Signal Encounter at Guantanamo

On the evening of 22 April 1898, the recently organized First Marine Battalion— better known in the lore of the Spanish-American War as “Huntington’s Battalion”—departed New York Harbor on board the transport USS Panther, bound for duty with Rear Admiral William T. Sampson’s North Atlantic Fleet. Sampson’s ships had recently established a naval blockade of Cuba’s northern ports.

The experience level of the battalion’s officers was unmatched by earlier Marine expeditionary units. Among its 23 officers, four were Civil War veterans; even the junior lieutenant had seven years’ service. Among its company-grade officers, six had graduated from the School of Application—the Marine Corps’ first formal training school, established in 1891. Eight of the battalion’s enlisted men were graduates of the 1896 class, including one of Company C’s sergeants, John H. Quick, who went down in history over the next few months for bravery under fire and eventually as an authentic Marine Corps legend. The unit’s strength at this time represented approximately 25% of the Corps’ total force.¹

After a brief stopover in Hampton Roads, Virginia, the Panther, escorted by the cruiser USS Montgomery, set a course for Key West, Florida. The commanding officer of the recently commissioned—and short-handed—Panther, Commander G. C. Reiter, requested help on his signal bridge. Battalion commander Lieutenant Colonel Robert W. Huntington obliged, detailing six Marines for the duty. A northeastern gale encountered off Cape Hatteras made station-keeping especially difficult and led to a flurry of signals between the ships in an effort to maintain convoy formation. Numerous messages employed the Navy Signal Book flag hoists and related to course changes, speeds, and similar matters. Impressed with the signaling competence of the Marines, Reiter praised them to Huntington, who duly recorded this compliment in his next report to the Commandant of the Marine Corps.² This competence was to play a key role in the battalion’s future combat success.

After several weeks at Key West, the latter few spent training ashore, the battalion reembarked in the Panther and sailed for Cuba. On 10 June, the ship entered Guantanamo Bay, landing the Marines on the eastern shore. The battalion established camp on a small hill, the site of a former Spanish blockhouse.

Meanwhile, other ships already had established a presence in the harbor. The complement included the cruiser USS Marblehead, under the command of Commander Bowman H. McCalla, who had been ordered by Admiral Sampson to seize and hold Guantanamo Bay for the use of the fleet as a safe harbor. The guns of the Marblehead previously had cleared the harbor of enemy ships and had chased Spanish infantry from the immediate shore. At this point, the principal function of Huntington’s battalion was to maintain this tranquil situation and to ensure that the regrouping Spaniards did not interfere with harbor operations. In recognition of McCalla’s authority within the Bay, Huntington reported to him for orders, establishing a command relationship that lasted until Huntington departed Guantanamo in August.³

The battalion’s first night ashore was relatively peaceful and remained so until the next afternoon. Huntington had established his command post in the vicinity of the blockhouse ruins, an earthen mound that overlooked the bay, and ordered his companies to pitch tents. As the men soon realized, this choice of venue provided minimum cover for the command post and the nearby hospital tent.

Comprising Huntington’s command group were his adjutant, First Lieutenant Herbert Draper, the sergeant major, First Sergeant Henry Good, and the battalion’s three-man color guard, led by Sergeant Richard Silvey. In addition to this permanently assigned group, two B Company Marines, Privates Michael Costello and James Kelly, were detailed for duty as Huntington’s signalmen. Completing this group were a bugler and drummer, assigned on a rotating basis from each company.

Although it never formally has been recognized as such, this was a clear outline of a battalion communication section. Meeting the battalion’s external communication needs were wig-wag (signal-flag)-qualified signalmen Costello and Kelly, who were to perform their duties day and night, often under fire. Camp communications were the responsibility of field musicians, whose calls regulated the daily routine and on occasion sounded operational calls: Alarm, Assemble, To Arms, etc. Supplementing this visual and sound capability were runners, readily available from within the command group. In functional terms, this visual-, sound-, and messenger-based system provided Huntington with the means to control his battalion and to maintain contact with higher headquarters and supporting units, requirements still valid today.⁴

On the afternoon of the 11th, the reinforced and reorganized Spanish troopers announced their intentions. Two D Company Marines, outposted to the southeast, were ambushed and killed by advancing Spanish forces. Heeding this warning, the battalion adopted a defensive position around its tents and in the ensuing darkness repulsed a series of Spanish assaults that lasted until dawn, an attack pattern that the Spanish were to repeat the following night.

The darkness of night and the chaparral surrounding the Marines’ position made it difficult to see the advancing Spanish. Huntington turned to McCalla for assistance. The Marblehead’s log at 2000 that night records Huntington’s first request for the ship to provide battlefield illumination. Huntington asked that the ship shine its searchlight on his left flank, the sector first threatened by the Spanish. As the enemy changed attack direction, Huntington sent additional messages, requesting that the light be trained in those directions. At 0115 on 12 June, Huntington signaled the Marblehead: “Please send doctor.” Having observed the heavy rifle fire, McCalla may have concluded that the Marines were taking heavy casualties and needed additional medical help. But in fact, the battalion doctor, Acting Assistant Surgeon John B. Gibbs, had just become the unit’s most recent casualty, having taken a fatal Mauser bullet to the head.

