The Village

Ohio Village

Columbus, OH

May 25-26, 2013

Having been raised in Columbus, I spent many a time at the Village and Historical Society building.  As the destination of school field trips and a museum for a quiet afternoon, I have visited every exhibit.  I have been to the Ohio Village on numerous occasions, always in a period environment.  Never had I seen anything more than a horse or people walking its streets.  So, when I rolled my car down its main street Friday evening to get to the Confederate Camp, looking around at all the period buildings, I thought, “This is different.”

Confederate camp was located in a bowl next to the Historical Society building.  Having inspected Company Q all week, and since my home was close, I chose to spend the night at home, departing after meeting with the federal officers that evening for the overall battle plans, returning in the morning in time for the officer’s meeting.

That weekend I determined that restroom facilities were woefully inadequate.  Not having been released from my duties of inspection of Company Q, I determined the location of every facility on the grounds, including one in the village square, one in the hotel, the porta-johns on the south-side of the village, the two on the first floor of the building, one in the auditorium, and one on the second floor of the building.   I personally inspected every facility in the building, finding the one in the auditorium to be the best, having the most modern treatments, though the one located across the lobby from the exit to the village offered a lock to give complete privacy.  Although, I felt sorry for the pair of boys who needed the facility after my inspection had completed.

Yes, my inspection of Company Q has not been pleasant.

But anyway, the overall weekend was spectacular.  It was our goal to set a new standard.  We decided that our intent would be to tell a story, and not just put on a show.  So, for Saturday, the Federals started in possession of the town.  We were to fight our way into the town and push the Federals out.  Sunday would be the reverse.

Capt Sharp was overall Confederate commander, and with three companies, we needed to form as a battalion, so the Provisional Copperhead Battalion was formed for the weekend.  Capt Sharp (brevetted to Colonel), asked for me to serve as his adjutant, with Major Gary Evens on staff.  Present were the 4th Kentucky, 5th Kentucky, and 1st Tennessee.

It was an interesting time, to say the least.  I prepared Bvt Col Sharp ahead of time with the list of tasks for morning parade, to which he felt overwhelmed  until I pointed out to him that his only job was to look pretty.  During parade, it’s the adjutant that has all the work—the commander just nods approvingly.

We were ready for battle.  The Saturday afternoon battle started with the Federals in charge of the village.  The 4th Kentucky, under Major Evens, began the assault in skirmish lines.

Bvt Col Sharp led the 1st Tennessee, while I led the 5th Kentucky into the battle.  As we pushed into the buildings, the 5th KY started down a center gap between two buildings—but I saw a federal unit (the 76th OVI) slip into a gap on the other side of a building, getting ready to flank us.  Quickly ordering a change of fronts, Capt Steiner got his men lined up and firing on the federals just as they came out of the gap.  But we were too close.  I ordered another maneuver to flank the Yankees and push them back into the gap.

We tried to follow them into the street, but were pinned in the gap between buildings.  I remembered something we did at Guyandotte, where we took the long way around a building to sneak up behind a Federal unit, and suggested this to Capt Steiner.  We began trekking around, but I think Bvt Col Sharp was concerned about being left opened, so stopped us before we could complete the maneuver.  We ended up taking the occasional pot-shot until we were no longer pinned in that gap.

I found out later that had we taken that move, it may have been more aggressive than the Federals could have handle, and ended the battle in a hurry.

Once we took the town, Bvt Col Sharp had members of the 1st Tennessee deployed as pickets.  However, we he noticed they were being deployed without bayonets, he had me go around to get their bayonets fixed.  Being that we were now full in a scenario in front of the public, I hammed up the role playing first person battalion officer barking at the privates who were improperly doing picket duty.  I hope I didn’t upset any of them—I was just filling a role.  The last pickets I reached were ready—they had their bayonets fixed.  I found out, though, Sgt Kletzli started racing around to let the pickets know to get their bayonets on or I’d be screaming at them.  But what does that matter?  As far as a superior officer knows, duty is either being performed or it is not.

A “resurrection” was never performed, as is usual for reenactment battles.  Instead, the dead and wounded became part of the scenario.  The proportion of dead and wounded to soldiers was researched and matched.  Wounded were brought to a doctor’s station, while the dead were piled together (though, fortunately, not on top of each other).

