On their arrival at San Francisco the batteries received a royal welcome, the Red Cross society taking especial pains to make their visit a pleasant one. Several weeks were consumed in perfecting the organization and preparing it for foreign service. Lieutenant Wedgewood and Sergeants Brown and Fehr returned to Utah and recruited 104 men to complete the organizations to their full strength, leaving Salt Lake City with them on June 29th. On June 15th the batteries sailed away to the land across the seas where work of a far more serious nature awaited them.

The voyage across was not altogether unlike a voyage on any ordinary vessel, save for the fact that the men were crowded a little closer than on a first-class passenger boat, and the food was not so elaborate in character as one would expect to find in a first grade hotel or a railway dining car. The men kicked in the good natured American way and continued to eat what was given them and slept as best they could.

A stop was made at Honolulu, where occurred a reception to the Utah men which marked a bright day in the life of the soldier. The transports arrived on the night of the 23rd, and at 11 o'clock. The next morning they went ashore amid the cheers of the Hawaiians, who gave them a greeting hearty and cordial. Flowers were in profusion and pretty girls threw bouquets at the tired pilgrims until they felt that they had indeed found the "Paradise of the Pacific." Judge Kinney, a former resident of Salt Lake City, headed the reception committee, and there were elaborate preparations to make the stay one of gladness. The great sugar works and plantations at Oahu were visited and the points of interest carefully shown. Then under the shading palms, amid the fragrance of flowers, with hundreds of pretty girls to wait on them the men sat down to the banquet. In an atmosphere which breathes poetry and pleasure; where the soft tropical zephyr kisses the cheek as a mother does a sleeping infant the choicest fruits were served and substantial edibles tempted the appetite. Soldiers made love to maidens with dusky cheeks; American blue eyes told short stories of love to Kanaka brown, and the Caucasian ladies were not forgotten, for it was a feast of love. Everywhere was "Aloha, Aloha."

But all things end. The next day saw the ships sail away. With the sweet fragrance of blossoms still lingering in their nostrils and the long-to-be-remembered clasp of friendship yet plainly felt they passed away from the dreamy isle into the oblivion of the Pacific to resume the diet of beef a la can and coal a la "Colon." Once more was ship soup staple and tropical sea monotony plentiful.

A few days later the fleet arrived at Wake Island, which General Greene took possession of in the name of the United States. Five days after this the Ladrone Islands were sighted and passed.

About the middle of the month the Philippines were sighted and on the 17th the fleet of transports entered the harbor of Manila escorted by the cruiser "Boston."

The landing was an exceedingly difficult undertaking. The facilities for taking the guns from the transports were not perfect. The guns were put ashore in about five feet of water and had to be hauled out by hand, but the work was accomplished in the usual good natured American fashion, and when this task was finished men dried their clothes as though nothing had happened. In landing several amusing incidents occurred. Many Filipinos, anxious to earn a few "centavos," flocked around the ships, and not a few of the men hired a native as a sort of a pack horse to carry them ashore. One two-hundred-pound soldier was unfortunate in the selection of his human pack horse, for he sat astride the shoulders of a ninety-pound native until the little fellow broke down and buried himself and rider in the sad sobbing sea waves to the great amusement of his comrades and his own disgust. Other occurrences were equally as ludicrous.

The several days following the landing of the batteries were spent in giving the men the rest they had earned and needed. No work worthy of mention was done until the morning of the 29th, when came the first scent of trouble—of war. From the actions of the officers at early morning it was plain to be seen that something was going to happen. Two guns of Battery A were taken over to the trenches which had been built by the insurgents near the Capuchin Monastery. During the day the sharpshooters of the Twenty-third United States Infantry and the Spanish had been doing some desultory firing with little result on either side, save that the men kept their heads closer to the breastworks, while a battalion of the Colorado Infantry, under Colonel McCoy, advanced beyond the old trenches to a point near the monastery, where they threw up a new line of earthworks. The two guns of Battery A moved to this point the following morning and took possession of the emplacements already constructed. On the following morning two guns under Lieutenant Grow of Battery B were brought over from Camp Dewey and placed in position on the left. Men from both lines were engaged in erecting gun pits all along the front. The guns were located about 1000 yards from Fort San Antonio de Abad, which formed the extreme right of the Spanish line. The enemy's left and center was protected by a line of intrenchments. Outpost duty was being performed by a company of the Eighteenth United States Infantry. The firing, which had been kept up with more or less vigor, came from the right of the Utah position, which was entirely unprotected owing to a failure on the part of the insurgents to maintain their lines between Calle Real and the Pasig road.

During the night of July 30th-31st the excitement began. Heavy small arm firing was indulged in by the enemy and from his lines came shells at irregular intervals, none of which did any damage. At this time Lieutenant Naylor was in the trenches with the two guns of Battery A. At 8 o'clock next morning Lieutenant Gibbs relieved him of the command with two-gun detachments of fresh men. All day everything was quiet. The enemy was planning a night attack, as he had no desire to mix with the American forces in a fair open fight in the broad light of day, but rather trusted to darkness to accomplish his designs. Everything was quiet until 11:30 that evening, when the Mausers began singing venomously from the Spanish lines. Then came the boom of his artillery and the men in the trenches knew that the time for action had come. The Tenth Pennsylvania troops replied with their Springfields and the whiz of the "45's" mingled with the keen "twang" of the Mausers, while the Third Artillerymen, equipped as regular infantry, took a part in the altercation. The instructions of the Utah men were not to fire until it was evident the enemy was making an advance. The cannoneers stood by their guns awaiting the orders which should make them a part of the fight. Finally it came. Major Cuthberton of the First California, the senior officer present, gave the word and then Utah's voice was heard for the first time during the war. The gunners worked like Trojans and with shrapnel punched at zero they sent shell after shell into the Castilian lines. Corporal Charles Varian, with no clothing on save a pair of trousers, sweating like a man who was working for his life, yet cool withal, managed his piece like a veteran. Sergeant J.O. Nystrom gave orders in a collected way that instilled fresh courage into the hearts of his men. W.W. Riter wore a seraphic smile as he sighted his gun at the spits of flame on the other side, while Billy Kneass worked his cannon with the sang froid of a man in a blind waiting for ducks. It was a warm time and when morning dawned it was ascertained that several Castilian voices had been added to Choral Society in that land beyond the river. Utah's men were standing