The next day, Huntington consolidated his position on the hill. Striking his tents, he constructed a fortified position, measuring 40 yards to the side, and slightly north of the former tent camp. From there, he repulsed a series of attacks that commenced at dark and lasted until dawn. As he had done on the previous night, Huntington signaled the Marblehead throughout the battle with requests for battlefield illumination.

On the morning of the 13th, Huntington signaled to McCalla: “Please send boat to pick up body of Pvt. Tau- man (sic) on rocky shore near little stone hut.” This message referred to the previous night’s death of Company D Private Goode Taurman, who had been part of a 50-man patrol led by First Lieutenant Wendell C. Neville. While Huntington was repelling attacks on his main position, Neville, well out and to the west of Huntington’s main position, encountered Spanish elements occupying a small stone fort overlooking the bay. In the ensuing action, the Marine firing line at one point was disposed along the cliffs edge. During the exchange of fire, the wounded Private Taurman lost his balance and toppled onto the rocks at the foot of the cliff.⁵

A series of messages exchanged between Huntington and McCalla early on the 14th summarize the battalion’s situation and provide insight into Huntington’s intentions for the day. At 0600, McCalla, acknowledging the absence of a Spanish attack the previous night (the 13th), signaled Huntington: “I hope the Marines had a good sleep last night. Is there anything I can do for you ?” Huntington replied: “Please send me Dolphin’s Marines. I send out 350 men at 0930 on expedition.” Immediately, McCalla passed Huntington’s request to the small gunboat Dolphin, situated nearby in the harbor. Shortly, the Dolphin’s six Marines, commanded by First Sergeant Barney Sullivan, went ashore and manned part of the perimeter until they were relieved the following day.⁶

The expedition to which Huntington referred in his message was a task force consisting of Companies C and D and Cuban Army elements organized under the command of Captain George F. Elliot, who assembled the group at the base camp on the beach, just below the hilltop fortifications. After breakfast, the column began marching south in single file along the bay’s eastern shore. Emerging onto the chaparral-covered plateau, they observed the Dolphin, cruising slowly on a parallel course in support.

Reaching Windward Point, Elliot turned due east, and after considerable exertions from his sun-baked troops, reached the heights overlooking the main Spanish position, effectively flanking the enemy. He disposed his troops rapidly on the ridgeline. Once in place, the Marines commenced a steady volume of aimed rifle fire on the enemy below.

The Spanish troops, later determined to be a multicompany force of regular infantry and loyalist guerrillas, had been using the ranch complex in the valley as their assembly point for launching attacks against Huntington. The ranch’s well provided the only water within miles, giving the position particular strategic value. Elliot’s mission was clear: “Destroy the well at Cuzco.”⁷

In New Hampshire after the battle, Lieutenant Colonel Robert W. Huntington (center) posed with two other Marine officers who landed at Guantanamo: First Lieutenant Herbert L. Draper, adjutant, and Captain Charles L. McCawley, assistant quartermaster.

The Marines continued their fire well into the afternoon, keeping the Spanish pinned to their positions and inflicting casualties. With their canteens long dry, the Marines on the ridge were feeling the sun’s effects. Elliot sensed that the battle was in equilibrium and decided to make the Spaniards even more uncomfortable. For this, he turned to the guns of the Dolphin, still offshore but not yet committed to action. Elliot called for a signalman to communicate his request to the ship, and a nearby Marine, Private John Fitzgerald from Company C, answered his command.

Lacking the regulation wig-wag signal flag, Fitzgerald improvised one by tying a cloth to the end of his rifle. Then, to attract the ship’s attention, he stood atop the ridge line in full view of the enemy below. The position alone was hazardous enough, but Fitzgerald’s flag-waving movements as he transmitted the message quickly made him the prime focus of Spanish fire. When his efforts were rewarded as the ship commenced firing, Fitzgerald resumed his prone position and reverted to his rifleman’s role.

The Dolphin’s initial salvos sailed over the Spanish lines, hurtling into a hill where newly arrived Marine reinforcements led by A Company’s First Lieutenant L. J. Magill had almost finished encircling the enemy. Quickly realizing that the naval gunfire was misguided, Elliot called for another signalmen, this time to transmit messages adjusting the Dolphin’s fire.

At once, up stepped C Company’s Sergeant John H. Quick, who, in the same fashion as Fitzgerald, improvised a signal flag from a kerchief tied to his rifle. Quick’s tenure as a signalman lasted somewhat longer than Fitzgerald’s.

