.e. in the latter case receiving most of the fire, because 70 percent of percent of the shots go high, and the support, being about 1000 yards behind, get the benefit of them and don’t have the chance to fire back. In the former, i.e., reserve, he has to the chance to observe the wreck and ruin wrought by fire and sword, and contemplate and wonder if war is what it is “cracked up to be.” Well, while on the reserve, some two miles back of the firing line, near Morillas (most of the houses on that march were burned either by the insurgents or our boys). I came up to a smoking ash pile, which erstwhile had been a “shack.” Lying among the embers of this fire could be distinguished the charred remains of a watch dog, which had perished at his post, tied with a chain, which was also visible. The shake was on a king of knoll, and down in front of it beside the road was sitting what I supposed to be the owner of the destroyed house, an old woman, mumbling and crooning over the remains of a boy about 19 years of age whose brains could be seen oozing out of a hole in his head at fifty yards. Two little children were cling to her dress and making the air bristle with their screams, while the old woman shook her shriveled fist at us and made prophesies that boded us no good. Sights like the above are quite common here, but they do not appeal to our sympathy very much after we get used to them. In fact the Googoo is such a treacherous rascal that the only regret we have is that they are not of more frequent occurrence. But there are some things that get next to a fellow—even an unbeliever like myself. When we took the town of Angot, a beautiful city up in the hills, or rather surrounded by hills, itself lying in the valley of the Rio Grande, the shells from the artillery set fire to the town and it was almost consumed in flames. One of the buildings fired was a large Catholic church which cost no less than $300,000. Its walls, towers, and domes, built of solid masonry, had stood no doubt for centuries. All the glasses were stained with representations of the saints, its wall frescoed with saintly figures, surplices, crosses, etc., and every angle and alcove contained its statue, carved mostly by Spanish masters, to say nothing of the valuable paintings handing upon the walls. Nothing was saved. The frowning walls stood grimly defying the flames, and upon the arch of the main entrance is the blackened and charred figure of Christ, still holding forth his arms and looking more appealing for marring, nay, almost supernatural, he appears to beg us to come unto him. If one were inclined toward superstition these sights would put the fear of God into him. But instead of this I have seen some fellows really steal Christ off the cross, i.e., steal small crucifixes. And several fellows were arrested for stealing the chimes out of the churches and selling them to Chinamen. These depredations, you understand, are severely punishable and prohibited, but there are all kinds of people in our army of 50,000, and they can’t always hold them down. On the other hand, the natives are a lot of lawless bandits, who respect neither flag nor red cross. And old devil that we turned loose because he had no gun and was


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so old at the battle of Caloocan, was seen to go up to one of our wounded who had not yet brought in and stoop down; then he got up and started towards another. By this time our attention was attracted and we saw he had a knife in his hand. He was immediately the recipient of a volley, and some of the boys went to see what he had done to the wounded man over whom he was seen to stoop. His throat was cut from ear to ear, besides the bullet wound in his side, from which he was no doubt unconscious when the old “paynim” cut his throat. We had a nice fight with them at Masim and St. Yldefonso on the 22d of May, before we quite for the season. They heard that we were to leave St. Miguel that day, and laid their plans to “do us. There were only two battalions, or some 800 men of us, the Third, and we needed at least two companies of these to guard the wagon train, thus leaving only 600 available to fight. We were to be the victims of a combined attack of about three regiments (reduced) of General Pio del Pilar’s brigade, called the “Bulicon boys.” One regiment was to lay in wait in ambush at Masim, across the river, another was to hide on the hillside and charge down on our left flank while we were engaged with the enemy in our front, and the third was to let us pass them at San Yidefonso and follow us up at a safe distance, and when we became tangled up ahead to make a rush on our rear and capture the train and do as much other damage as they could. This was nicely planned, and had it been carried out I would probably not be writing this letter, for the bridge at Masim was only a small bamboo bridge, and had they attacked us as intended, while in the act of crossing, in front and flank, and simultaneously stuck our rear with almost thrice our number, it would have been a miracle if any had escaped. But while we were marching through San Yidefonso, I, as flanker for the advance guard, and two signal corps men who had bulling down the telegraph wires, were rummaging some 800 or 100 years ahead of the regiment, and the Googoos, thinking they had a good thing, started out of the woods after us and told us to surrender, whereupon we proceeded to show them what an American could do in case of an emergency, namely, seeing at once that they were in large numbers and some 700 yards off, we gave them a foot race right down a nice clean road, and the Googoos discovered that if the Americano could fight he could also run for a good cause, and under circumstances that were conducive of an accelerated speed on his (the Americano’s) part. They would not fire on us because they did not wish to give the snap away, so it came right down to a foot race and we kept our distance ahead for about 600 yards, when we came in sight of the advance guard and fired our guns off. The Googoos, seeing that the game was up, commenced to let us have a volley, or rather several of them, but they had run so far that they were winded, and though about 200 of them opened fire on us at 250 yards they didn’t hit a man. When they commenced firing, I betook myself to an anthill beside the road and the signalcorps men got behind rice “poddys” and we opened up on them. The nearest company of Americans to us was some 200 yards in our rear, and could not fire for


