Outnumbered at Shawshank

Ohio State Reformatory

Mansfield, OH

August 27, 2016

With a significant number of promises from the men of meeting Capt Sharp at the Ohio Reformatory in Mansfield, Ohio, we planned to spend a good portion of the day in drill, fine-tuning our skills for the next couple of events.

But much of that number went AWOL, leaving us with little more than a squad, so any idea of drill was quickly forgotten.

Pvt Steve Winston pitched his tent and started the fire.  Sgt Jeff Carte set up a tent and the fly.  But as this was a one-day event, most arrived Saturday morning in time for roll-call.

Instead, we spent much of the day in discussion.  Capt Sharp spent some time with us working out ideas for first-person impressions.  We did have a short drill, but a second drill, planned as consolidated with the Yankee contingent, was canceled when Capt Sharp was called away to assist in convincing a very ailing Doc Gill to report to Q Company.

When night fell, after visiting several scenes of era civilians headed by Elizabeth Topping, a tour of the public came out to meet with us.  Capt Sharp gave a talk discussing our life as soldiers while a couple of men stood picket a ways off, and the rest of us just hung around looking busy.  Eventually a small Yankee contingent attacked.  We pushed them off, and the night concluded.

Preparing for Battle

Perryville Cleanup Day

August 20th 2016

Perryville, KY

Saturday morning on August 20--just after 9 am--we met with the park officials at Perryville Battlefield.  They gave us some tools, and we headed for the hill next to Starkweather Hill.

The job before us was to remove a modern wire fence that had put up after the Battle of Perryville.  This work in particular was important as we would be fighting the Saturday battle during the October reenactment across this land.  This was ground recently acquired by the park where few had ever been since the battle, and not far beyond this fence is where many of the original 1st Tennessee were buried after the battle.

At the bottom of the hill, Steven Winston had already started Friday afternoon, removing a good portion of the fence.  We started with bold cutters, pulling off fencing through weeds and overgrowth, folding the pieces up into piles to be carried away later.  Progress was slow and the ground was wet.  Steven Winston worked with Kurt (the curator of the park) in pulling the fence posts and placing them in piles to be pulled away.

At one point, Rick Compton needed to get something out of his truck at the top of the hill, and drove it back down to where we worked.  He got it in his head that there had to be an easier way to remove the fence.

He was proud of his four wheel drive Ford F-150 with with brush guards, and anxious to learn what all the newfangled buttons were for. Rick was giddy with delight at being able to use his truck in this manner, and I was more than happy to assist with this play time.  We hooked a strap to the front of his truck, then around some of the wire fence and he threw the truck into reverse, pulling the fence off taking about a hundred yards of of fence in short order.

Over the course of the day, we broke the 4000 pound strap a couple of times trying to pull the fence with Ricks truck out of a tree.

At 1 p.m. we had almost finished the fence with about a hundred yards to go, but were called in due to an incoming storm.

We met back at the Museum and then to the local Marathon station where there was food to eat for lunch, returning to the fence after the rains had cleared.

We finished the work after about an hour, returning to Danville to our hotel and eating at a local pizza place.

Rain

I was the first of the company to arrive at Hale Farm, and found we were assigned our usual location in the woods.  I started to drive my car down the trail into the woods, but rains had been pummeling the area, leaving rutted mud paths where the wheels of my car would only spin, so I parked just to the edge of the woods and started unloading.

I was soon confronted by Col Van Wey with a handshake.  Among a bit of small talk he pointed to the piles of dirt on the field where the battles would be held.  The crew that made those piles had not followed the instructions which included the digging of trenches.  However, it was probably good as we agreed we would probably end up reenacting the Parting of the Red Sea.

The rest of the company arrived, and all but myself decided to campaign, sleeping under a fly or shebang.  I came, not knowing what rank I would hold, so had gear for both private and lieutenant and needed a place to store my spare gear, so had the only A in camp.

With the threat of rain lasting all weekend long, our numbers were down.  None of our ladies attended.

The schedule Saturday was pretty light, with only picket duty being assigned.  An abundance of rations was issued early and timely, which included pork, potatoes, eggs, and apples.

