"Patrols should always sleep in a place from which
they can inflict injury on a party attempting
to surprise them . . ."
--Constabulary Manual

SAMAR was a place of evil reputation.

The army remembered it for the massacre of Company C of the 9th United States Infantry at Balangiga. The Scouts were to remember it for the slaughter of Lieutenant Hayt and his entire detachment of forty-seven men. The Constabulary would write Samar into their records as the arena that would send many men with red epaulets to their deaths. The army had written a song about Samar, to commemorate that dark and bloody island: "There's many a man been murdered in Samar."

We have seen the army preceding the Scouts arid Constabulary into Samar, to conduct a series of very severe operations under the command of General Jacob Smith. This General had acquired an unfavorable notoriety because of his famous orders "to kill everyone capable of bearing arms and to leave Samar a howling wilderness." When he had been pressed for an additional interpretation of the order, the General had established the arms-bearing age as "everyone over the age of ten."

This campaign of the regular army had resulted in the court-martial of General Smith, but not before the regulars had finished a bloody operation that ranks as the most ferocious performance of the army in the Philippines. Samar had been left a howling wilderness, but not precisely in the manner that General Smith had intended . The army had eliminated certain bands of organized insurgents but the religious bandits were unscotched, and the hand of civilization rested lightly indeed upon the island of Samar.

If one turns to the map of the Philippine Archipelago, Samar can be seen there: a great thick bulk of jungle island almost touching the jutting peninsula of southern Luzon. The interior of the island is a place of high mountains, with sheer ravines and swift, rushing rivers. In the rainy season, the floods--the dreaded avenidas--pile the water high in the gorges and sweep everything from their path. Not an inconsiderable cause of army and Constabulary casualties was the loss, by drowning, of men who had been swept away in the avenidas.

Interior Samar was a place of great snakes and malaria mosquitos and sludgy, oozing swamps on the fringes of the forested mountains. Here and there were the abandoned caingins--the clearings of the mountain tribes, grown high with lush cogon grass and tigbao. It was a place calculated to try the stamina of the fighting men who forced the bush of the interior.

The island has an area in excess of 5,000 square miles, and at the time of which we write, there were not five miles of road on the island.

The army maintained several stations on Samar, but the troopers were inactive and confined to station by the orders of the administration, who were still trying to avoid the necessity for martial law and the massed movements of regular troops.

On July 1, 1904, the military forces of the United States in garrison on Samar consisted of one regimental post at Calbayog and a company of Scouts on the north coast at Laoang. The Constabulary were in the district with 32 men on the north coast at Catarman under Lieutenant Bowers; 78 men on the east coast at Borongan under Lieutenants Poggi and Abenis (Poggi was temporarily on station in Mindanao on detached service); 10 men on the west coast at Calbiga under Lieutenant Sulse; 80 men at Catbalogan under Captain Hunt, with Lieutenants Jeancon, Burbank, and Martin, and 39 men on the south coast at Balangiga under Lieutenants Smith and Farrow. In addition to this force, Company A of the Manila unit was on field service under the command of Captain Cary Crockett.

At this time (1904) the real force of the pulajan movement had not been realized by the administration in Manila. Although the jungle was swarming with these fanatics, the reports of their activity are very brief. An official report dismisses the Pulajan trouble on Samar with this brief remark: "The pulajan band of Pedro de la Cruz, with nine rifles and usually about sixteen men, is the only band of importance on the island. A pulajan leader by the name of Anugar also circulates in the Gandara Valley." Actually, could the administration have known, there were on Samar several thousand armed pulajans who were consolidating and organizing deep in the mountains of the interior.

In the fall of 1902, after the surrender of the insurgents on the island to the military authorities, Anugar and other less important leaders had addressed communications to people formerly identified with the insurgent movement, calling upon them to come to the mountains and continue the fight against America. They stated that they had not surrendered to the United States and never would, and that the mountains of Samar held thousands who were ready to begin fighting at any time under the leadership of the "Popes."

As time went on, the influence of these agitators among the mountain people began to be noticeable, and isolated Constabulary officers on patrol duty began to make reports to the Philippine Commission which were for the great part ignored. As these reports filtered into headquarters, the only change instituted on the island was the establishment of another Constabulary post at Bulao, and a post of Scouts at Gandara.