The evening provided a healthy supper.  The frozen fruit salad appealed to my rather argumentative intestines.

For the Sunday battle, we started with possession of the village.  Pickets were placed, each company providing a shift.  The 4th Kentucky took last shift, to be in position for the start of the battle.

The Federals pushed us pretty hard, forcing us to retreat through the town back to the fields.  At one point, Capt Steiner took a hit, and the 5th begged not to leave him behind, so I sent one volunteer to rescue him.  When I saw the Federals start to roll out an artillery piece and that we were starting to get left behind by the rest of the battalion, I realized I should have sent two volunteers.  I rushed out to help carry Capt Steiner to shade.  When I got back to our line, we were in trouble.  The men were waiting—not knowing what to do—but in a position to be obliterated if that cannon fired.  I ordered an immediate about-face and double-quick to get us back with the rest of the battalion.

Courtesy Columbus Dispatch

We made a final assault in echelon, marching ten paces behind the 1st Tennessee, with the 4th Kentucky ten paces behind us.  It was not long before things started falling apart.  I lost the 1st sergeant, and after that I could not keep the unit marching straight, having to point with my sword through the center files which direction “forward” was.  It had certainly become chaos at that point.  By this time, the 1st Tennessee was in retreat, and the 4th Kentucky was gone from a canister blast.  Time to go home.  I ordered us to fall back.

Despite my painful inspections of Company Q, this was one of the more memorable events for me.  I look forward to a return next year, and hopefully, Company Q will not be in attendance.

Columbus Dispatch article

The Rebel Invasion

May 18-29, 2013

Conner Prairie, Fishers, IN

We are a band of brothers

I hadn’t been to Conner Prairie since 2006, long before I started getting serious into this hobby.  The 1st Tennessee had a bad experience there a few years back—the same year I started getting heavy into this hobby—and haven’t been back since.  This weekend they chose to attend Sharon Woods, in Sharonville, but the Independent Guard went to Conner Prairie so my duties as major called me Indiana, especially with Gettysburg coming up, and I needing to be involved in the drills.

Native to the soil

The weekend started simple enough—I arrived early and set my tent next to the colonel’s, then dug the fire pit.  I loaded us up with firewood, which was pretty easy considering the wood pile was about ten paces from the pit.  A quick run to porcelain and I could see the sutlers a short hop away, so remembered my need to buy an extra set of stars for my brevet promotion for Gettysburg.  Absolutely everything was close.  Even the battlefield was close—you could practically give a swift kick to a nearby cannon and watch it roll down the hill right onto the battlefield.

There was just one little caveat—apparently the Yankees were playing at some sort of game.  They set up pickets to their camp, and all Confederates were prohibited entry.  You might think this would make sense—after all, we’re supposed to portray enemies—but this was to continue even through the night, after the public had gone home.  Even then, the occasional event where this occurs is okay—but where I’ve seen this, there is always a way around it.

Nationals make sense for this—such events are too big and where the reenactor out too much—you aren’t even interested in entering the camp of the other side.  But although Perryville played this game, they offered an out—they could enter camp with an escort.

Conner Prairie had numbers of about one hundred per side—not exactly a large event.  Often we have friends on the other side we’d like to visit with.  The 4th Ohio Company B, for example—my original company when I first started Civil War reenacting—was there.  But there was more there—the Yankee Camp was in a small period village, an exhibit called “The Civil War Journey”, and many of the Confederate soldiers had a desire to visit this exhibit.  So, the “out” we agreed upon with the Yankee commander—where Confederates could enter exhibit—was that they had to remove their coats, and women could have no confederate pins.

Fighting for our liberty with treasure blood and toil

We understood that for the public they wanted to follow this impression.  And when the public went home, the exhibit was closed.  We agreed to the removal of coats and no pins and pass the word on to the individual companies, thinking all would be well.  Of course, we as Confederates have no such restrictions.  The issue was put to rest, thinking that all was well.

But it appears that the Yankee commander must think there is a Confederate spy behind every tree.

