Saturday, August 13, 1898

The final act of this conflict between the Spaniards and the Americans has taken place. It lasted two hours this morning; the simulated attack was met by a simulated defense.

At 9 o’clock, the American fleet readied itself by raising its flag, positioning the Charleston in front of Parañaque, and rallying the other ships behind the Petrel right in front of Manila. The Concorde is moving to the north of the Pasig, where she will keep watch over the Tondo coast until the city surrenders. It is hard to believe that the cannons on the southern pier have been ordered not to fire to prevent the likely bombardment by the Americans.

The fleet coming from Cavite is sailing in the following order: Olympia, Monterey, Raleigh, Charleston, Baltimore, Boston. The small ships are moving independently of this formation.

At 9:38 the Olympia opened fire west-southeast, at 5,000 meters, followed by the Monterey and the Raleigh a few minutes later. All three ships aiming their shots at San Antonio were missing their target completely. As I watched the continuous fire to the finish, the following words of a Spanish officer ran through my mind: All this cannon fire is merely a bluff and Fort San Antonio would not be threatened if they did not fire at the American troops.”

Some missiles landing on Spanish trenches have caused some lost lives. After the Monterey took the lead position at 9:49 a shell fell on Malate. By 10:00, a heavy shower of rain hid the details of the struggle, if there actually was one. I would say it was Much ado about nothing.

At 10:25, the weather cleared to show the Americans drawn up in two columns pointing approximately north-northwest. The Petrel and the Callao approached land, with the latter merely 2,000 meters from San Antonio, and the next day’s observations showed that six shells penetrated the fort, one of which was responsible for the death of three men manning a cannon. Another flattened the ramparts at the point where there were no gun emplacements. A shell, apparently fired from the Callao, exploded close to another cannon, lifting its parapet and killing several servants.

At 10:40, the fleet stopped firing. The only shots heard were those directed towards San Antonio and the trenches, but the Spaniards were not responding to the enemy fire. At any rate, from our decks we saw no counterattack. If we can believe the Americans, 20 projectiles were fired from the fort, killing two men and wounding six. They could scarcely have done less. The start of the siege is not exactly like a ballet performance. The 24cm and 25cm cannons at the ramparts of Manila remained silent for the same astonishing reason, the “prevention of the city’s bombardment” rapidly becoming a proverb since it was being heard constantly everywhere.

At 10:52, the artillery fire resumed both at sea an on land. Undoubtedly, the infantry had not been able to take over the trenches. There was one final burst of cannon fire from the fort. One minute later, a massive shell smashed into it.

By 11:00 the American flag crowned the crest. The soldiers retreated from the trenches which hardly showed any trace of battle. From this point onward, the Spaniards were obviously on the defensive. The troops from San Antonio and the surroundings either capitulated or beat a retreat. In the direction of Paco, the confusion continued as the insurgents attacked a battalion of sailors and captured two sections.

The victorious American troops were suddenly everywhere, coming from Malate and arriving in Luneta at 11:30. Along the way, they took over the 24cm cannons without firing a single shot, making one believe that a tacit agreement did exist between them, since both camps did not use their cannons.

The Spanish volunteers guarding the ramparts fired only a single volley as the Americans appeared. There again a situation of pure bluff. The Americans replied with a few shots, and then gave orders for an immediate ceasefire. The end result showed a few wounded on both sides. The white flag was raised in the southern part of the city as the comedy continued to unfold. When the Olympia finally signalled the city to capitulate, it was obvious that no reply came since the city had already surrendered.

From noon to 2 o’clock we took a much-needed rest. Then we dined. At 2:35, a Belgian vessel flying a parliamentary flag came alongside the Olympia. Admiral Dewey boarded a small American steamer full of troops which entered their new port. The Callao followed it. This is the end. They are negotiating the terms of surrender. The general feeling is that this whole scene has been meticulously prepared since yesterday, or perhaps earlier. W find this deception completely offensive.

At 3:38, the American squadron anchored 4,000 meters south-southwest of the Walled City. By 6:00, they celebrated their victory by lowering the Spanish flag and replacing it with the American fla to the thundering sound of a 21-gun salute.

