THE SANTIAGO CAMPAIGN (Concluded)
IV. The wrecking of the army by disease after the decisive battle of
July 1-2.
The army under command of General
Shafter left Tampa on the fourteenth day of June,
and arrived off the Cuban coast near Santiago on the
20th of the same month. Disembarkation began
at Daiquiri on the 22d, and ended at Siboney on the
24th. On the morning of June 25 the whole army
was ashore, and was then in a state of almost perfect
health and efficiency. One week later the soldiers
at the front began to sicken with malarial and other
fevers, and two weeks later, according to General
Shafter’s report, “sickness was increasing
very rapidly, and the weakness of the troops was becoming
so apparent that I was anxious to bring the siege
to an end.” On July 21, less than four weeks
after the army landed, Colonel Roosevelt told me that
not more than one quarter of his men were fit for
duty, and that when they moved five miles up into
the hills, a few days before, fifty per cent. of the
entire command fell out of the ranks from exhaustion.
On July 22 a prominent surgeon attached to the field-hospital
of the First Division stated to me that at least five
thousand men in the Fifth Army-Corps were then ill
with fever, and that there were more than one thousand
sick in General Kent’s division alone.
On August 3 eight general officers in Shafter’s
command signed a round-robin in which they declared
that the army had been so disabled by malarial fevers
that it had lost its efficiency; that it was too weak
to move back into the hills; that the epidemic of yellow
fever which was sure to occur would probably destroy
it, and that if it were not moved North at once it
“must perish.” At that time, according
to General Shafter’s telegram of August 8 to
the War Department, “seventy-five per cent.
of the command had been ill with a very weakening
malarial fever, which leaves every man too much broken
down to be of any use.” In the short space
of forty days, therefore, an army of sixteen thousand
men had lost three fourths of its efficiency, and had
been reduced to a condition so low that, in the opinion
of eight general officers, it must inevitably “perish”
unless immediately sent back to the United States.
Early in August, after a stay in Cuba of only six
weeks, the Fifth Army-Corps began to move northward,
and before September 1 the whole command was in camp
at Montauk Point, Long Island. Of the eighteen
thousand men who composed it, five thousand were very
ill, or soon became very ill, and were sent to the
general hospital; while five thousand more, who were
less seriously sick, were treated in their tents.
Eight thousand men out of eighteen thousand were nominally
well, but had been so enfeebled by the hardships and
privations of the campaign that they were no longer
fit for active Cuban service, and, in the opinion
of General Miles, hardly one of them was in sound
health. I think it is not an exaggeration to describe
this state of affairs as “the wrecking of the
army by disease.” It is my purpose in the
present chapter to inquire whether such wrecking of
the army was inevitable, and if not, why it was allowed
to happen.
A review of the history of campaigns
in tropical countries seems to show that Northern
armies in such regions have always suffered more from
disease than from battle; but it does not by any means
show that the virtual destruction of a Northern army
by disease in a tropical country is inevitable now.
When the British army under the Earl of Albemarle
landed on the Cuban coast and attacked Havana in 1762,
it lost nearly one half its efficiency, as a result
of sickness, in about four weeks; but at that time
the fact that nine tenths of all tropical diseases
are caused by microscopic germs, and are therefore
preventable, was not known. The progress made
in sanitary science in the present century renders
unnecessary and inexcusable in 1898 a rate of sickness
and mortality that was perhaps inevitable in 1762.
Northern soldiers, if properly equipped and cared
for, can live and maintain their health now under
conditions which would have been absolutely and inevitably
fatal to them a century ago.
In April last there was an interesting
and instructive discussion of this subject, or of
a subject very closely connected with this, at a meeting
held in the rooms of the Royal Geographical Society,
London, and attended by many of the best-known authorities
on tropical pathology in Great Britain. Most
of the gentlemen who took part in the debate were of
opinion that there is no reason whatever why the white
man should not be able to adapt himself to the new
conditions of life in the tropics, and protect himself
against the diseases that prevail in those regions.
The popular belief that the white man cannot successfully
colonize the tropics is disproved by the fact that
he has done so. It is undoubtedly true that many
Northerners who go to equatorial regions contract disease
there and die; but in the majority of such cases the
man is the victim of his obstinate unwillingness to
change his habits in respect to eating, drinking,
and clothing, and to conform his life to the new conditions.
