70 The Rough Riders 



our destination was Santiago. On the morning of 

 the 2Oth we were close to the Cuban coast. . High 

 mountains rose almost from the water's edge, look- 

 ing huge and barren across the sea. We sped on- 

 ward past Guantanamo Bay, where we saw the little 

 picket-ships of the fleet; and in the afternoon we 

 sighted Santiago Harbor, with the great warships 

 standing off and on in front of it, gray and sullen in 

 their war-paint. 



All next day we rolled and wallowed in the sea- 

 way, waiting until a decision was reached as to 

 where we should land. On the morning of June 

 22d the welcome order for landing came. 



We did the landing as we had done everything 

 else tbat is, in a scramble, each commander shift- 

 ing for himself. The port at which we landed was 

 called Daiquiri, a squalid little village where there 

 had been a railway and iron-works. There were no 

 facilities for landing, and the fleet did not have a 

 quarter the number of boats it should have had for 

 the purpose. All we could do was to stand in with 

 the transports as close as possible, and then row 

 ashore in our own few boats and the boats of the 

 warships. Luck favored our regiment. My former 

 naval aide, while I was Assistant Secretary of the 

 Navy, Lieutenant Sharp, was in command of the 

 Vixen, a converted yacht; and everything being 

 managed on the go-as-you-please principle, he 