This is definitely a great American victory, but a humiliating defeat for Spain, and undoubtedly, for Europe. Someday we shall discover the real truth. Spain is finished, and no matter what she chooses to believe, she has lost both her influence and possessions throughout the world primarily through her own fault. Her ferocious presence will fade away and, as it often happens, will end in ridicule and absurdity. And thus, the final curtain drops on this shameful tragedy. The sun which has shone for 400 years on the pearl of the Orient seas will no longer shine over Spain.

The Americans are festively marching into Manila with their rifles on their shoulders. Not a single gunshot is heard. The Spaniards do not show any resistance, except for the artillery unit in Luneta which fired this morning against the rebels in the north. One thousand five hundred Spaniards, a thousand Tagals, and one sole American regiment took part in the struggle. The next day, those in the garrison who were not involved in the fighting left their trenches, taking their guns with them.

Some details about the Americans. Some Yankees were seen entering the Pasig on a small steamboat; instead of hoisting their flag, they put up some sort of American publicity. Even worse, before the end of the day, two drunk volunteers were beating up the natives and pushing them around with the butts of their rifles.

And soon after Manila opened its gates, a formal order posted on the road to Paco prohibited the Tagals from entering the city. A group of natives, refusing to take heed, were blocked by the Americans, who harassed them with their bayonets.

Thursday, August 11, 1898

Still nothing. Admiral Dewey is essentially seeking an opportunity to bombard. But then again, the Americans are not so sure of themselves and fear being ambushed by the Tagals. This view is shared by many, in which case, Dewey will attack. If Merritt releases the insurgents in Manila, it would be the perfect excuse.

The Petrel and the Concorde are guarding the city and have completely blocked it from other ships anchored at bay. Yesterday the German consul had to request permission from Admiral Dewey to enter Cavite. Tension is constantly rising in the city. Fresh foodstuffs are unavailable, a rumor denied by some. The French consul has been advised that the Americans have categorically refused to grant the seven-day extension requested by the governor to enable him to inform his government.

Tonight, the American fleet is under pressure. The whole day was spent meeting with General Merritt at his camp. The Belgian consul was also present, having been designated the spokesman for the captain-general. While diplomatic discussions continue in diplomatic parlance, the most important element in the group remains silent but plans to attack anyway.

There is probably a plan to surrender Manila while pretending not to do so. What a contemptible idea! They are prepared to sacrifice these valiant people in order to provide these nonsensical negotiations a semblance of truth. Our sympathy goes to these brave Spanish soldiers. Never have soldiers had such poor leaders completely lacking in intelligence and consistently making incoherent and inconclusive decisions. They should have either surrendered Manila three months ago or defended the city to the very end. These small battles being waged by 10, 20, or a hundred poor souls, fighting hopelessly with all their strength, are futile. They are fighting for an unknown objective in the interest of a non-existent plan. This farcical attack will take its toll on more human lives, making them sacrificial lambs in the name of this so-called “honor.” The Spanish governor is resigned to give himself up but will go through the motions of actual battle, at the expense of 200 or 300 soldiers who will die for what he believes to be the real cause.

General Agustin was not willing to accept this plan up to the very end. He has consistently complained of his role in this deplorable situation. When someone had the audacity to declare and show evidence to the Cortes that there were 20,000 Spanish soldiers and 200 of the latest cannons in Luzon, the unfortunate general, outraged, responded with a telegram on June 21 describing the real situation, and this is the reason he was relieved of his command. Everyone praised him for his conduct and his sincerity. He took over the government of Manila the day before the Spanish defeat and surrendered it on the eve of the city’s capitulation.

Wednesday, August 10, 1898

The Waiting

Nothing. The Americans have not stepped up their attack. Three hours full of tension follow as the Concorde and Petrel are sighted approaching the city. Both are anchored 4,000 meters from the shore, six kilometers from San Antonio. An open mockery on the part of the Spanish artillery could provoke an immediate reaction. In this case, it would be best for the Spaniards not to furnish their enemy with a perfect excuse to open fire. At present, the art of provocation seems to be their only skill. It is difficult to refrain from criticizing the lethargy of the Spaniards. I am extremely tempted to use another term to define their attitude. Actually, every marine in this blockade dreams of a nocturnal attack on the American fleet as it lies anchored in the bay. Obviously, it is just a dream, since the logical consequence of a bombardment is retaliation. Why don’t the sailors on land arm the steam launches in the Pasig with torpedoes to use in the event of a surprise attack from these insolent Americans? If eight or ten steam launches fire on the Olympia or any other ship, one good hit would suffice to make the Americans uncomfortable.