The chief diseases, both acute and
chronic, of tropical countries those which
formerly caused such ravages among the white settlers,
and gave rise to the prevalent theory that Europeans
can live only in the temperate zone are
all microbic in origin, and consequently in great
measure preventable. We cannot expect, of course,
to see them absolutely wiped out of existence; but
their sting may be extracted by means of an improved
public and private hygiene and other prophylactic
measures. A comparison of the healthfulness of
the West India Islands under enlightened British rule
with that of the two under Spanish misrule shows what
can be done by sanitation to convert a pest-hole into
a paradise. Indeed, as Dr. L. Sambon, in opening
the discussion, well said, sanitation within the last
few decades has wrought wonderful changes in all tropical
countries as regards health conditions, and the changes
in some places have been so great that regions once
considered most deadly are now even recommended as
health resorts.
Dr. Patrick Manson, than whom there
is no greater authority on the pathology of equatorial
regions, began his remarks with the confession that
in former years, under the influence of early training,
he shared in the pessimistic opinions then current
about tropical colonization by the white races.
In recent years, however, his views on this subject
had undergone a complete revolution a revolution
that began with the establishment of the germ theory
of disease. He now firmly believed in the possibility
of tropical colonization by the white races. Heat
and moisture, he contended, are not, in themselves,
the direct cause of any important tropical disease.
The direct causes of ninety-nine per cent, of these
diseases are germs, and to kill the germs is simply
a matter of knowledge and the application of that
knowledge that is to say, sanitary science
and sanitation.
The fact that ninety-nine per cent.
or more of the diseases that prevail in the tropics
are caused by germs was known, of course, to the surgeon-general
of our army, and ought to have been known to General
Shafter and the Secretary of War. It was, therefore,
their duty, collectively and individually, to protect
our soldiers in Cuba, not only by informing them of
the best means of escaping the dangers threatened
by these micro-organisms, but also by furnishing them
with every safeguard that science and experience could
suggest in the shape of proper food, dress, equipment,
and medical supplies. The rules and precautions
which it is necessary to observe in order to escape
the attacks of micro-organisms and maintain health
in the tropics were well known at the time when the
invasion of Cuba was planned, and had been published,
long before the army left Tampa, in hundreds of periodicals
throughout the country. Cuban physicians and surgeons,
Americans who had campaigned with Gomez and Garcia,
and travelers who, like Hornaday, had spent many years
in tropical forests and jungles, all agreed that if
our soldiers were to keep well in Cuba they should
drink boiled water, they should avoid sleeping on
the ground, they should have adequate protection from
rain and dew at night, and they should be able to change
their clothing, or at least their underwear, when wet.
By observing these very simple precautions Dr. Hornaday
maintained his health throughout five years of almost
constant travel and exploration in the woods and jungles
of Cuba, South America, India, the Malay Archipelago,
and Bornéo. If our soldiers went to Cuba, or marched
from Siboney to Santiago, without the equipment required
for the observance of these precautions, it was not
the result of necessary ignorance on the part of their
superiors. As the Philadelphia “Medical
Journal” said, ten days before the army sailed:
“The climate and sanitary or rather
unsanitary conditions of Cuba have been
much discussed, and it is well known what our troops
will have to contend against in that island.”
The “Army and Navy Journal,” about the
same time, pointed out the grave danger to be apprehended
from contaminated drinking-water, and said: “The
government should provide itself with heating and distilling
apparatus on an adequate scale. Sterilized water
is cheaper than hospitals and an army of nurses, to
say nothing of the crippling of the service that sickness
brings.” In an article entitled “Special
Sanitary Instructions for the Guidance of Troops Serving
in Tropical Countries,” published in the “Journal
of the American Medical Association” for May,
Dr. R. S. Woodson described fully the adverse sanitary
conditions peculiar to Cuba, and called especial attention
to the danger of drinking impure water and sleeping
on the ground. Finally, the highest medical officers
of our army, including the surgeon-general, the chief
surgeon of the Fifth Army-Corps, and Dr. John Guiteras,
published instructions and suggestions for the maintenance
of the health of our soldiers in the field, in which
attention was again called to the danger of drinking
unboiled water and sleeping in wet clothing on the
ground.