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fear of hitting us, but the Googoos didn’t have the nerve to come on, and so we “saved our bacon.” The six companies deployed and came up to us, and then we made a general charge, killing about thirty Googoos and capturing many rifles. They managed to get away with their wounded. Our loss in this first fight was four wounded. This was contrary to all their plans and threw the whole business out of whack. The party that was to attack our flank, hearing the firing, attempted to the rescue, but arrived too late. We had licked the first gang and gone, so they had to countermarch, and by the time they got back we charged across the river, routed the Googoos, killed and wounded some seventy of them, taking twenty-three prisoners and about fifty rifles, and were cooking dinner. Discovering this, they marched unobserved down the right of the road and waited in ambush for us, with such stragglers of the other two regiments as they could get together. They caught us right, too, as we were marching down the road in columns of fours, thinking that two scrapes in a day would settle the Googoos. They opened fire from the brush and surrounding hillsides with such effect that by the time we formed and charged them and drove them out they had succeeded in killing five and wounding seventeen of our men. Our company (A) being in advance, was the most exposed, but, strange to say, we didn’t lose a man, and had only four wounded, among them our captain, McArthur, through the right leg. In this fight they stood their ground like men, and for a time they stood “point blank” (about fifty yards) and pour a withering fire into use, but as we were charging up hill, we had the advantage, as they invariably shot high, wounding more men in the support than in the firing line. This letter, as I prophesied, has become a book, so I will shut it for the present: and some day when I feel inspired, I will write you about our trip with the flying brigade, and our sixty days’ campaign in the north. For the present, good bye. Your friend. FLOYD L. FRISBY

“Fighting the Filipinos, Lieutenant Arthur P. Watts’ Interesting Letter,” DMN, January 28, 1900, page 7. Mr. A.F. Lempertz received the following very interesting letter from Lieut. Arthur P. Watts, son of Hon. A.P. Watts of this city, yesterday: Imus, P.I., Dec. 4, 1899.—Mr. A.F. Lempetz, Dallas, Tex: Dear Mr. Lempetz: Yours received in the trenches, and I take this, the first opportunity to answer same. We have been kept on the jump for the past fifteen days, and during that time I have


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not had time to take off a stich of clothing; consequently you can imagine how I feel. Just had a bath, shave and a general cleaning up. For the past two or three weeks we have been sallying out and mixing matters with the “niggers” for an hour or so. These engagements were mostly made to gain information as to their numbers and position. My first fight with them happened on Monday, Nov. 19 or 20. I had a platoon under my charge, and when the proper moment arrived, after lying in silence one hour, and under a heavy fire, I was ordered to charge across a rice field. The distance to be covered was about 300 yards, and you know that a rice pudding is a very hard proposition when it is full of water on any occasion, but more so when the Mauser bullet is clipping the rice blades all around your head and feet. We charged, however, and yelled like furies at the same time. We fired like Indians. At the other edge we ran plump into a insurgent barricade about three feet high, protecting a bridge across a small river, something like the Trinity when at low water. The barricade was deserted, the “insurrectos” having cross over to the other side at our advance. Just as we reached the barricade they commenced to yell like furies, and from the sound of their yelling I came to the conclusion that there must be at least a thousand in my immediate front, so I had the men take protection behind this barricade and lie low. The bullets whistled like a million hornets around us then, but we just lay there and watched for an opportunity, which came a few moments later. The remainder of our line having reached this river, halted also and began to pour volleys into the niggers immediately in their front. The “niggers,” seeing that there was no firing from the barricade where we were, began to take up positions directly in front of us. At the same time they would jeer at us in this manner: “Gangway Americanos!” “Americanos queire combata!” “Americano —!” I sent a message back to the commanding officer that they were directly in my front, so he dispatched a section of artillery (two guns) and one company down to assist me. This detachment, on account of the high ground, slipped up into position without being seen from the other side. Our men—that is, my men—commenced to cheer and jeer the niggers in this manner to locate them, knowing full well they would answer back with firing and yelling: “Guger mucha hike” (meaning run) “Filipino soldiers mucha carbadair (cowards). This yelling accomplished just what we expected it to do, and they simply went crazy. One of their officers jumped out into the road about 200 yards from us and yelled out something, but he will never yell again, for just as he started back one of our crack marksmen sent him to Gugu (heaven) and he fell in the road. Almost at the same instant the two big guns turned loose with shrapnel cut to zero, and we gave them volley after volley. This was too much for them, so they quieted down, but we did not dare to cross the bridge, so withdrew. We afterward found that there was something like a thousand of them, and that they had three smoothbore guns loaded with scrap iron, old chunks of brass, glass and lead trained on the bridge, and that they intended to jeer us into coming across but we were a little too sharp for them.