The inertia of the Spaniards is beyond belief. An insurgent’s barge driven off-course by the typhoon of August 2 is now 600 meters from the Pasig. All one has to do is to take possession of it. On its foredeck is a 120mm cannon. There is much talk among the port authorities, but no one has acted.

Among the Spanish refugees on board the Adelaide, there are men who could be useful on land. One of them is this so-called photographer, who claims he is a correspondent for an illustrated magazine. And what about this captain of the artillery who has lost his right arm? He does not appear to be ill. Most of us on board think he should be on land. There is an armless hero called Cervantes, whose example he should follow.

Tuesday, August 9, 1898

The Refugees

Today, at noon, the Americans will bombard Manila, unless it is a vain threat. For the past 24 hours, the ships anchored at bay have been taking aboard different groups of foreigners and Spanish civilians. English and German steamships are towing barges carrying all the refugees under their protection. The women and children being transported in rowboats are frightened by the bad weather. And even the Isabel, carrying a large number of dependents, was forced to return to port.

I have to say that France has not played a role worthy of her during these past three months. It would have been better for her not to have appeared in Manila Bay rather than present such a pathetic position. The English have always been friends and secret allies of the Americans, always providing assistance. The Germans are hated and feared. But France’s presence has not been felt, since she has neither assisted nor bothered anyone. She has been totally ignored, and this is the worst insult that could be dealt her.

This morning, Admiral Montojo, his wife, and two children took refuge on board the _______. Since yesterday, the ladies have been having nervous fits due to the bad weather.

Noon. The bombardment should have begun. Evidently, it will not be today. It is overcast, raining, and the sea is calm. The American fleet is at anchor. The Petrel and the Concorde have just dropped anchor three-and-a-half miles to the west of the Walled City. Perhaps we will see some action tomorrow.

All the ships in Manila Bay are getting ready for action. The English are positioning themselves in Cavite alongside their American friends. The Princess Wilhelm set course for Mariveles in the company of the German steamships at the opposite end of the bay. Between them, the Bayard and the Pascal are also three-and-a-half miles away from the coast, with the Kaiser and Kaiserin Augusta nearby.

Monday, August 8, 1898


Yesterday, Governor Jaudenes convened a meeting of the consuls of France, England, Belgium, and Germany. He naturally appealed to their sentiments in the hope of obtaining their support to delay the Americans. He dwelt on the fate of the women, the children, and the wounded. The consuls pretended to convey the request to Admiral Dewey. At 7 o’clock this morning, they boarded ship and headed toward the Olympia.

Instead of going as far as the admiral’s ship, these consuls turned midway. They only pretended to carry out their mission, realizing that it would lay themselves open to ridicule. The governor should realize that the Americans cannot assume responsibility for the 50,000 civilians in Manila, which include 3,000 sick. This is an absurd request to demand from an enemy wanting to take possession of a city at the earliest opportunity. The consuls could not have been in a position to negotiate more than an armistice. This has been the situation for the last three months. A bombardment would settle the matter. The Spaniards have had enough time. Even if granted a reprieve of three years, they would not be in a position to act decisively. A tacit agreement had, in fact, been made between Dewey and the governor general after Cavite. It is even possible there was a formal accord. The Americans seem to say: “Neither of us is in a position to attack the other. We do not intend to bombard the city, so there is no need for you to leave.” Dewey was not ready for an attack in May, and even if he carried out his plans in June, he would not have been successful, either. Only the insurgents would have benefitted from it, a situation which neither the Americans nor the Spaniards wished. Everyone seems perplexed by all of this.

Manila is reduced to defending itself with the 24 guns at Luneta, which is certainly insufficient to repulse the American squadron from its shores. We see vehicles carrying shells for 15cm cannons, which are being mounted on the sea front. The two that are visible from the outside must be a recent model, and one of them seems to be a mortar.

At the gun placement in Luneta, repairs are being done over the damage caused by bad weather these past few days. The Spanish artillery is not that interior after all; it is the poor training of their artillery men which is evident. Even compared to the Yankees, who are not at all accomplished, they are pitiful. Indeed, their gunpowder is of poor quality, due either to faulty manufacturing or bad storage. “All is rotten in Spain!” What an unfortunate country to be so criticized! Everything is in a very bad state. The cannons are exploding, the gunpowder does not fire, and the men are pathetic. During the battle fought on the first of May, the projectiles fired by this artillery (type 24) were falling short of the target, although there was enough time to correct the shortage.