Anyway, the Saturday battle went well—we were supposed to lose, so we pushed on the field, and then let the Yankees push us off.  I saw the 4th Ohio push aggressively, so I though about sending last company, on my wing, out to flank them to stop their advance—but alas!  They only had three survivors.  That plan was not going to work.

After that rather extraordinary feast the park supplied, I joined the Lt Colonel and the 50th Virginia for a round of cards they called “Screw your Neighbor”.  It was not something I had heard before, and as they described it, it was a rather strange game.  The best way to describe it is that it was like Uno, with a normal deck of cards, and a small, but very strange, twist.  Needless to say, I began to understand the appeal as the night wore on and a couple of them had a few shares of whiskey.  Still, it wasn’t Euchre.  But, in a pinch, it’ll do.

Sunday morning drill provided a good experience as to what we could expect for Gettysburg, as the Lt Colonel took command for drill, and I filled the Lt Colonel position.  It was a very good experience, and I learned a bit of what to expect—and how I can work with the Lt Colonel to make Gettysburg the best experience for everyone.  I am more anxious than ever for Gettysburg.

We also learned of the treatment our soldier got attempting to visit that Civil War Journey exhibit.  One report we got was that our soldier refused to remove his coat—well he was warned, and there was nothing to be done about that.  But another report of another soldier was that he did remove his coat, but he refused to remove his kepi, so was prohibited entry.

Now, we did not agree to the removal of hats.  Everyone in the Civil War period wore hats—it was taboo to go outside in public without one.  They might just as well go without trousers as without hats.  Yes, a civilian hat would have allowed passage, and many Confederate reenactors wear civilian hats (myself included most of the time), but many reenactors only have one hat—that being either a military kepi or forage cap.  So the rule for hats—which we never agreed to—basically outright blocked about half of the Confederate reenactors from entering the exhibit.

And when our rights were threatened,

So, Colonel Julian hatched a plan.

The cry rose near and far—

The Sunday battle was every bit as good as Saturday’s.  I saw a few more crowd there, probably due to the better weather (there was a bit of rain Saturday morning), and the Yankees kept us busy working to take our victory.

I did hear a small complaint from a captain or two from our battalion that the field for us to work in was too small.  They did cut off a good portion of the battlefield used in the past so the public could get in closer to the action, but I think all it did from our perspective is add to the challenge.

After the battle, we reformed, cleared weapons, charged the crowd, then marched in column behind the Yankee battalion.

All the way to their camp.

Hurrah for the Bonnie Blue Flag that bears the single star.

It was quite a long hike—but it was worth it.  To see their stunned faces as we crossed the bridge where the pickets had stopped our men before was a prize to be treasured.  We marched around the square, serenading them with “The Bonnie Blue Flag”.

The bridge where the Yankee pickets restricted access.

I’ll step on a bit of a soap box here and make my point—this is just a hobby, and most of us have friends of both sides—some even play on both sides.  Giving the public an authentic experience is one thing—and okay to me—but give us a way around it (removing hats is not a way around it).  In my opinion, the only place it is appropriate to completely ban the opposing sides in the hobby from the other’s camp would be at a national event—but even then, what does it matter after hours when the public has gone home?  Sometimes, we only see our friends at reenactments.  This thing that the Yankees pulled at Conner Prairie is the single big reason the 1st Tennessee has not returned.  It led to an incident they have not forgotten, and are not likely to forget any time soon.  I have to ask those Yankees responsible—of what value is that anyhow?  Would you rather there not be any Confederates at the event—perhaps make it a living history only?  The 1st Tennessee is not the only group I’ve heard that has issue with this policy.

Although the access issue mattered little to me personally, I felt angered for the treatment of men under my authority.  No, I don't offer a solution--but a solution does exist.

In spite of this, we did have fun.  It is an event I will remember--and like I said, we were close to everything, while the Yankees had quite the hike to get to sutlers, dinner, and the battlefield.  I think if Confederates go and just accept that the Yankees are to be left alone in their little corner, then the rest of the weekend can be enjoyed.  Perhaps our little escapade through their camp sent our message.