On three separate occasions, Quick stood outlined on the ridge, the target of enemy fire, transmitting Elliot’s messages to the Dolphin. His performance was even more remarkable because the ship-to-signalman target line required Quick to stand with his back to enemy fire. Both Quick and Fitzgerald were awarded the Medal of Honor for their bravery under fire that day.

With the Dolphin’s barrage beginning to take effect on target, the Spanish began a retreat through the narrow valley leading north. By 1500, the Marines’ victory was complete. Elliot directed that the well be destroyed and the ranch complex burned, and signaled again to the Dolphin—this time for water. The boats bringing water returned to the ship with his few wounded and those suffering from the heat. Prisoners taken at the scene and Spanish stragglers who surrendered over the following days confirmed the overwhelming victory achieved by Elliot at Cuzco. United States Marines had eliminated the Spanish threat on the eastern shore.⁸

While the Marine camp was bothered little by the Spaniards, entrenched Spanish infantry on the bay’s western shore in the vicinity of Jicacal Beach were interfering with McCalla’s mine-clearing efforts. Ships’ boats used to clear these devices had become targets of enemy rifle fire. The battalion’s next principal task was to eliminate this threat.

At 0300 on 25 June, a force commanded by Hunting- ton and consisting of Companies C and E, plus a detachment of Cubans, embarked in ships’ boats and headed for the western shore. Landing on Jicacal Beach at 0410, Huntington deployed his forces in an effort to surround the Spanish. As the Marines advanced, they realized quickly that the Spanish positions were empty. Further patrolling yielded evidence that a company-size force had occupied the area, but it had departed the previous day.

Meanwhile, the Marblehead had taken a position to support the landing party. At 0602, McCalla signaled Huntington: “Hicocal (sic) Pt. must be thoroughly examined.” At 0614, McCalla signaled again: “Is the NE (northeast) extremity of Hicocal Pt. now being examined?” Hunting- ton replied tersely: “Yes, by Cubans.” Ten minutes later, Huntington provided a more detailed situation report to McCalla: “We have found tracks about a day old of about one hundred men leading to westward. Scouts are now following.” This seemed to satisfy McCalla, and his subsequent signals to Huntington were primarily sighting reports of distant Spanish scouts on horseback. With no enemy positions to attack, Huntington’s force reembarked in the small boats and was back in camp enjoying breakfast by 0800. This “special operation” proved to be the last major action conducted by the battalion during the remainder of its stay on shore.

Huntington maintained his outposts and continued patrolling, but it soon became clear that the Spanish were content to leave the Marines undisturbed. To enliven the camp routine, Huntington added an evening parade on the hill, another sign of the diminishing Spanish threat. As June ended, the two B-Company signalers were relieved of their command-post duties by Private Harry Ellis, B Company, and Private Joseph T. McMahon, C Company, both of whom remained as the battalion’s signalers during the entire month of July.⁹

In early August, the battalion broke camp and embarked in the transport USS Resolute. When he departed the bay on 9 August, Huntington understood the battalion’s new destination to be the Isle of Pines. The Navy needed a secure base near Cuba’s south coast, where it could continue its blockade. En route, however, the Resolute, joined by several other ships, detoured toward the southern port of Manzanilla. The Navy’s intent was to bombard the city, then land the Marines. The bombardment commenced, and the Marines prepared to land, but at the last moment the task force received the order suspending hostilities.

Still on board the Resolute, the battalion returned to Guantanamo Bay, where it soon received orders to return to the United States. Upon arrival at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the men were to disembark and make camp. The Commandant’s intent was to rehabilitate the battalion in a cool, healthy environment prior to its disbandment. Arriving at Portsmouth, the battalion disembarked on 26 August and established a camp on nearby Seavey’s Island. The Commandant inspected the battalion on 2 September, and on the 19th, it disbanded, its officers and men returning to various East Coast duty stations.¹⁰

A Marine battalion on deployment is routine in today’s Marine Corps. And few if any Marines can remember when this was not true. Huntington’s battalion, embarked without a specified mission, had all the characteristics of a modern Marine expeditionary force. Its rifles, artillery, and machine guns gave it a combined-arms character. And its quantities of embarked supplies and equipment gave it sustainability unlike any previously fielded force. Its men were experienced and trained in ground warfare, including such specialist skills as signaling. Attached Navy personnel served its medical needs, and naval gunfire supported its tactical operations. Throughout its stay at Guantanamo, day and night patrolling was continuous, and signaling played a key role. And its men engaged vigorously in afloat contingency planning, particularly for the proposed seizure of the Isle of Pines and a landing at Manzanilla.

Both afloat and ashore, Huntington’s Marines performed skillfully, none more so than the signalers, who acquitted themselves well, both during routine operations and under fire. That enough Marines were able to step forward and perform signal duties was no accident. Successive late-19th-century Commandants were consistent in their policy that all relevant general military subjects be part of a Marine’s training. This policy paid off at Guantanamo.