Meanwhile, Manila was so well armed that it could not be penetrated by less than a thousand men. Marshal Primo de Rivera was convinced of this. He also knew it was important to control the sea with soldiers, cannons and, above all, an effective commander at the helm.

Manila still maintains its everyday routine. Vehicles loaded with furniture and belongings are everywhere. The foreigners have started their exodus. Since this morning, they have been seeking refuge for their families aboard the ships in the harbor. An air of sadness surrounds their plight. The Spanish officers are leaving their families for what could be a final separation. Some officers have difficulty holding back their tears. The farewell between Admiral Montojo and his family is heartrending. One of the young girls is sobbing, and two young officers (fiances or brothers) appear to take this parting very badly.

General Jaudenes’s orders with regard to the bombardment have been made public. It states the Spaniards’ intention to resist. Shelters for civilians have been designated in the different sections of the city. The Walled City has been divided into a number of zones, with the churches serving as places of refuge. From tomorrow morning, no vehicle will be allowed on the streets.

Some churches are now filled with people, mostly women. These buildings, in the worst Jesuit style, with parquet floors and wooden wall panelings, closely resemble the holds of giant steamers filled with immigrants. Everyone feels at home, with some laughing, and others beginning to quarrel. Some women are making coffee while others are cooking rice for the next meal. They exchange an abundance of inaccurate information, which sometimes results in violent verbal attacks. But the young people are strumming at their guitars at the entrance or singing beneath the porch. Mandolins playing a seguidilla can be heard. Behind the pillars, somewhere in the shadow, cockfighting is going on and bets are being placed.

I visualize a shell suddenly whistling through and falling in the midst of these joyful people, exploding in a tumult of screams and turning the carnival into a sea of blood…


Sunday, August 7, 1898

Finally, this farce is reaching its conclusion. I am convinced that up to the last minute, each one will do his utmost to mislead the other. General Merritt and Admiral Dewey have released the United States’ ultimatum for Manila’s surrender. The Spaniards have been given 48 hours to reply.

Admiral Dewey has informed the foreign squadrons of a likely American attack on Manila at the stroke of noon on Tuesday. The captain general’s immediate reply to the possible bombardment on Tuesday if he refused to surrender was that the Spanish flag would not be lowered.

Neither side is willing to compromise. Admiral Dewey pretends that his only option is to attempt a sea operation due to the numerous losses supposedly sustained by the land troops in the course of various attacks launched over the past days. In fact, the Americans have not yet attacked Manila, and during the fighting on July 1 and August 1, losses were few. It is a known fact that even the Spaniards sustained only six wounded in the fight that took place on the 2nd and 4th of August. If the Americans did attempt an intensive land attack, their high-powered weapons would have completely destroyed Manila. The Americans are fully aware of their uncontested strength, and feel no need to attack. On the contrary, they need to capture Manila and take possession of the city before a peace agreement is concluded. Obviously imminent is that Admiral Dewey plans to offer the Philippines as a gift to his country. According to the English, a certain number of civil servants will come after the arrival of the expedition troops, and the United States government will then take over the administration of Manila. It now seems evident that the United States has been considering the annexation of the Philippines since June.

The Americans, on the one hand, know that there is no need to bombard Manila, and the Spaniards, on the other, want to give the impression that they are going to attack. The truth of the matter is that the Americans never had the slightest intention of destroying the city, and the Spaniards did not for a single moment wish to be bombarded.

On August 4, when General Jaudenes announced the length of time he needed to consult his government, the Americans, out of absolute compassion, could not grant his request. And why not? Unless it was for the reason that their main interest was to use a conquered Manila as leverage in their peace treaty.

In short, the Americans were determined to capture Manila before making peace. What could Spain hope for at this point? Hold Manila at all costs for as long as possible? But the Spaniards made so many erroneous moves which, in the end, cost them dearly. In fact, we know today they lost everything in the name of peace.

Same day, Afternoon

Manila and its Surroundings

I shall go on land as soon as possible. The news of the ultimatum which has been spreading for the last three months has no great impact in this country that has been smelling of gunpowder and resounding of gunshots for the past three years. Manila is built almost entirely of wood to make it less vulnerable to earthquakes, but as a consequence, it has had frequent fires caused by constant bombardments. However, the Tagals are not demoralized by this situation.