Edit:
I want to reiterate that the weekend in general was good--I would return.  Set aside the issue with the Yankees, and all is good--very good.  Perhaps the best way to handle this weekend is to simply not deal with the Yankees--they are going to be trouble, so just let them be.  We were treated well by the coordinators, and it was well worth the trip.  As for the Yankees--well, that indigo dye messes with your head.  Apparently some readers had a different impression from what they read.


Conner Prairie Facebook Page

YouTube video

One Weekend--Two Spring Drills

April 13-14

Fort Recovery OH

Do two separate spring drills in two separate locations count as two events?  I have looked over my schedule and have a total of 21 events lined up for 2013.  But if I can count the Independent Guard Battalion spring drill in Fort Recovery and the 1st Tennessee Co B spring drill in Caesar's Creek on this last weekend as two separate events, then I'll have 22 for 2013.

Well, the 1st Tennessee had already committed to their spring drill on this date at Pioneer Village long before the IG scheduled their battalion drill for the same weekend. But the plan for battalion drill was for Saturday only, leaving Sunday for the individual companies to do their company drill.  Which meant my battalion duties as major would be finished Saturday night--so I decided to join my home unit for Sunday (falling in as private)--since they were only an hour or two drive apart from each other.

At least, that was the plan.  I arrived at Ambassador Park in Fort Recovery on Friday evening after work to find only Capt Schmidt of the 19th Virginia and one of his men still setting up camp--and no one else.  "So where's battalion headquarters?" I asked.

"Wherever you want."

Col. Julian was expected a little after nine that evening.  Being the first of the staff to arrive, I picked a spot across the gravel road from Capt Schmidt against the woods, making sure there was enough space for a line of tents for the entire staff.

The evening was cold and wet, but I had packed light, planning to disembark the next evening for Caesar's Creek.  While setting my camp, Capt Lemon of the 50th Virginia arrived with his first sergeant, setting camp about fifty yards distant.  I managed to get my tent up and campfire started before Capt Schmidt completed his camp--but he did have a large wall and fly to set up, which always takes a lot of time.  As I visited with Capt Schmidt as he finished his camp, Lt Col Clark arrived with a private from the 50th VA.

This was not looking promising.  Darkness was falling, and a total of seven men were there for battalion drill, and we had only one rifle.  Col Julian arrived later in the dark, making a total of eight men, along with a few family members.

The night was cold, wet, and windy.  Fredericksburg, held in December, had better weather.  I managed to survive the night, sleeping on my tarp and canvas floor in my army sleeping bag and under enough blankets and great coats to nearly completely immobilize me.

The morning did not bring any hope.  The other member of the 19th VA (Perry) complained of running out of propane for his heater in the middle of the night and grumbled about the temperate--inside his tent--had dropped to 35.

The group of us gathered around Capt Schmidt's fire, since it was the best in the camp, and held officer's call.  Since it was officer's call, the private was not invited.  We discussed the plans for the Gettysburg 150th event, including how Col Julian was being brevetted to brigade command, leaving Lt Col Clark brevetted to the battalion command, and me being brevetted to the Lt. Colonel's position.

We also discussed plans for Conner Prairie next month and how things have changed from previous years.  I only knew of the issues second hand, having only been there once some seven years ago (which is a story all its own).

The morning finished with us waiting for the fire to die down.  It is a little difficult to drill a battalion with one private and two captains.

Pioneer Village, Caesar's Creek, Waynesville OH

But, that left more time than I had originally planned with the 1st Tennessee.  I punched in the location for Pioneer Village into my GPS and made the two hour drive down to Waynesville, listening to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" on a local NPR station, arriving at one that afternoon.  I pulled in and started unloading my car just as the company returned from a bivouac in the woods.  I quickly changed my jacket to one without rank insignia and cootered up to fall in, fumbling through the gear in my truck to snatch my musket.  Capt Sharp snatched the officer's nuts off my hat to put away before I fell in.  I suppose they felt threatening to him.

The weather now was perfect.  Sunny and warm, but cool enough to be comfortable in the jackets.

We drilled some in the field, exploring marches by platoon to give the unit exposure to battalion maneuvers--since they are pretty much the same (but on a smaller scale). 

