Lieut. John H. Parker, 13th US Infantry, Late Commanding Gatling Guns at Santiago. Map—Santiago and Surrounding Area. Skirmish Drill at Tampa. Skirmish Drill at Tampa. Field Bakery. Awaiting Turn to Embark. Baiquiri. The “Hornet.” Waiting. Wrecked Locomotives and Machine Shops at Baiquiri. The Landing. Pack Train. Calvary Picket Line. San Juan Hill. Cuban Soldiers as They Were. Wagon Train. Gatling Battery under Artillery Fire at El Poso. Gatling Gun on Firing-Line July 1st. (Taken under fire by Sergeant Weigle). Fort Roosevelt. Sergeant Greene’s Gun at Fort Roosevelt. Skirmish Line in Battle. Fort Roosevelt. A Fighting Cuban, and Where He Fought. Map—Siege Lines at Santiago. Gatling Camp and Bomb-Proofs at Fort Roosevelt. Tree Between Lines Showing Bullet Holes. This Tree Grew on Low Ground. Spanish Block-House. Spanish Fort of Three-Inch Guns. Tentage in Cuba. After the Rain. Native Industry. Charge on San Juan Hill. Gatlings at Baiquiri Just Before Starting For the Front. Cuban Cart used by Gatling Gun Detachment, Priv. J. Shiffer Driving. Tiffany at his Gun in the Trench. Relics of the Battle. 1. Range Table of 16-cm. Gun in Spanish Fort, Silenced by Gatlings July 1, ’98. 2. Rear Sight of same Gun. 3. Fuse picked up by J. Shiffer July 1. 4. Remington Cartridge used by the Spanish Volunteers, the so-called “Explosive” Brass-covered Bullet. 5. Piece of Coral dug up in the Trenches. 6. Spanish Spurs. Cieba Tree, under Which General Toral Surrendered. Undergrowth in Cuba. Cuban Residence. “Reina Mercedes” Sunk by the “Iowa” near Mouth of Harbor of Santiago. PREFACE. On the morning of July 1st, the dismounted cavalry, including my regiment, stormed Kettle Hill, driving the Spaniards from their trenches. After taking the crest, I made the men under me turn and begin volley-firing at the San Juan Blockhouse and intrenchments against which Hawkins’ and Kent’s Infantry were advancing. While thus firing, there suddenly smote on our ears a peculiar drumming sound. One or two of the men cried out, “The Spanish machine guns!” but, after listening a moment, I leaped to my feet and called, “It’s the Gatlings, men! It’s our Gatlings!” Immediately the troopers began to cheer lustily, for the sound was most inspiring. Whenever the drumming stopped, it was only to open again a little nearer the front. Our artillery, using black powder, had not been able to stand within range of the Spanish rifles, but it was perfectly evident that the Gatlings were troubled by no such consideration, for they were advancing all the while.