In the Philippines, I met some Spanish officials who have no illusions. All they demand is the opportunity to fight. As the colonel of the light artillery stated:

–What will they accomplish by bombarding? They will merely kill women and children. These are the sordid details of war, but we are not going to be stopped.

What is the point in all this discussion when they refuse to take up arms? I suppose that the officer wished to explain that the death of civilians would not prevent them from fighting. If such were the case, the Americans would be a long way from Manila.

Some Spanish officers have expressed their disappointment over the way the war is being conducted and the policies of their ministers. They deplore the lack of change and the abuse of civil servants and the court systems. They feel that the only difference is that the newcomers have empty stomachs and are therefore three times more greedy than their predecessors.

“No one has ever wanted to look the situation in the face,” commented someone. “We have always postponed making decisions. We have arrived at the present disastrous situation because there has been no remedy for the ills which we suffer.”

Camara’s recall was the last blow for these courageous people. They realized that the pathetic politicians in Madrid did not suspect how serious the Philippine war was between the Americans and the Spaniards until Dewey’s squadron entered the bay. If cruisers like the Pelayo and the Charles-Quint with their torpedoes were in Manila, they could have put Dewey’s fleet in a precarious situation.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to secure provisions. The troops have no more bread and are living on b biscuits.

The liveliness of the streets has not diminished. Although we id not know Manila at the prime of its prosperity, we still feel something feverish in the air, with the people no longer interested in their affairs for several weeks now, the rich Chinese leaving, and the Tagals deserting their jobs. Only the coachmen are seen driving their emaciated little horses. Everyone seems to be waiting for some spectacular event to take place. Nothing can be more tiring than waiting, like spectators in a theater, for the sound of gunfire, a calamity, or the murder which would bring down the curtain. The Spaniards have always lived with the vague fear of a massacre. The Americans pretend to share the same apprehension and take advantage of the situation to impose their will on all without any accountability to anyone.

Before retiring on board ship we stopped at the Luneta. There were numerous vehicles on the promenade and the weather was pleasantly cool.

Looking at all these people, we could not believe that in 48 hours, there would be a bombardment. Everyone was strolling quietly and appeared to be enjoying the beautiful day. Admiral Montojo, in the company of one of his daughters, passed by in his vehicle. We noticed that he looked well and had such an untroubled expression that it was hard to believe Admiral Dewey sank his entire fleet three months ago. He gambled and lost, and has called it quits. But what about the fatherland?

Saturday, August 6, 1898

The Insurgents

It is becoming certain that the Tagal and American alliance will not last. The Americans have confirmed that in the battle of Malate, they did not defend the insurgents. Instead of being supportive, they maintained a rather hostile neutrality. The degree of friendship between the two has been dictated by the Americans’ need for soldiers until their own troops arrive. Prior to the start of open hostilities in April, Commodore Dewey treated Aguinaldo as an equal, recognizing the fact that after the battle of Cavite, the Americans had not made any real progress towards the possession of the islands. Consequently, as their troops increased, they were able to put more distance between them and the insurgents. When their soldiers are in place, and they can negotiate from a position of strength, the Yankees will treat their former allies as rebels if they refuse to accept the former as their superiors. Once this happens, the Filipino will become an alien in this country once more.

But the situation has not yet reached that point. And yet, before yesterday, the insurgents were forced to surrender Paco to General Greene’s soldiers who had settled there equipped with 22 cannons. Aguinaldo’s troops were left with no alternative but to decamp. They were not consulted, and orders were given without explanation. The deterioration of this situation resulted upon the arrival of the third convoy between the 25th and the 30th of July. It was quite evident that Admiral Dewey was no longer collaborating with Aguinaldo after July 17, the arrival of the second convoy, although in the initial stage, when the first fleet of the convoy arrived, Dewey readily provided Aguinaldo with arms.

