On arrival at the front, lunch was about over or just ready. Lieutenant E.D. Anderson (10th Cavalry) gave me two and one-half hardtacks from his supply, which he carried in his bosom. I was soon down for a little rest; all desultory firing had ceased; the pick and the shovel were the only things to disturb the quietude of that anxious night. Had been down but a short time when aroused by one of the Rough Riders, who had some rice and meat in an ammunition box which he brought from the captured blockhouse. The meat was undoubtedly mule, as the longer I chewed it the larger and more spongy it got, and were it not for the fact that I had had some experience in the same line many years before in Mexico while in pursuit of hostile Indians, I would certainly have accused our best friends (Rough Riders) of feeding us rubber. I made another effort for a little sleep, and was again aroused by some one passing around hardtack, raw bacon, etc., with instructions as to where to go to cook it. I thanked him and carefully laid it aside to resume my nap. At 2.40 A.M. the pickets were having such a lively set to, that I thought the general engagement was on. It was at this time I discovered that I was shivering cold, and that my teeth were rattling equal to a telegraph sounder; so under the circumstances, I concluded not to try for any more sleep. The dew was falling thick and heavy; no coat, no blanket, top shirt torn in strips from the brush, and undershirt wet and in my pack, thrown off on coming into battle. Early July 22nd the artillery took position on our left. Pickets kept up firing from 2.40 A.M. until 5.25, when the engagement became general. Shortly after 6.00 A.M. our artillery opened on the Spanish works, who promptly returned the compliment. During the firing the Dons exploded a shell in the muzzle of one of our pieces. Adjutant Barnum fell at 6.30 A.M.; his wound was promptly dressed, when I started to the Division Hospital with him. Though seriously hurt, I have never seen a better natured man. While en route, we laid him down to eat a can of salmon _found in the road_. In response to his query, "What's up, Sergeant?" the salmon was passed him; he helped himself, no further questions were asked, and the journey was resumed. On arrival at the hospital he was quickly examined and placed on a comfortable cot. Many of the attendants were completely played-out from overwork. A visit to a field hospital will have a lasting place in your memory. Every way you turn, amid the cries and groans, you get a beck or call to ease this, or hand me that, and one feels badly because of his inability to extend them material aid in their sufferings.