In February, 1904, Pedro de la Cruz made an appearance near Borongan, and Lieutenant McCrea, while scouting with a patrol of seven men, was defeated and killed by the outlaw chief. A few days later, a detachment of Scouts recovered the bodies and fought an indecisive engagement with the same band. The rifles were not recovered.

This affair served to direct attention to the pulajan movement, but the impetus of the fanatical organization was still improperly gauged. De la Cruz had been apparently only trying his strength, for he retired again to the hills and was not heard from for some weeks. Small Constabulary detachments operated freely in the country without molestation.

The real trouble broke early in July, 1904, with an attack by the pulajans upon isolated barrios of the upper Gandara River country. Villages were burned and the civilian population subjected to horrible atrocities. A force of Constabulary was sent up the river to quell the disorder, and a grievous mistake was made by the officer in command in detaching twenty men, under a Sergeant, for station in the infected region.

This detachment was attacked and driven down the river with a loss of eight rifles.

The defeat of this Constabulary section was the flame that touched off the rebellion. The headwaters of the Gandara became the scene of very severe fighting, as detachment after detachment sought vainly to restore order.

On August 15, 1904, General Allen ordered Captain Cary Crockett, with a company, to take station at San Pelayo and to conduct operations against the pulajans in the upper reaches of the Gandara.

Meanwhile, the pulajans had burned the town of Bulao.

Bulao stood high on a bluff on the left bank of the Bongahon River. On all sides of this village was a magnificent view--of jungle. The Bulao country was swarming with red-shirted pulajans, whose rifles commanded that river Rowing away into the jungle beneath them.

The Bongahon River was the scene of great activity on the morning of the twenty-first of August, 1904. On its reaches, two Constabulary detachments were operating independently of each other. The first of these was a detachment of Samar Constabulary who had been on patrol. While on this patrol, they had gathered thirty women and children of the pulajans and were evacuating them to Tarangnan.

Bowers dispatched these women and children down the river with thirteen Constabulary soldiers, under the command of a Sergeant. In small barrotas, which are narrow and easily overturned dugout canoes, the little detachment was gliding along the river. As they turned a curve below Bulao, the party encountered a band of pulajans who were swimming the river. The detail opened fire.

On the north bank, a figure rose from the brush and called to the women in the canoes, "Upset the barrotas and escape." Before the Constabulary detail could make a move, the women and children had obeyed the command of the pulajan chief. The canoes tipped as they rose to their feet and in a moment the Constabulary was struggling in the water, weighted down with rifle and cartridge belt and canteen. The women and children streamed away to the river banks.

The bush became alive with pulajans. On the north bank, the force of "Major" Antonio Anugar with twenty-five riflemen and a large force of bolomen, rose from the shelter of the jungle. On the south bank, a mob of bolomen massed to follow the overturned boats that drifted with the current.

It was a hopeless battle. These riflemen on the shore were marksmen, and they were concealed by jungle. Seven of the police detail were shot through the head and the river claimed them. An eighth, shot through the body, sank with his rifle in the deepest part of the river.

The five survivors, attempting to make the best of a bad situation, turned away from the deadly fire and swam for the south coast, where the bolomen massed with shrill cries of "Tad-Tad." Three of the five survivors lost their rifles in the scramble to the shore. Second-class Private Delao reached the shore and saw the pulajan "Captain "Lucas seize a barrota and go in pursuit of fifteen helpless cargadores who had been conducting the baggage of the Constabulary. Delao leaped into another barrota and went in pursuit of Lucas. He killed the pulajan Captain, saving the lives of five of the porters. He was too late to save ten men who were butchered in cold blood by Lucas.

And then Delao returned to the shore, in the face of those armed fanatics. He scrambled up the beach on hands and knees, and in doing so lost his rifle. Private Valentine Buna, the only armed member of the little squad, formed his four mates into a compact spearhead. One rifleman and four privates armed with bolos fought their way through a mass of fanatics and gained the safety of the bush.

Meanwhile, Captain Crockett, with sixteen men of Company A of the Manila Constabulary, was en route to his temporary station at San Pelayo. He was following the besieged soldiers of Bowers' detail down the river. He had stopped at Bulao to investigate the ruins of the burned town and was a half mile above the conflict that was raging below him.

Hearing the sound of rifle fire, he hastened in that direction, and landing at a bend above the scene of the ambush he circled through the tall grass and came upon the outlaws as they were disposing of their loot. Forming his men kneeling in the grass, he fired one volley into the pulajans at a range of thirty yards. The outlaws wheeled and Anugar's pulajans were quick to estimate the strength of this slender force. They replied with a fire that wounded five of Crockett's men.