In spite of all these orders, instructions,
and suggestions, and in defiance of the advice and
warnings of all competent authorities, General Shafter’s
army sailed from Tampa without its reserve medical
supplies and ambulance corps, and, having landed on
the Cuban coast, marched into the interior without
wall-tents, without hammocks, without a change of
clothing, and without a single utensil larger than
a coffee-cup in which to boil water.
The question naturally arises, Why?
If everybody, without exception, who knows the climate
of Cuba warns you that your soldiers must not sleep
on the ground, in wet clothing, why not provide them
with hammocks, rain-sheets, and extra underwear?
If your own surgeon-general and the chief surgeon
of your own corps advise you officially that the drinking
of unboiled water will almost certainly cause disease,
why not supply your men with camp-kettles? I
can think of only three possible answers to these
questions. Either (1) the War Department did not
furnish General Shafter with these articles, or with
adequate transportation for them; or (2) General Shafter
did not believe in microbes and the germ theory of
disease, and regarded the suggestions of medical and
other experts as foolish and nonsensical; or (3) the
commanding general expected to capture Santiago before
his troops should be put hors de combat by
disease, and did not care particularly what happened
to them afterward. If there be any other explanation
of the officially admitted facts, it does not at this
moment occur to me.
Some of the defenders of the War Department
and of General Shafter seek to convey the idea, by
implication at least, that the wrecking of our army
was inevitable that it was a sort of divine
visitation, which could not have been averted, and
for which no one, except the Creator of microbes and
the Cuban climate, was responsible. But this theory
accords neither with the facts nor with General Shafter’s
explanation of them. In his telegram of August
8 to President McKinley, he does not say, “What
put my command in its present condition was a visitation
of God”; he says: “What put my command
in its present condition was the twenty days of the
campaign when they had nothing but meat [fat bacon],
bread, and coffee, without change of clothes, and
without any shelter whatever.” From this
admission of the commanding general it is clear that
the wrecking of the army was not due primarily to uncontrollable
climatic conditions, but rather to lack of foresight,
mismanagement, and inefficiency. This conclusion
is supported and greatly strengthened by the record
of another body of men, in a different branch of the
service, which spent more time in Cuba than the Fifth
Army-Corps spent there, which was subjected to nearly
all the local and climatic influences that are said
to have wrecked the latter, but which, nevertheless,
escaped disease and came back to the United States
in perfect health. I refer to the battalion of
marines under command of Colonel Huntington. This
small naval contingent landed on the western shore
of Guantanamo Bay on June 10 two weeks
before the Fifth Army-Corps finished disembarkation
at Daiquiri and Siboney. It was almost immediately
attacked by a superior force of Spanish regulars,
and was so harassed, night and day, by the fire of
the latter that some of its officers slept only two
hours out of one hundred and fifteen. As soon
as it had obtained a foothold it went into camp on
a slight elevation in the midst of an almost impenetrable
jungle, surrounded itself with defensive trenches,
and there lived, for a period of ten weeks, exposed
to the same sun, rain, and malaria that played havoc
with the troops of General Shafter. On the sixth
day of August, after eight weeks on Cuban soil and
in a tropical climate, its condition, as reported
by Admiral Sampson, was as follows: “The
marine battalion is in excellent health. Sick-list
two and one half per cent. The fleet surgeon
reports that they are in better condition for service
in this climate than they were when they arrived South
in June. I do not think it necessary to send
them North." Almost exactly at the same time when
this report was made, General Shafter was telegraphing
the War Department that seventy-five per cent. of
his command had been disabled by fever, and eight
general officers of the Fifth Army-Corps were signing
a round-robin in which they declared that if the army
were not immediately moved North it “must perish.”
Late in August it was decided that
the marines should return to the United States, notwithstanding
their satisfactory state of health, and on the 26th
of that month they reached Portsmouth, New Hampshire,
with only two men sick. They had been gone a
little more than eleven weeks, ten of which they had
spent in Cuba, and in that time had not lost a single
man from disease, and had never had a higher sick-rate
than two and one half per cent.
