A United States Midshipman in the PhilippinesStirling, Yates
General
A United States Midshipman in the Philippines
Stirling, Yates
Philippines -- Juvenile fiction; United States. Navy -- Juvenile fiction
Phil saw that the fire had grown apace and now the conflagration
threatened the entire town, but the greatest danger was to the church,
for the dawn breeze was carrying the hot, stifling smoke and flame
high on the church walls. It would be but a matter of minutes before
the church itself would be on fire. The sun was slowly approaching the
horizon; Phil saw the broad white band of light stretching across the
eastern sky. Out on the water to the right of the town the lofty spars
and smoke-stack of the “Mindinao” were indistinctly visible; Sydney was
ready to begin his allotted work when the day had broken so that he
could recognize friend from foe.
“If that fellow Tillotson hadn’t funked,” the midshipman whispered
fiercely, his teeth set firmly, “and we could have had his men to the
right of the town, we could have flayed ’em alive. Now they’ll all
escape past the gunboat--unless we let the gunboat open the ball and
drive them all this way.--I’ll do it,” he cried determinedly.
They had now reached the grassy-topped mound, the Colt gun placed in
battery, and the first string of cartridges fed into its steel maw.
“Sergeant,” Phil commanded tersely, “deploy your men to the right and
left, and take shelter. Don’t fire without orders.”
The sergeant saluted and gave a quick, sharp command. The soldiers
melted from sight. This was a new experience for them. Six months in
the islands and the only real fights they had seen were included in
a few shots at the disappearing brown men after they had fired their
volley from ambush, killing and wounding several of their comrades. Now
here were over five hundred yelling natives worked up to the wildest
pitch of savage triumph before their eyes, within range of their trusty
guns, and as yet no orders to fire.
“Stop your grumbling,” O’Neil overheard the sergeant tell one of his
soldiers in language more forceful than polite. “This is something
that your thick skulls can’t savvy. It’s naval strategy. Wait till
the ball opens and every mother’s son of you can prove his claim to a
sharpshooter’s medal.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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