Then the cry of "Tad-Tad" sounded and Constabulary and pulajans charged at the same instant, to bring the conflict to close quarters in the tall grass. The force that Captain Crockett opposed was in excess of 300 men!

Crockett's uniform made him a special target for the pulajan fire. He was singled out by "Captain" Francisco Banaldie, who slithered across the grass, slashing and hacking with his huge talibong. Crockett emptied his revolver at close range, but Banaldie came on without faltering. For a moment he towered over the crouching Constabulary Captain, bringing down the bolo blade with sweeping, crunching blows. Crockett went down, slashed across the chest and shoulders, and Banaldie, with a last quiver of movement, fell dead across him.

Dead men piled about the prostrate Captain in the center of that fierce dogfight. The bodies of the slain protected him from the blows of the living. The men of the company swarmed above their fallen leader, rallying back to back, to beat off the pulajans and extricate their badly wounded Captain.

This fight was one of the bloodiest waged by the Constabulary in the entire existence of the corps. The battle was an epic combat against odds. The sixteen men of Crockett's company gave positive evidence that day of the state of efficiency that had been attained by the Constabulary. The official reports of this engagement give the pulajan dead as forty. Actually, more than eighty outlaws were eliminated at Bulao, by sixteen Constabulary soldiers at close quarters.

Among the rifles captured by Crockett were four Krags that had been lost by Company C of the 9th Infantry during that dreadful massacre at Balangiga.

Captain Crockett and Privates Bravo, Fortunato, Figuroa, and Delao were awarded the Medal of Valor on September 14, 1904.

Pedro de la Cruz had suffered a severe loss in this defeat of Anugar's force by Crockett at Bulao, but he was back on the scene immediately. On September 7 he led a force of 300 pulajans against Lieutenant Clearman of the 39th Scouts, and was hurled back with a loss of 74 killed.

A year later Lieutenants George A. Helfert and Juan Sulse were able to entrap Antonio Anugar and kill him with most of his men.

As one recalls the campaigns of this period of pulajan warfare, one seemingly unexplainable point stands out to require explanation, that being the heavy casualties the pulajans suffered in defeat or in victory. Had it been the pulajans rather than Constabulary who were the victims of the ambush, it could be readily understood. We would be able to understand these heavy losses more readily if the facts indicated that the pulajans had gone against enfilading machine-gun fire or against the fire concentration of a large number of men armed with repeating rifles.

Neither was the case. The pulajans were always numerically superior, and they were better armed than the Constabulary. The answer, therefore, is to be found elsewhere: it is to be found in an understanding of three essential facts.

The first of these concerns discipline in action. The pulajans were a wild, disorganized mob and their power was largely dispelled before they could close within striking distance of the small, coolly deliberate Constabulary detail.

The second consideration was one of marksmanship. The pulajans were inefficient and inaccurate with their superior rifles. Even a Spanish Mauser, or a Krag, loses authority in improper hands. There were among the hillmen a few good shots; some of them were dead shots. The ambush at Bulao proved that. But the great majority knew only the front sight of a rifle. They pointed the weapon in the direction of their quarry, laid the front sight on the target, and pulled trigger. Almost always their fire was high. The Constabulary shot slowly--and made that slow fire count heavily. It required iron nerves in the face of a bolo rush, where every private knew he was faced with the necessity of dropping four or five pulajans before they could get within reaching distance with their great blades.

But the most apparent reason for the huge losses of the pulajans in battle were the tactics of these religious fanatics. There can be no question of their bravery; and there can be no question of their lack of military judgment. They advanced in massed formation; shoulder to shoulder. They paid small attention to the fundamentals of favorable position, conservation of man-power, or the possibilities of defeat. Worked to a frenzy by unscrupulous leaders who stood aside to watch them die, the pulajans believed in the potency of their anting-antings against bullets, even as they watched their companions collapse under the accurate fire of the Constabulary.

