Hamilton Fish died as he had lived--defiantly, running into the very
face of the enemy, standing squarely upright on his legs instead of
crouching, as the others called to him to do, until he fell like a
column across the trail. "God gives," was the motto on the watch I
took from his blouse, and God could not have given him a nobler end;
to die, in the fore-front of the first fight of the war, quickly,
painlessly, with a bullet through the heart, with his regiment behind
him, and facing the enemies of his country.

The line at this time was divided by the trail into two wings. The
right wing, composed of K and A Troops, was advancing through the
valley, returning the fire from the ridge as it did so, and the left
wing, which was much the longer of the two, was swinging around on
the enemy's right flank, with its own right resting on the barbed-
wire fence. I borrowed a carbine from a wounded man, and joined the
remnant of L Troop which was close to the trail.

This troop was then commanded by Second Lieutenant Day, who on
account of his conduct that morning and at the battle of San Juan
later, when he was shot through the arm, was promoted to be captain
of L Troop, or, as it was later officially designated, Capron's
troop. He was walking up and down the line as unconcernedly as
though we were at target practice, and an Irish sergeant, Byrne, was
assisting him by keeping up a continuous flow of comments and
criticisms that showed the keenest enjoyment of the situation. Byrne
was the only man I noticed who seemed to regard the fight as in any
way humorous. For at Guasimas, no one had time to be flippant, or to
exhibit any signs of braggadocio. It was for all of them, from the
moment it started, through the hot, exhausting hour and a half that
it lasted, a most serious proposition. The conditions were