Shortly before supper, the officers and civilians embarked on a scenario for us called "A Spy Amongst Us", where it was our job to locate the spy in the village.  Sgt Kletzli wanted to just question everyone, and if they said they weren't the spy, just shoot them.  But he told us (grumbling) that he was overruled.  We went out in platoons in opposite directions around the village and questioned each of the civilians of the 1st Tennessee we came across.  Somehow, Sgt Kletzli got information from Barb Moore that one "Samuel Bell" was the spy.

Of course, that didn't leave us with many options.  Shawn Swart was enlisted to participate as civilian due to his extensive experience and good ability for first person, and Lt Mott, being an officer, took on the civilian part.

The 7th Kansas Cavalry was there as well (they drilled with the 1st TN earlier that morning, before I arrived), and did play along with the scenario a bit, so they were also potential candidates for the spy--but since they were a Federal unit, it did seem a bit counter-productive for one of them to be the spy.

Anyway, we eventually tracked down that "Samuel Bell" (Andrew Mott), and promptly shot him.  Unfortunately, it was too late.  Some sort of spy message had already been handed off to Jen Mott, and delivered to its target.

Well, okay, that was interesting.

But it did degenerated into a tactical against the 7th Kansas.  We cornered them and shot at them, taking care not to get shot in return.

It might have gone a little quicker had we realized they had no ammunition.  Yeah, we were told in advance they were out, but can you really believe your captain when he tells you this just before the start of a scenario?

Stew was cooked by the men for supper.  Pvt Feeman offered a multitude of spices to the mix, enhancing the taste to a level rarely known by a campfire dinner.

We wrapped the evening with a round of Euchre, Capt Sharp my partner against Pvt Feeman and Pvt Zack Carte.  The game went well, and Pvt Feeman made an unexpected move of genius--ordering the right bower into Capt Sharp's nearly lay-down loner hand.  Had Capt Sharp been able to call trump with his loner, it would have been a guaranteed four points.   But with Pvt Feeman calling it, we could only gain two points.  The move was so disconcerting to Capt Sharp, he discarded a card different than he intended.  The move probably saved the game for Pvt Feeman, with him and Pvt Carte winning.

The night did get a bit uncomfortably cold again, but not nearly as bad as the night before.  I fried up the last of my bacon and eggs, finishing breakfast shortly before 1st call.  We fell in for drill, formed the much smaller company than the day before.  Capt Sharp ordered "Right face", followed by "Front", finishing with "break ranks".  It probably set a record for the shortest drill session.

We hung around the fire for a bit longer, shooting the breeze and enjoying the fine weather and each other.  The time with the 1st TN made up for my disappointment with battalion drill (er, the lack thereof), and it was a fine weekend.

Back into Wool

Hurricane WV

March 23-24, 2013

The regimental meeting had brought back the taste of wool and the desire to wear it.  Hurricane WV came and offered that chance to get that wool fix.

I arrived early on Friday, setting up camp with the 5th KY.  It was a cold day—unlike our experience from the year before.  Jeff Carte was not going to be arriving until late, so he gave me his tent to set up.

The 5th KY and I meandered out to the Hill Billy Hot Dog—the place we discovered at Guyandotte last year.  With only a half hour drive, there was not much problem getting out to it.  They remembered us from last year—this will likely be our regular semi-annual feasting place.

Somewhere in setting things up I lost the heel plate from one of my brogans, but fortunately the sutler—Riverside—who had sold me heel plates at Guyandotte when I lost my other heel plate was there to attach the slab of metal.

That night was cold—I was bundled up as tight as I could, but the zipper of my army sleeping bag had stuck—so I had to fight with keeping the bag closed underneath the seventy blankets I had on top of me.  But I managed to make it through without any frostbite.  Someone said the temperature had dropped to the teens during the night.

Biscuits and gravy with potatoes waited for us at breakfast.   It was a decent experience.

I was under the impression this was the 5th’s spring drill, but though the did drill, it was no different than a normal drill at any event.  But at least we did drill.

We fought the battle in the valley against a hill, pushing the few Yankees back, flanking them up the hill—though only Capt Steiner and a few others of us were will to tredge up the hill.  I got volunteered by Jeff Carte when Capt Steiner shouted down the hill for volunteers to follow him up.  The only issue I ran into was with Christine—my musket.  I had greased the lockplate up so well for the winter that the hammer would not click when going to half-cock or full cock.   It was perfectly silent—I had to guess at the right position and hoped it would hold.  I cleaned off that excess grease immediately following the battle.