The pulajans sought immediate hand-to-hand conflict with the weapon they understood so thoroughly. That was the horn-handled bolo that was called talibong, with crescent shape and edge of razor keenness. When they rushed, it was the responsibility of every Constabulary soldier to support his comrade in the face of that wild attack. The slaughter of Hayt's Scouts and the infantry at Balangiga had proven that fact beyond doubt. When the odds were overwhelming, ten men against two hundred, as was so often the case, the Constabulary were annihilated. Even their accurate rifle fire could not save them then. But even in victory the pulajans ringed the dying Constabulary with the bodies of pulajan dead.

Apparently the pulajans, as did the Moros, sought death in battle. Certainly they did not fear death.

We see them then, a great horde of red-shirted religious fanatics, revolving their bolos in great shining circles; leaping, bounding, hacking; contemptuous of death and possessed with one desire--to come to grips with their enemy. As a man fell, he was replaced by another. Conflict against them was chilling and grim with the threat of death. Required for success were the essentials of discipline and long-sustained expert marksmanship under great pressure. These, the Constabulary developed.

While these fierce struggles for the mastery of Samar had been in progress, the administration was still wavering over a decision in regard to the armament of the Constabulary. The Army was discarding the Krag now in favor of the modern Springfield .30-06. Constabulary officials began an immediate campaign to secure the cast-off rifles for their service.

Although the old Springfields had worn out under the constant usage, nothing was done about re-arming the corps at this time. The records of the various companies show a diversity of arms, ranging from Mauser and Krag rifles to smoothbore Tower muskets and outmoded Remington shotguns. Still unsupplied officially with fighting tools, the Constabulary went about the business of capturing their rifles. A goodly number of Krags had found their way into the corps, all taken from pulajans after unequal combat in the jungle.

The quartermaster and commissary departments had improved, but the troops were still wearing the blue shirts of insurgent days, and no satisfactory transport service existed. The Constabulary at this time had acquired a few launches, but they were inadequate to handle the supplies for 7,000 men. In the more isolated stations the men suffered from a scarcity of essential supplies.

The transport division had 780 mules, 172 wagons, and 65 small launches. With men on station at 288 widely separated posts scattered across a thousand miles, this equipment was completely inadequate.

The records of 10,04 show the men wearing khaki uniforms supplied at a cost of 64 cents each. There were complaints that the uniforms were inferior (as well they might be, at that price). There was agitation in Manila for a uniform of superior English khaki.

But the morale of the organization was very high, as they went about their work with an almost complete lack of publicity in the United States.

The year 1904 began to draw to a close. Then, on November 10, the pulajans achieved a great success near Oras. Here a red-shirted detachment swept down from the mountains and overwhelmed the Scout garrison of the town. Thirteen Scouts were killed and their rifles were carried away. This situation was made serious and truly alarming by other massacres of Scouts which now came to the attention of the Philippine Commission.

If one follows the east coast line of the island of Samar, north to the pueblo of Borongan, he will come to a country as productive as the valley of the Nile River, as mountainous as Colorado, and as wild as Africa. It is the home of the Bisayan deities, "Dia Laon" and "Sed Apa" (in whose names many an innocent life has been sacrificed), and it is one of the bloodiest battlefields in the world.

From the top of the Mesa de Palapag, in northeast Samar, the River Gumay takes its rise, wandering southeast until it tumbles into the Bay of San Ramon. A mile or more from its source it becomes navigable for small boats: A trail from the Catubig River runs along the ridge of the Tatangbang mountain range, the eastern watershed, and a river in some places sixty feet wide parallels it and flows westwardly through a deep gorge. This river has its source on the western slope of the Mesa de Palapag. The Gumay River flows through a valley formed by Mt. Boboyson and the Gumay mountain range, which runs southwestward from the Mesa de Palapag, including Mt. Tabogue. On its southwestern slope on the beach of the China Sea is the barrio of San Ramon on the Bay Espiritu Santo. It is reached by a dim path through the thick woods, over slippery ridges, disappearing in the mud of puddles of brackish water in the hollows, and at times into the water courses, then up ladderlike benches onto a flat ridge of sandstone. Here sides of canyons are carved and fretted beyond description, beautiful to the eye but difficult for the combat-laden soldier.

The Cove de Espiritu Santo with San Ramon snuggled at its head is rock-bound, repellent, and difficult of entry, which is possible only during mild weather. White calcareous rocks hard as marble, polished as high as the waves reach at high tide, form precipitous cliffs that project into the sea in a succession of spire-like rocks a hundred feet in height. A peculiar atmosphere of enchantment pervades this locality, whose influence upon the native mariner must be all the more powerful when, fortunately escaping from billows outside and the buffeting of the northeast wind, he suddenly enters this tranquil landlocked place of refuge. No wonder that superstitious imagination has peopled this place with spirits--El Espiritu Santo.

