Apache Campaigns - Fort Huachuca - U.S. Army

separated my men from the Indians in the camp at the trail head.
“I’m going into the camp,” I told Sieber.
“No! Don’t you do it, Lieutenant! Don’t you do it!” he objected, much to my surprise.
“There’s lots of Indians over there and they’ll get you, sure!”
“Why, Al!” I said. “You’ve killed every one of them!”
Then I instructed my line to load their guns, take some cartridges in their hands, and
advance at the run into camp. We charged the little arroyo and topped out on the other side,
covered by heavy fire from Sieber and the men with Captain Kramer. We had made those
yards without casualty but when we got into the open beyond the arroyo I discovered that
Sieber had been right. There were lots of Indians there in camp, and we had plenty of
business on our hands!
But with me were Sergeants Horan and Martin and seven or eight other old-timers.
They were not worried in the least by a hot fight, and we were going slap-bang when a hostile
appeared not two yards away, leveling his gun directly at me. It seemed impossible for him to
miss at that point-blank range, so I raised my own gun and stiffened to take the shock of his
bullet. But he was nervous and jerked just enough as he pulled trigger to sent the bullet past
me. A young Scotchman named McLellan was just to my left and slightly in the rear. The
bullet hit him, and he dropped. I shot the Indian and threw myself to the ground—which
caused Captain Kramer and Sieber to believe that I had been struck. McLellan was sprawling
beside me and I asked if he were hurt.
“Yes, sir,” he answered. “Through the arm. I think it’s broken.”
“Lie quietly for a little while,” I said, “then we’ll get back to that ravine.”
“I got in a shot or two, then Blacksmith Martin came to my assistance and we succeeded
in getting McClellan out of the way of the Indians. In the meantime they had apparently
sprung up on three or four sides of us, and things were very lively in that vicinity for the
next five or ten minutes.” 97
The firing slackened, and I got up. McLellan was unconscious, and I had to drag him
back about twenty feet to where the slope was some protection. When I stood to help
McLellan some of the hostiles who were hidden from the Abbot line beyond got up from their
cover to shoot at me. But Abbot’s men saw them and turned loose. They did not realize that
I was in their direct line of fire, two hundred yards away. The air around McLellan and me
was fairly burned with bullets. I was facing the line, and bits of gravel and shreds of bullets
stung my face and set it bleeding. I was certain that I had been hit and it was only a matter of
moments until I would collapse.
But when I had rested a minute or so I got McLellan farther and Sergeant Horan joined
me. We managed to lower McLellan to the bottom of the little arroyo as Kramer’s men
swarmed into the camp and overran it. I found one of the Indian blankets and made McLellan
comfortable, but the bullet had broken a rib and passed through both lungs. He died quietly
within an hour.
Darkness came, and the fighting stopped. We found Lieutenant Morgan in great pain
from his wound and suffering a chill in the thin air of that height. When he had been made
comfortable and patrols sent out, we waited for Chaffee and Dr. Ewing, who were being
guided across the canon to us.
Abbot had sent his several badly wounded men over before dark, but ours were not so
fortunate. When Chaffee arrived he ordered withdrawal of all but the outposts. We were to
A MAGAZINE OF THE FORT HUACHUCA MUSEUM
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