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The next day they opened fire on the town and we went for them again. This time they used a 3.2-inch Krupp gun. We made a dash to capture it, but they were too quick for us and got it away. We then drove them back over the same ground as the day before. Having received orders from division headquarters not to cross the river, but to withdraw each time we got there, to lead them into believing that their position was impregnable, in order to catch them when the troops start from Manila on the other side. In the two fights we lost ten men wounded and one killed. There loss was twenty-seven killed and fifty-three wounded. After the second day’s fight they stationed their sharpshooters in trees near the town, and whenever an officer made his appearance in the street on horseback or on foot they fired on us. Saturday, Nov. 25, at 3 o’clock a.m. they attacked the town in force, about 2,000 strong, but we beat them off easily, having only three men wounded, while their losses were, to the best information, forty killed and sixty wounded. We were in the trenches, which accounts for our losses being so small. The same morning about 10 o’clock they fired on some of our men on the way to Bacoor, three miles from Imus toward Manila. The Fourteenth infantry at Barcoor drove them out easily. Since then we have been expecting them nightly. All of our troops are on the north line chasing Aguinaldo and a few of his followers, while down here in the Cavite (Cavietteah) province there are something like 3,000 “niggers” and the best troops of the insurgent army. Gen. Otis informed our commanding officer that just as soon as the new regiments of volunteers begin to arrive, he would send them down to help us out. I have transferred to the Twenty-Third infantry and will leave for Jolo (Wholo), Sulu Islands just as soon as the trouble is over here. Thanking you for your kind words and offer, I remain, your friend. ARTHUR P. WATTS

“Texas Boys Under Fire,” DMN, February 25, 1900, page 21. The author observes that, “the people are small and I expect treacherous.” He also feels that he is emulating the heroic exploits of the Confederate soldier.

TEXAS BOYS UNDER FIRE. COL. HARES SOLDIERS IN A FINISH FIGHT WITH AGUINALDO’S TAGAL TROOPS.