It was the twelfth of December, 1904, and Lieutenant Hendryx, at sea off Espiritu Santo, was proceeding to San Ramon to establish a fighting base. The tragedy of Balangiga was fresh in the minds of his men, as was that earlier massacre at Catubig. The Catubig massacre had preceded the Balangiga atrocity by a year. It had been equally as savage, and twenty-one men out of a detachment of thirty-one men lost their lives, with nearly all the remainder wounded. Three days under the burning sun and through the chilly nights they had fought off the foe, hopelessly, heroically, and without food. Samar owed the government for the lives of these regulars.

With Hendryx aboard the Masbate that evening were 198 veteran soldiers selected for their proven worth. The four officers accompanying this command were veterans with numerous victories to their credit, and years of service. Each man was armed with carbine, revolver, bolo, waist-belt, and bandelero, thereby doubling the amount of ammunition carried.

The China Sea, north and south, is very narrow and filled with sand dunes, islands both large and small, swift currents and cross ones, reefs, and deep shallow water, requiring an exact knowledge of his whereabouts by the navigator at all times. Due to the graft of the Spanish Government in mak ing up their maps for use of the Marine, all, or nearly all, were faulty. They had been drawn, it is said, by Spanish Marine officers who sat in Manila and fabricated them without soundings or proper measurements.

The barometer fell steadily, the heat was clammy, the air thick. The Masbate furrowed her way in an unmerciful downpour of rain.

Then came a terrific impact, a grinding, crushing tumult. Tons of water fell across the deck and jammed the doors to staterooms. The metallic ring of the laboring engines and the hammering of the waterpumps ceased. There was the sound of a great volume of escaping steam, a smell of hot oil and sulphur fumes, and the engine crew was badly burned by live steam while ascending the hatch.

Portside lifeboats and all but one on the starboard side were disabled. Water on the lower deck ran knee-deep, and waves broke over the upper deck where the command slept. Orders issued that not a man should leave his position were followed, without a single exception, and there was no excitement. The remaining boat on the starboard side was swung in on deck and transferred to the portside--to accomplish this it was necessary to cut away an iron ventilator with axes. The main steam line was severed and the engines disabled. Tons of water rushed from stem to stern. All lights were extinguished. The solid force of the impact lifted the ship out of the water and slammed her down onto a coral reef. The wheelhouse clock registered 5:15 A. M., and they were saddled on a coral reef at the entrance to the Bay of San Ramon, Espiritu Santo, northeast Samar, five miles from the mainland.

With a single lifeline in tow, the First Mate, Tornroth, swimming landward, notified them by pre-arranged signals that he had located a sand dune. A small land-anchor was made fast on the sand dune and the hawser made taut to the bow of the ship. In single file, with guns and belts, but without shoes and leggings, the men slid down the hawser and landed on the dune in water up to their necks. In the course of an hour this very difficult task was accomplished.

With sails rigged on the single lifeboat, the entire force was laboriously transferred, against an outblowing wind, to the mainland five miles across the bay, in command of Lieutenant George S. Holmes. Rapid-fire guns on the Masbate were dismantled, and with all ammunition were taken ashore and used in the temporary defense that was hurriedly built.

Lieutenant Hendryx' orders had been to disembark at San Ramon, hike south, cross the Oras River, and proceed cautiously to the River Dolores. There he was expected to encounter an overwhelming force of pulajans, armed completely by the two full stacks of arms captured when Company C, 9th United States Infantry, was massacred at Balangiga. He was to make junction with the 37th Company of Scouts who were scouting from the interior along the Dolores River toward the sea, and with the 38th Company of Scouts scouting from the south with the same objective in view.

But Hendryx was not to contact his old 38th Scout Company in this world. As he was disembarking his men in the typhoon that had wrecked the Masbate, Lieutenant Hayt was patrolling a jungle fringe not far distant at Dolores. The 38th Scouts encountered 1,000 pulajans who attacked on the rear and flanks, and Hayt and all of his company were destroyed. One sergeant only escaped, bearing fearful bolo wounds.

The Scouts went down, ringed with the bodies of the attacking force, for 300 pulajans died in that jungle engagement. In that bloody forest the force of Pedro de la Cruz came into possession of forty-seven repeating Krags and a great quantity of ammunition.