We saw a mix of units there—one unit seemed okay as far as what they were doing, but several others scared us.  One unit lined up beside us on the path as we waited to enter the battle, and when their commander ordered, “Front,” he qualified it with “Now when I say, ‘Front,’ I mean that I want you to form a single rank toward me.  Since I had my ear plugs in, I was not sure I had actually heard right, so I turned to the private in front of me and asked him.  “You had heard right,” he said, with the same of surprise as I had.

The end of the battle brought another shocker to me—I learned a new command as the color company passed us returning to their camp.  From Color Company, I heard their sergeant shout, “Prepare to halt,” followed with “Halt!”  I wonder if the also have “Prepare to right face” or “Prepare to march”.

That night we spent our time around the campfire, reminiscing of past events and planning for the coming events, along with laughing and joking.  I missed these times, even if only a few short months ago, and was glad to be back into it.

Saturday night was much warmer than Friday, and I was able to fix my zipper.  But the morning brought with it a serious threat for rain, so everyone dropped canvas early.  We were all packed by around 10 am, and many already started leaving, expecting rain to hit about the time for battle.  We were hearing of 6 to 8 inches of snow back home.  We paid $10 to be here, and it did not sound like a fun way to finish the weekend.  Capt Steiner, Susan DellaFlora, Jeff Carte, and I were the last of the 5th KY to leave, waiting for the last of our fire to die, shortly before noon.

The Regimental Meeting 2013

The Regimental Meeting

Heritage Center
Springfield, Ohio

March 2, 2013

Finally, we take a look at the year ahead of us.  Capt. Sharp opened the meeting with a review of 2012, going through each of the events that were on the 1st Tennessee’s schedule and bringing up what was remembered about them.

Ten events were up for vote, with two being on the same weekend in May.  Surprisingly, some of the regular events did not make the official list—garnering an insufficient number of votes.

The list of events that the 1st Tennessee will be attending for 2013 include:

April 13-14 Spring Drill at Pioneer Village
May 25-26 Ohio Village, Columbus, Ohio
June 22-23 Reynoldsburg Ohio
July 4-7 Gettysburg, PA
July 19-21 Buffington Island, OH
September 28-29 Pioneer Village

As Capt Sharp noted, it is a bit of a lean list, although the Durbin Bean Bake Labor Day weekend is also unofficially on the list.  I’m certainly not satisfied with only six events.

The events I have on my plate include the above (except for the company drill):

March 23-24 Hurricane WV
April 13-14 Battalion drill at Fort Recovery.
May 18-19 Conner Prairie, IN
July 13 Harrison OH
July 27-28 Greenville OH
October 12-13 Hartford City
August 10-11 Hale Farm, OH
August 24-25 Jackson MI
September 7-8 Zoar, OH
September 19-22 Chicamauga, GA
October 26-27 Fort Wayne, IN

Sharon Woods was a popular choice among the 1st Tennessee, so there might be enough for a company going there.   The Independent Guard Battalion is going to Conner Prairie, so since I’m on staff as major, my duties fall there.

Awards and promotions were given, with Chris Silvers promoted to corporal, Jeff Carte to quartermaster sergeant to replace Gary Shaw, whose health (after four heart attacks last year) can no longer hold out for the role.  Andrew Mott was promoted to Lieutenant, and Jim Kletzli to 1st sergeant.

Pvt Butch Foster getting his "Most Memorable Moment" award.

Back in the Spring

Well, I've tried to publish something every month--even if just one small thing--but this time I'm out of ideas.  Nothing is going on concerning Civil War Reenacting at this time.  So, for now, I'm going on hiatus.  We'll see in you the spring...

The Wall

Fredericksburg, VA

December 8, 2012

The last event of the season finally arrived and I began my long trek to Fredericksburg, Virginia crammed into a Ford Explorer with three other guys and their gear.  I joined Quinn Marcotte, Charles Russ, with Butch Foster in his SUV.