In view of this record, as compared
with that of any regiment in General Shafter’s
command, we are forced to inquire: What is the
reason for the difference? Why should a battalion
of marines be able to live ten weeks in Cuba, without
the loss of a single man from disease, and with a
sick-rate of only two and one half per cent., while
so hardy and tough a body of men as the Rough Riders,
under substantially the same climatic conditions,
had become so reduced in four weeks that seventy-five
per cent. of them were unfit for duty, and fifty per
cent. of them fell out of the ranks from exhaustion
in a march of five miles?
The only answer I can find to these
questions is that the marines had suitable equipment
and intelligent care, while the soldiers of General
Shafter’s command had neither. When the
marines landed in Guantanamo Bay, every tent and building
that the Spaniards had occupied was immediately destroyed
by fire, to remove any possible danger of infection
with yellow fever. When General Shafter landed
at Siboney, he not only disregarded the recommendation
of his chief surgeon to burn the buildings there,
but allowed them to be occupied as offices and hospitals,
without even so much as attempting to clean or disinfect
them. Yellow fever made its appearance in less
than two weeks. The marines at Guantanamo were
supplied promptly with light canvas uniforms suitable
for a tropical climate, while the soldiers of General
Shafter’s army sweltered through the campaign
in the heavy clothing that they had worn in Idaho
or Montana, and then, just before they started North,
were furnished with thin suits to keep them cool at
Montauk Point in the fall. The marines drank
only water that had been boiled or sterilized, while
the men of General Shafter’s command drank out
of brooks into which the heavy afternoon showers were
constantly washing fecal and other decaying organic
matter from the banks. The marines were well
protected from rain and dew, while the regulars of
the Fifth Army-Corps were drenched to the skin almost
every day, and slept at night on the water-soaked
ground. The marines received the full navy ration,
while the soldiers had only hardtack and fat bacon,
and not always enough of that. Finally, the marines
had surgeons enough to take proper care of the sick,
and medicines enough to give them, while General Shafter,
after leaving his reserve medical supplies and ambulance
corps at Tampa, telegraphs the adjutant-general on
August 3 that “there has never been sufficient
medical attendance or medicines for the daily wants
of the command.” In short, the marines
observed the laws of health, and lived in Cuba according
to the dictates of modern sanitary science, while the
soldiers, through no fault of their own, were forced
to violate almost every known law of health, and to
live as if there were no such thing as sanitary science
in existence.
Governor Tanner, General Grosvenor,
and Secretary Alger may declare that the wrecking
of the army by disease was inevitable, that Northern
soldiers cannot maintain their health in the tropics,
and that “when troops come home sick and worn,
it is a part of war”; but, in view of the record
made at Guantanamo Bay, we may say to them, seriously
and respectfully, rather than flippantly: “Tell
that to the marines!”
The record of the marine battalion,
taken in connection with General Shafter’s admission
that his command was disabled by “twenty days
of bread, meat, and coffee, without change of clothes,
and without any shelter whatever,” seems to
show conclusively that the epidemic of disease which
wrecked the army was the direct result of improper
and insufficient food, inadequate equipment, and utter
neglect of all the rules prescribed by sanitary science
for the maintenance of health in tropical regions.
The questions then recur, Why did not the army have
such food, clothes, and equipment as would have made
obedience to the laws of health possible? Why
should they have been directed by their chief surgeon
to boil all drinking-water, to avoid sleeping on the
ground, and to change their clothing when wet, if it
was not the intention to give them camp-kettles in
which to boil the water, hammocks in which to sleep,
and clothing enough for a change? The American
people, certainly, are both able and willing to pay
for the proper support and equipment of their army.
If it had cost five million dollars, or ten million
dollars, to supply every company in General Shafter’s
command with hammocks, waterproof rain-sheets, extra
clothing, and camp-kettles, the money would have been
appropriated and paid without a grumble or a murmur.
We are not a stingy people, nor even an economical
people, when the question is one of caring for the
men that we send into the field to fight for us.