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CAPTAIN E.G. SHIELD’S LETTER. Privates Baron and Whallen Slain. Brave Soldiers Complimented by the Writer. Hillsboro, Tex., Feb. 23.—The following letter has just been received by B.G. Ballard from Capt. Shields, and contains an interesting account of the actions of the Texas boys in the Philippines: Weyler’s Palace, Vigan, Luzon, P.I., Dec. 28—Dear Ben: This is my first idle moment since I left you at Hillsboro on Aug. 1. I am here for a few days’ rest after a campaign of sixty fays that all army officers hereabout agree has never been excelled in the Philippines. I was ordered here, and do not know yet the causes therefor, as Gen. Young the Military Governor of these seven provinces, has not made known his wishes. So, in the meantime, I will write you a letter. I have not seen Stanford and others of old M in the Third artillery, but have received a note from Stanford. I have been so busy marching all the time and fighting every few days, when we could catch the devils, that, aside for want of time, we had no pencil or paper. I wish you had come over here, and sincerely wish that more of my old boys were here. There would be fighting to satisfy their greatest need. How we used to clamor for it in the old company. Well, as a result, poor Baron is dead. He was mortally wounded at Taugaden Hill, with five others of my battalion, and Jimmy Whallen killed. Six hundred “Filipos”—the boys call them “niggers”—intrenched in an almost impenetrable position, were attacked by the Third cavalry and First battalion of the ThirtyFourth infantry, at about 2:30 p.m. Dec. 4. My battalion, Campanies [sp] A, D, C, Thirty-Third, and Company I of Major Sirmyer’s battalion, were three miles away en route to Bangued. I heard the volleys, and Col. Hare said: “When you hear firing, go to it.” So off I went by the flank, and at 3:30 reached the field and reported to Gen. Young. Col. Hare soon followed and got permission to send in one company. He turned and said: “Send your best, Shields,” and so I sent my own, C. under Lieut. Lowe, I, of course, remaining with my other companies. Thus you will understand, commanding but four, I was not in a position to put in more. I remained with the majority, feeling that the whole would soon be wanted. I asked Gen. Young to let me go up with all of the Thirty-Third, but he said wait, and I waited. At 5 o’clock Col. Hare said if the Thirty-Third would come up we could storm the hill at dusk. So Gen. Young said, “Go ahead, Shields,” and up we went. After consultation with Lieut. Col. Howze of the Thirty-Fourth as to the situation and requirements, it was decided that I should lead the way with C, supported by A and D. So onto the field of fire we went, and though the enemy did not find our range (shooting high), it was a hot place until we had crossed the open and were protected by the woods on the slope of the mountain. Now was before us the ascent


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of the steep incline at least 600 feet high, by a trail about a foot wide, with a precipice on the right and high rocks on the left, with Mausers in front covering the trail and at the summit six lines of trenches so skillfully arranged as to afford fire for the enemy on all sides without our being able to return it effectively with more than fifty men. Forward, was whispered along the line of three companies, 280 men, in column of files. The point or advance sixteen men, among whom were Baron and Scott, and then the company with all the rest. The officers, at least two, were with the point. We crawled on our hands and knees for an hour. The “niggers” must have thought we had gone to sleep, as they began to chatter like magpies right over our heads, the line having reached the very foot of the final line of intrenchments not twenty feet from their sentry on the top. At last rang out “Hal,a,” which means halt. He must have seen something. No answer. Then came three Americanos, which was rather a question, he seeming in doubt. This brought several officers and a detachment of men up, and supreme moment had come. I yelled, “Give ‘em well,” I think I said “hell,” and as quick as lightening. If you had been there you would have thought they had obeyed my command literally. The Krags ran out with such a yell behind it as would have done the old rebels of 1861-1865 proud, and the crash of the Mauser and the roar of the Remington made night hideous. The flames of fire from the volleys seemed to meet and over the trenches they went with bayonets fixed and clubbing their guns. I saw Lane knock a fellow in the head while he tried to tumble rock over the bank. On they rushed and by volleys, such as only are given by the Thirty-Third over here. We put them out and occupied every trench in one hour and fifty minutes, and received the congratulations of the Colonel, General and all. Barron was shot through the left lung and died on the 9th, living five days. Whallen was killed outright. George Maine was shot through the leg about the knee. Horner was shot in the arm. The others I have forgotten. We lost all told three killed, counting deaths of wounded, and eleven wounded. The enemy’s loss, according to those present after captured, were thrity-five killed, eighty wounded, ten officers among them. Their Lieutenant Colonel, Balos Villamore, was mortally wounded and is dead. So you see it gets hot at times. But the outlook is now that we have pacified seven provinces with the Third cavalry. Thirty-Third and Thirty-Fourth infantries, under Gen. Young, and they are going to let us enjoy the place a while. This is fine country: all bosh about disease and bad climate. So far the climate is far ahead of ours in Texas. Everything is fertile and such as tobacco, cotton, rice, fruits as they grow are wonderful. The people are small and I expect treacherous. All they need is a little wholesome advice to make good citizens. They fully realize they can not fight Americans and are ready to give up, a least in the north. There are many openings for young men with ambition and energy. In this town of 30,000, a port of entry, too, a dentist and a doctor could make $5,000 a year. Gent’s furnish goods would pay immensely. They will all adopt American styles soon. There will also be a lot of mining, and sawmills for the mahogany forests. I can confidently say that I am most favorably impressed with the country. We sleep under a blanket at night and