It was a long 11-hour trip with Butch arguing with my GPS about the way we should go.  The lady in the box was determined to always get even with us whenever we tried to veer off her planned path, always leading us back to her route.

It probably would have been a shorter trip if we had simply given in to the shrew.

We camped at Slaughter Pen Farm, which was the actual battleground where Jackson had his front lines.  That night we met with the colonel of our battalion, and Capt Steiner of the 5th KY (the unit we fell in with) requested we be deployed as skirmishers in the town of Fredericksburg as the Yankee invaders crossed the Rappahannock.  He had the experience of doing this for the 145th, and hoped we could do it again.  The colonel agreed to the request.

But in the morning the battalion sergeant major informed us we would be the color guard since we were a small unit (seven rifles plus the captain) and appeared to have the only flag.  With reluctance, we conceded, and Butch took the flag as the first bearer, the plan being that we would rotate around so all could have the opportunity to shoot.

Butch appeared near depression as he trudged with us into formation to mark the line for the battalion, carrying the 5th’s St Andrew’s Cross.  However, as we waited, another battalion officer came to us with a request.  He told us that a North Carolina unit requested the honor of being the color guard, to allow their flag the history of being in all the 150s.  Butch could not contain himself as he handed the flag to Quinn.  “Here, hold this,” he said as he charged off with the determination of a tiger seeking its prey, nearly trampling another battalion in the process.  He was after his rifle, and we had to holler after him to take the flag with him to return it to its cradle by the captain’s tent.

And it got even better when we were told we would be deployed as skirmishers after all.

It took two buses to transport our entire battalion over to the staging site near where we would confront the Yankees.  For awhile we had lost the colors in transport, but they managed to find their way to the battalion formation.

The colonel found a local resident willing to donate his small yard enclosed with a short stone wall as our defensive position.  Located directly across the street from the landing for the pontoon bridge, we were in a prime configuration for harassing the Yankees.

We were instructed that we were to die at that location.  So after harassing the Yankees as first a platoon landed from a pontoon boat, we started making ourselves easy targets.  But the Yankees must have been marching with horse blinders as they only aimed at the Yankee battalions in front of them up the hill beside us and down the street in front of us.  I put a few double-loads in hoping to make enough noise to attract their attention.  We were at the point that just one Yankee shooting in our direction would have experienced a miracle ricochet that would take out all four of us in that little alcove.

Capt Steiner, beside me, even started shouting orders to the Yankees.  “Fire to your oblique!” he shouted.

But nothing seem to work.  Capt Steiner kept mumbling, “How did they ever win the war?”  Imagine if this was for real—our little platoon had a total of nine rifles (two had fallen in with us looking for a home), and we were being completely ignored.  We could have probably succeeded in taking out more than an entire battalion.

We were finally overrun when a Yankee commander and a couple of other Yankees started chasing that other Confederate battalion up the hill beside us.  I think we caught that Yankee completely by surprise—he had been oblivious to our presence until he had practically stumbled upon us.  Capt Steiner started to pull out his sword and hollered, “SHOOT US!”

That Yankee was something better left out of print.  He was furious with us, shouting to us to not to shoot and being as threatening as he could have, never mind that if has been real, he would now be contributing donations of lead to future Yankees.  What could we do?  At that point we basically hid in that corner as the Yank stumbled on like something out of the Three Stooges and ignored us—no pickets to guard his prisoners or anything to cover for the scenario screw-up he caused.

All was well, however.  After the Yankees moved on, we regrouped and joined our battalion up the street behind the fighting.  We watched from behind as Rebel sharpshooters took potshots at the Yankee battalion, making each step a struggle for those Yankees.  As they moved on we shared lunch from food we stored in our haversacks.

Some of us were noticeable short on water in our canteens.  I had plenty in the half-gallon water buffalo I keep at my side, but others were not so fortunate.  Water could only be had by foraging for water facets about the nearby buildings.

Our battalion reformed and marched up to Marye’s Heights.  It seemed rather quiet, so someone—I believe it was Capt Steiner—asked me to lead us in “Bonnie Blue Flag”.  It was an honor that gave me a thrill to sing that song in remembrance of all those soldiers that lost their lives 150 years ago.  After finishing, the fifer played a few ditties, then returned to Bonnie Blue Flag, where I started up again.  The hike went about a mile up hill to Marye’s Heights, where we stacked arms and waited for the concluding battle.