If, then, the financial resources of the War Department
were unlimited, and if it had supreme power, why could
it not properly equip and feed a comparatively small
invading force of only sixteen or eighteen thousand
men? Were the difficulties insuperable?
Certainly not! It is safe, I think, to say that
there were a thousand business firms in the United
States which, for a suitable consideration, would
have undertaken to keep General Shafter’s army
supplied, at every step of its progress from Siboney
to Santiago, with hammocks, waterproof tents, extra
clothing, camp-kettles, and full rations of food.
The trouble was not lack of money or lack of facilities
at home; it was lack of foresight, of system, and of
administrative ability in the field.
Lieutenant Parker of the Thirteenth
Infantry has pointed out the fact that the army was
not properly equipped and fed “even after the
surrender [of Santiago] had placed unlimited wharfage
at our disposal within two and a half miles of the
camps over excellent roads." A week or ten days
after the surrender, officers were coming into Santiago
on horseback and carrying out to the camps over the
pommels of their saddles heavy hospital tents for
which they could get no other transportation and of
which their men were in urgent need. As late as
August 13 nearly a month after the surrender the
soldiers of the Ninth Massachusetts were still sleeping
on the ground in dog-kennel tents, toasting their
bacon on the ends of sticks, and making coffee in old
tomato-cans, although at that very time there were
hundreds of large wall-tents piled up in front of
the army storehouse on the Santiago water-front and
hundreds of tons of supplies, of all sorts, in the
storehouses and on the piers.
The state of affairs in the hospitals
was not much better than it had been a month before.
In a signed letter dated “Santiago, August 12,”
Dr. James S. Kennedy, first assistant surgeon of the
Second Division hospital, declared that there was
“an utter lack of suitable medicines with which
to combat disease. There has been so much diarrhea,
dysentery, and fever, and no medicine at all to combat
them, that men have actually died for want of it.
Four days after my reporting here there was not a
single medicine in the entire hospital for the first
two diseases, and nothing but quinine for the fever.
Yesterday, August 11, a certain regiment left its
encampment to go on board ship for the North, and
ten hours afterward a private who had been left behind
started back to his former encampment to sleep, no
private soldiers being allowed in Santiago after dark.
On reaching his camp he found ten men abandoned no
medicines, no food, no nurses or physicians simply
abandoned to starvation or suicide.”
If these statements are not true,
Dr. Kennedy should be brought to trial by court martial
for conduct prejudicial to good order and discipline,
if not conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman,
in publicly making injurious charges that have no
foundation in fact. If they are true, they furnish
another proof that the lack of medical supplies and
medical attention in the army was due to official
negligence and inefficiency. In June and July
it might have been urged with some show of plausibility
that a sudden and unexpected emergency, in the shape
of a wide-spread epidemic of fever, had taken the
army by surprise and found it unprepared; but with
the coast of the United States only four or five days
distant, with uninterrupted telegraphic communication,
and with good landing facilities in a safe and sheltered
harbor, there was no excuse for a lack of medicines
and hospital supplies on August 12 seven
weeks after the army landed and four weeks after it
entered the city of Santiago.
Defenders of General Shafter and the
War Department try to excuse the wrecking of the army
by saying that “the invasion of Cuba was not
a pleasure excursion,” that “war is not
strictly a hygienic business,” that “the
outcry about sickness and neglect is largely sensational
and for the manufacture of political effect,”
and that the general criticism of the management of
the campaign is “a concerted effort to hide the
glories of our magnificent triumph under alleged faults
and shortcomings in its conduct”; but these
excuses and counter-charges do not break the force
of the essential and officially admitted fact that
our army landed on the Cuban coast on June 24 in a
high state of health and efficiency, and in less than
six weeks had not only lost seventy-five per cent.
of its effective strength, but had been reduced by
disease to a condition so low that, in the opinion
of eight of its general officers, it “must perish”
unless immediately sent back to the United States.
Secretary Alger declares that management which produces
these results “is war”; but I should rather
describe it as incapacity for war. If we do not
learn a lesson from the Santiago campaign if
we continue to equip, feed, and manage our armies
in the field as we equipped, fed, and managed the
Fifth Army-Corps in Cuba our newly acquired
tropical possessions will cost us more in pensions
than they will ever produce in revenue.