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it not hot in the day. My men march from twelve to twenty-eight miles, wading rivers, etc., without much fatigue. Dec. 29, 1899—Well, Gen. Young has just sent for me to say I have been appointed Captain of the Port of Vigan, and Supervisor of Collection of Customs and Internal Revenue for the province of Ilocees Sur. So you see our services are rewarded. You never saw braver fellows than Walter Scott, Lieut. Will Lowe of Galveston and Henry Couch of Waxahachie. Tome Adams and Pitts were not with me at Tangoden, but they did fine work at Vigan battle, especially Adams. I got Adams into my company at Manila and made him Quartermaster Sergeant. Frank Shaw is all right. He was sick at Tangandan and was not at Vigan. We are expecting Col. Hare tomorrow, so this will be our headquarters for a time. Address me here. Vigan, Luzon, P.I., Thirty-Third Infantry. My regards to all, especially Cant. Fields, Judge Abbott and your good father. Sincerely yours, E.G. SHIELDS.

“From Across the Seas: Rudolph Gunner Jr. Writes an Interesting Letter form the Philippines,” DMN, April 11, 1900, page 10. Gunner compares shooting Filipinos to squirrel hunting. W.F. Somers of this city has received the following letter from Rudolph Gunner Jr. of Dallas, who is a member of the American army in the Philippines: Cabegao, Luzon, P.I., Feb. 22—My Dear Friend Somers: I have no doubt you will be surprised to hear from me, but having some spare time after several months of fighting and marching, I thought I would let the “boys” know that I am still alive. You have heard of people going out to see the world? Well, I have surely seen my share of it. The Thirty-Third, as you must have heard from the papers, has had the hot end of it every since we landed. We first landed at Manila and stayed near Manila for about a week and were shipped to the northern part of Luzon. We landed at San Fabian under fire, after four American warships bombarded the place. That was one of the prettiest sights a man could imagine, to see four gunboats shelling a town. We laid off about a mile from shore and watched it. It is a sight which will always stay very vividly impressed on my memory. The flying of explosive shells through the air, and watch them burst over the town and trenches and hear the noise of them, and the small boats turn loose their rapid-fire guns was worth the trip alone. After the bombardment Gen. Wheaton ordered us to embark. We embarked in a hurry, as everybody was looking for “gore,” and we got


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it too. The negroes began firing on us before we landed, but thanks to their bad marksmanship, only hit one man. We cleaned them out in short order and took the town, liberating twenty-seven Spanish prisoners, who dropped on their knees and thanked us for their deliverance. Some of them had been in captivity over a year. We stayed at San Fabian over night, sleeping out in a drenching tropical rain, and marched early next morning toward Santo Tomas; found insurgent barracks there, but the “Goo Goos” must have gotten wind of our coming, for the place was deserted. Major Logan ordered us to burn the barracks, and we did so. They made an elegant bonfire. We returned that night to San Fabian, pretty well worn out, hungry and footsore. A few days after that we received orders to get two days’ rations and 140 rounds of ammunition and be ready by 6 o’clock next morning to march. We had not gone more than two miles from town towards San Jacinto, when we could hear the “pop-pop” of the Mauser and the long “wheez” of the Remington. My company was ordered to deploy as skirmishers to the left. Well, we did the best we could, but as the road that we had passed over was kneed deep in mud you can form an idea of what the rice fields were like. As the rice needs plenty of water, we were often more than waist deep in mud. In fact, one of our boys had to be pulled out of the mud. The first thing I did was to throw away my blanket roll and haversack, stuffing the extra ammunition in my shirt, for I figured if we took the town we would find places to eat and sleep. You have no idea how fast a person thinks when he hears whizz-whizz, pop, whizz, all around him. The worst of it was, you could only see an occasional head sticking out here and there, but they soon disappeared after “Johnny Krag” spoke to them. Most of the damage inflicted upon us was from sharpshooters hidden in cocoanut trees on the road. But we soon found that out and poured volley after volley into them, and you should have seen the niggers drop out of there. It reminded me of squirrel hunting. We fought them for four hours. They put up one of the most stubborn fights that was ever fought on the island. About noon we got into town and found that we eight killed and fourteen wounded, among the killed being the famous Major John A. Logan (Major of my battalion), son of the late Gen. John A. Logan, and one of the most popular officers in the regiment. He was shot through the forehead while stooping over one of the men of my company who was shot through the breast. Two men rushed to his assistance, one a Sergeant Major (one of the best friends I had) and the other a hospital steward, and both were shot down. By the way, you very likely know the hospital steward. His name was Mercier, and he ran a detective agency in Dallas several years ago. We stayed in San Jacinto that day, waiting for our rations to come up, but they did not come up for two days, so you can imagine how the road was, the distance being only five miles.