We had plenty of time, so Quinn and I wandered to the visitors’ center and the original wall where the Yankees met their doom.  Not much remained of that original wall, but a sobering moment passed through me as I stood behind it and imaged a sea of blue falling against the wall of singing lead from the dragon breath that spewed forth from men defending their homes.  Or the awe and terror the Yankees must have felt facing that stonewall where an invincible wall of gray stood fast.

Back where we were to fight, which was at the end of the Sunken Road, a painted plywood wall was set up in a one acre plot to represent the stonewall.  The field felt cramped with our four Confederate battalions preparing to face the four Yankee battalions on a field barely large enough for a single battalion. They lined the gray backs four deep against that wall.  We worked the rifles, the front man passing his empty rifle back while the rear man loaded powder, the next up priming, and the second from the front trading muskets around.  Not long in, the field had such a fog of smoke we could barely see the blue as the planked the ground with their coats.

And we had forgotten the artillery battery parked up the hill, perhaps 30 yards behind us.  As we blazed away, a cannon blasted over our heads.  The hill sloped well enough to keep us well below the danger zone, but that concussion was sudden and severe.  At that point Quinn expressed his gratitude for having brown trousers, while Charles Russ, in his Irish accent, said, “I think I peed a little.”

The smoke was thick.  The muskets fired so quickly as to produce the steady rumble of machinery.  Men fell within five yards of the wall, yet were difficult to see through the cloud.  The battle ended when the Angel of Marye’s Heights scenario was reenacted.

Weather was amazing for December.  I had feared that it would be cold and wet—even snowing, like what those men experienced 150 years ago.  But the balmy air held in the sixties.  When we marched that mile march from the river to the heights, I found myself sweating.

Although I was well stocked with water, numerous others had issues with the water supply.  Once we were in the town we were completely on our own for water and latrine facilities, which was a problem since we had little break between the nine a.m. battle and the two p.m. battle.  But for me, the only real issue of the event was the wait for the buses to return us to camp.  The original trip into town did not take overly long as it was well planned with sufficient busses.  But returning to camp took a wait of nearly an hour as only two school busses traded loads.

However, overall it was spectacular.  Perryville was better, but there is much history here, and it was unique.

The trip back proved as long as the trip out, and having to listen to the single CD of Irish music that Charles Russ had purchased for the entire trip seemed to extend it even more.  I think it replayed around eleven times—we nearly memorized every song when we finally dropped Chuck off.

I enjoyed the time with these men and the 5th KY—we had become a band of brothers.  I look forward to more events with them, but the season is now over.  My next event is not until March with Hurricane—my addiction to wool will send withdrawal symptoms into overdrive.








Links:

Fredericksburg.com news desk.

http://news.fredericksburg.com/newsdesk/2012/12/09/fredericksburg-a-city-plundered/

http://news.fredericksburg.com/newsdesk/2012/12/06/irish-will-have-a-role-in-battle-weekend/

Examiner

http://www.examiner.com/article/this-week-the-civil-war-the-battle-of-fredericksburg

Washington Post

http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/battle-of-fredericksburg-re-enacted-commemorate-150th-anniversary/2012/12/08/0b524d52-417e-11e2-a2d9-822f58ac9fd5_video.html

http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/civil-war-battle-rages-again-in-streets-of-fredericksburg/2012/12/08/382e3e84-3fea-11e2-a2d9-822f58ac9fd5_story.html

Photos

http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/the-battle-of-fredericksburg-at-150/2012/12/08/11e26ca2-4182-11e2-bca3-aadc9b7e29c5_gallery.html#photo=1

Youtube

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5BG3tUJyso&feature=share

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3SS-9wIGXA4

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10151140088120841&set=a.10151140067495841.434244.52585440840&type=1&ref=nf

http://www.facebook.com/dckinsella/photos_stream

Civil War Trust

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151278889673851.487778.21813808850&type=1

Virginia Guard Public Affairs:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/vaguardpao/8254962957/in/photostream/ (oops--guess the bridge is a little short)

Event Site:

http://fredericksburg150.org/