e long sea voyage aboard crowded transports, and at
the same time help maintain the line of defense around the city. Most
of the newly arrived regiments were filled up with recruits with but
a few months' service; so this position afforded the opportunity to
get these men in shape for field-service.

This line of defense was the theater in which was acted the comedy
of the war. Here is where occurred the most foolish alarms and at
the same time some serious ones.

There is one famous charge (?) that occurred in a newly arrived
regiment, which was spending its first night on the Island of Luzon
in these trenches. It is known as the "Charge of the Hospital Corps,"
and promises to be handed down in army tradition. The gallant leader
of this daring advance was a young surgeon, recently appointed to
the regular establishment as a battalion pill-dispenser. His command
consisted of three privates and an acting steward of the Hospital
Corps.

Arguing that he was fighting a savage enemy, not a party to the Geneva
Convention, and consequently would not recognize as non-combatants
the wearers of the red cross, he succeeded in having a requisition
honored by the ordnance officer for five big forty-five caliber
"six-shooters," with which he armed himself and command.

This embryo warrior and his gallant following were tickled with their
toys, and flourished them most dangerously during the day, vowing
death and destruction to any thousand Filipinos who would dare to
face them and their death-dealing weapons.

The doctor, or "Pills," as the men called him, established his
battalion hospital in a ravine in a break in the trenches. It was a
lonesome place. Night came on, and the corps men retired to sleep their
first night on Luzon's soil; but their sleep was not easy. Visions of
gore and midnight slaughter passed in review before their drowsy eyes;
and just as a black-faced little rebel had them by the throat and
was plunging a great long knife into their vitals, they would awaken
with a start, feel under their heads for their fire-arms, to reassure
themselves, pat the trusty weapon a time or two, call it "good old
Bets," and again doze off to sleep, only to repeat the performance.

One hungry, gaunt-looking fellow, who his comrades said had a head that
would fit in a regulation full-dress helmet, could stand the nervous
strain no longer. The noises that came from the little thickets of
bamboo and cogonales into his little "tep