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I went over that road with another man with dispatches and the stench from the dead Filipinos was something awful and the sight sickening, as some of the bodies were partly devoured by buzzards and large lizards, some of the latter being from three to five feet in length, and I was thankful when I got through there. After that we marched north along the coast, taking town after town, finding very little resistance, as two troops of the famous Third cavalry had gone ahead several days before and cleaned out the towns. We marched till we came to Candon, where we made a long stop for rest and recuperation. We surely needed it, as our half of the men were worn out by continuous marching. I could go on all day and describe to you our “pleasure trip.” Let me hear from you soon and give my regards to all inquiring friends. In my next letter I will describe to you my meeting with Mrs. Aguinaldo and her party, including Aggie’s Secretary of War, who gave me several of his cards. I inclose one of them; look at both sides. With best regards to yourself and family, I remain, yours as ever, R. GUNNER JR., Sergeant Company L, Thirty-Third Infantry. Address: Manila, P.I. P.S.—If you run across any magazines kindly send them or any other kind of reading matter.

“Calls it a Garden of Eden,” DMN, August 25, 1900, page 6. Compares shooting a Filipino to hog killing at home. Hillsboro, Tex., Aug. 24.—The following letter from a Hill Country boy in the Philippines contains some interesting points about the islands and conditions existing there: Lipa, Luzon, P.I. July 26.—Mr. Bob Bookout: Dear Sir—As it rains and rains all the time I thought I would write you a few lines. I am well and having lots of fun, interspersed with a little hard work, but all in all we are having a fine time. We are stationed at Lipa in the province of Batangas, 2,000 feet above sea level, and in the healthiest town on the island. I hope we will stay here until we are sent home, but there is strong talk of us going to China. If we do I am going to get me a pig tail. If they do send the Thirty-Eighth over there the Chinese had better hunt their holes before we arrive, for we have the record of doing business wherever we go. I have been in every town on the south end of the island and Lipa is the finest town south of Manila. It has a population of 65,000 “niggers” now. It was a Spanish town before the insurrection was started, the Filipinos had taken the town and had 300


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Spanish prisoners here. When we captured the place we took the Spanish to Manila and the Government took them home to Spain. They were a happy set when they were turned loose, for they had been nearly starved while in prison. Well, Bob, if I had room I could tell you lots of stories and hair breath escapes, but time will not permit. I tell you when you get where the Mauser and Remington bullets sign like a swarm of bees one only wonders that if any ever get out alive, but the “niggers” are such poor marksmen that they seldom kill one of our men. I never have seen one shot on the firing line. The men back on the reserve are the most likely to be shot. We have lost just one man out of our company and he was a little messmate of mine that enlisted in Indiana. He took spinal meningitis and went deaf, blind and crazy and finally died. It was lonesome for me for a while, for I loved the boy, and you don’t know how I missed him, but one gets used to all such things here. To shoot a “nigger” or see a pile of them is more than hog killing at home. The majority of them have come in and taken the oath of allegiance and are now citizens. They were all or nearly all slaves before we came here and they are learning fast that they are no longer slaves and can do for themselves. Just as soon as the masters see that the United States only wants to do them good all will be over and this will be one of the finest countries on the face of the earth. You may talk of the Garden of Eden, but I don’t believe it excels this. Every kind of fruit that grows in this old world grows here, I believe, for I have seen most everything, even to the bread fruit of the Holy Land, which grows in abundance. Every kind of vegetable that you ever heard of can be seen here. I think we will be on the island nine or ten months longer, at least, and then we will sail for “home, sweet home.” I whish we were across the old pond, for it’s a long way for one to travel and see nothing but the lonesome wavers of the deep blue sea. I always feel like the “nigger” when he said if the train wrecks thar yer is, but if the ship goes down where is yer. I have not heard from home for over three months. Our mail gets scattered and sometimes is a long time coming. I will send you a Manila paper. Regards to all. I.G. CLARCK, Co. H., 38th U.S.V.


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