The insurgents have been armed with 30,000 guns, of which 11,600 are Remingtons and Mausers offered to them by Commodore Dewey at the end of May. These men, numbering anywhere from 30,000 to 70,000 have cut all communication between Manila and the rest of the country. On the island of Luzon, they have taken around 5,000 prisoners. Not only have they disbanded the Spanish defense, but more importantly, they have also been instrumental in having 18,000 men of the local militia desert their posts. Today, they must surely regret that they did not muster all these forces for their own interest. Instead of awaiting the arrival of the American troops to join forces with Admiral Dewey against Manila, they were clever enough to force him to reach a compromise with them before that. If they were daring enough, they could have entered Manila six weeks ago and Dewey would have been obliged to follow them. But if they enter Manila tomorrow, chances are they will be ordered to remain no farther than the entrance to the city. Dewey may not have the skills of a war tactician, but is certainly a shrewd politician capable of fooling an entire country.

Friday, August 5, 1898

It is said that the Monterey has brought formal orders to attack. But perhaps the victor and the vanquished would eventually end the fighting and maybe even settle their problem without combat.

There is threat of a typhoon. The strong winds from the west have worsened the situation at sea. We are forced to close all portsides and doors to keep the water from coming in. The defense mounted by the junk boats at the mouth of the Pasig River has failed. We have been enduring these torrential tropical rains for a month now. The Tagals, however, are indifferent to the weather, and continue surrounding Manila and the countryside. What would the Americans do here without them? Sinking a fleet at anchor is certainly only the first step towards the conquest of a country that is bigger than Hongkong or Ireland.

The shots heard on the evening of August 1 and 2 came from the attacks attempted by General Agustin and is units against the Americans in their trenches. Insignificant losses with no decisive results.

Tonight, a dramatic turn of events. We have learned from the consulate that the governor general of the Philippines, General Agustin, has been removed from office. Nothing could be more ridiculous; for the past four days, he has been working secretly at his desk. But what is more revolting is the example set by Madrid, whose policies are an incredible mixture of stupidity, incoherence, inertia and hysterical indecisions.

General Jaudenes y Jaudenes has been appointed governor, with Francisco Rizzo his deputy. This is nothing compared to General Monet’s appointment as chief of defense after deserting his post and his men, a constant subject of severe criticism. Together with his 2,800 men and General Agustin’s family, he found himself surrounded by insurgents since June. Under the pretext of escorting Mrs. Agustin and her five children across the Tagal lines, General Monet and his aide-de-camp abandoned their men. Some say that the true version of the story is that Monet abandoned his troops because he was aware of the implacable hatred of the Tagals. Of all the Spaniards, he is the most hated by the Tagals, having allegedly exerted heavy-handed authority by putting to death thousands of natives, women and children included, during the last repression of the uprising.

In order to promote more confusion, the same newspapers which carried news items regarding Agustin’s downfall have also reprinted an article published in Spain, dated the 21st of July, in which the new governor sings high praises to “the heroism of the Philippine army, its illustrious chief, and the nation.” The appointment orders dated the 24th were evidently pre-empted by the newspaper article.

All these insincere half-truths disgust us. Have people really reached this level? One could almost say that the empty pride of the vanquished found glory in their defeat. There is nothing else left for this nation but to face death.

Thursday, August 4, 1898

This morning, the American monitor, Monterey, arrived in Cavite, escorted by a commercial steamer. Crossing the Pacific on this monitor weighing 4,000 tons must have been a remarkable exercise for the sailors. The Yankees’ prowess at sea is sure evidence that they have English blood in their veins.

Now that Camara’s squadron and the Pelayo have retired to Europe, what does Dewey need this monitor for? I am certain that the Monterey will not return to America, proving once again that they do covet this exceptional colony. They have come and intend to remain here. The insurgents are not blind and must have drawn their own conclusions at the sight of the Monterey with its 30cm cannons and the two 22cm guns in their turrets. Not even Spain has ever threatened Manila with cannons of this caliber. The Spaniards have certainly come up against a formidable negotiator. The Monterey, anchored in this bay, is an absolute fortress of steel.

Saturday’s fighting lasted three hours. It was a terrible night. General Greene had pushed the retrenchment forward at Camp Dewey with an impudence which could have cost him dearly if he were confronted with a better armed and more skilled enemy instead of the Spaniards who, with merely 3,000 men, advanced behind the bamboo and mangrove bushes extending along the right-hand side of the enemy lines, taking the Yankees completely by surprise. These Americans do not really understand the tactics of war. Their strength is based on an arrogance which will be their undoing the day that they pit themselves against an organized enemy. A division of Yankees could easily be overthrown by a German brigade.