Two weeks later, Lieutenant Morton Avery of the 37th Scouts was trapped in the swamps near Oras. pulajans circled the company with steel, and Avery and all of his men save two were killed.

Lieutenant Hendryx found only a silent beach, littered with chopped bodies of men who were to have been his support.

It was disaster that began to awaken the Philippine Commission to the fact that a serious military situation did exist in Samar. They were still unwilling to call in the regular army to assist the embattled Scouts and Constabulary. After a conference, they decided to unify the operations of Scouts and Insular Police.

It will be recalled that sometime preceding this period, certain Scout companies had been placed under the command of the Chief of Constabulary. These forces had since been recalled to the Federal service and were no longer available to the Constabulary. Therefore, Samar in 1904 was garrisoned with a mixed force of Scouts and Constabulary, the former being Federal and the latter Insular, and neither able to command the other. It was determined not to renew the process of placing Scouts under Constabulary command. The Commission decided to detail an officer of the regular army to command the joint forces of native infantry. The choice of the Commission for this command was an unfortunate one.

We leave this officer in his undeserved anonymity with the statement that he never once took the field against the pulajans, but remained on a coast guard cutter, bawling instructions to his men in the bush through a megaphone. As the "Major with the Megaphone" he remains today to all of the fighting men who eventually conquered Samar.

To continue with conditions in Samar: this officer with the megaphone knew that the Government was very desirous of making light of the pulajan activity in Samar. War correspondents were buzzing in Manila, eager to convey to the people of the United States the real nature of affairs in the Philippines. The Megaphone Major was therefore displeased, when he took command, to hear reports of Constabulary officers that pulajanism was spreading with the rapidity of a forest fire. We have a record of his remarks when he was informed of conditions in the bush. "Why, there are only a few bolomen hiding in those hills," he said, "Lieutenant .... must be getting cold-footed. He should ask for transfer to a cooler district." This about a man whose valor was unquestioned, and who had been in the interior of Samar on intensive campaign.

Under the Major, operations were conducted with a joint Scout-Constabulary force in a manner that was disgusting to the hardened campaigners who had faced many a bolo rush. The puttering ineffectuality of the commander resulted in a series of disasters to American forces, and a great deal of hardship and unnecessary loss of life. The pulajans were encouraged to new activity and the good work of months was thrown away.

A word must be said at this time in explanation of the complete inactivity of the Army. We had available in Samar a very efficient force of regular troops who were equipped and ready to fight. Large bodies of beautifully armed and disciplined troops were compelled to stand idly in barracks and watch the struggle the Scouts and Constabulary were waging against pulajans.

The Army acts upon the orders of the administration, and that body was unwilling to admit the presence of an emergency upon the island of Samar in 1904. The commanders of the regular regiments were goaded almost beyond the limits of their endurance at the spectacle of promiscuous raiding within the limits of their authority. pulajans murdered and burned, almost within sight of the army barracks. In Leyte, near Camp Bumpus, the pulajans killed men, women and children within a few miles of the 18th Infantry.

The pulajans burned fifty-three towns in Samar within a period of less than two months, among them Silonga, which was hardly more than a walk of an hour from the seat of the provincial government at Catbalogan. Lieutenant Bowers of the Constabulary conducted an investigation over this burned region, and estimated that between July, 1904 and September, 1905, fifty thousand persons had been left homeless in the Gandara Valley.

In a report to the Commission in Manila, Governor Feito of Samar sent frantic appeals for protection. There was no let-up and no relief for the Constabulary soldiers who conducted those dreadful patrols in Samar in 1904. Men went into the bush for a sustained period of service that lengthened sometimes into months of constant battle. They came out gaunt, starved caricatures of men.

But individual heroism was not enough in Samar. Conditions were getting out of hand; there were not sufficient policemen to serve the God of Battles properly. The "Popes" were growing steadily in influence, and new leaders were coming into prominence.

As conditions grew more serious, General Allen came in person to Samar on December 15, 1904, to assume direct command of all Constabulary operations on the island.

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Original publication © 1938 E. P. Dutton & Co., Inc.

Filipiniana Reprint Series © 1985 Cacho Hermanos, Inc.

This publication (HTML format & original artwork) © 2001 Bakbakan International.

Transcription courtesy of Ashley Bass.