We went into parade with my rifle in my hand.  We expected a new recruit to arrive who would be carrying my gun, but he had not shown yet, and we needed the rifles.

A quick morning parade, then we worked to improve the breastworks, adding logs to strengthen.  When we finished we were free to relax and enjoy the rest of our morning.

Our new recruit did finally show, and we outfitted him in time for battle, allowing me to carry a sword instead of a rifle.

We went into battle and defended the breastwork.  As the battle neared completion, the rains hit hard, first drenching the crowds, giving us a show as if the apocalypse was upon us as they scattered to shelter.  But the rains quickly hit us as well, and we had the men clear muskets and double-quick to the shelter of the woods.

The rains continued for hours, turning our camp into a lake.  Picket duty was canceled.  Dinner approached and Pvt Compton cooked a tasty dinner for us, combining the rations with corn, spinach, and onion, running out to the campfire when the rains let up and returning to shelter when the clouds opened up.

Pvt Matt Roberts showed up late into the night and joined us, setting up a shebang next to Cpl Silvers.

I settled for the night, getting dry in the warm night inside my tent.

Morning came to more wet.  Pvt Compton wanted to cook up breakfast for us, but finally gave up out of frustration, unable to get coals worked up between the heavy and constant rains.  Except for morning parade and the battle, all other activities were canceled.

Between parade and the battle, we broke camp and hauled off our gear to our cars, trying to beat the worst of the rains we heard were coming.

The battle proceeded, and we fought until we ran out of ammunition, but we held the breastworks.

And with nothing left dry in our possession, we left.

The Curse of the Captain's Coat

Hale Farm

Bath Ohio

August 8-9, 2015

Courtesy Brittany Wellman

Heavy rains accompanied every event where Capt Sharp's new officer's frock was present, including Spring Drill, Sharon Woods, and Ohio Village.  This coincidental harrowing weather left the company to believe that the coat was cursed.  The men offered to donate the cost of the coat if the rains returned for Hale Farm, so that it could be burned in the campfire.

The captain brevetted me to lieutenant for the weekend as we gathered at Hale Farm and Village in Bath Ohio.  1st Sgt Kletzli was unable to attend due to injury, leaving Sgt Jeff Carte to take his place.  I arrived to see Sgt Carte setting the camp, along with Pvt Jon Farrelly.

Trisha Carte identified a perfect location for our campfire--a group of dead stumps.  Pvt Farrelly started to dig a bit of a pit when he noticed a some yellow jackets flying around.  Before he knew it, an entire swarm was gathering around and some started to sting.

As the rest of us received stings, except for Sgt Carte who had stepped away, we realized that the only way we would get a campfire was to spray down the now-exposed ground next with bug spray, after the nest settled enough for us to get close.

Courtesy Brittany Wellman

Once sprayed down and fire blazing on the nest, the rest of the company arrived, giving us about 15 rifles for Saturday.

I slept on the ground in my A, and late into the night the air grew cold, making it difficult to sleep without getting a chill.

Saturday held a tight, though dynamic schedule.  We formed for parade with Medich Battalion, aligning as fourth company, after which we broke to shortly reform for battle, but the battle was delayed.

After the morning battle, we marched out for the cavalry demonstration, where we would form a square and defend against cavalry.  We marched out to the field, only to learn the cavalry had unsaddled their horses and tied them up to cool, so we marched back to camp.

Rations were issued and we scrambled to get lunch together, saving the rations for Sunday and gathering food we brought, for we had less than an hour to form for the afternoon battle.

The sun disappeared to an overcast day, and reports of a thunderstorm in Toledo gave us fear that the curse of the Captain's coat was upon us.  The battle progressed, and we were pushed back.  We lost half our company and Capt. Sharp took a hit, leaving me in charge.  We fell back to a fence line, and the 1st TN survivors got split up as we found positions along the fence to defend ourselves.  There wasn't much for me to do other than run to each of the spread out men and ensure they kept firing.  It wasn't long and the Union cavalry flanked us to the rear, completely surrounding our forces, leaving us no choice but to surrender.  All that remained of the 1st TN at this point was Chad Cochran, brevetted to corporal for the weekend, and I.  We were taken prisoner and escorted off the field, where I turned to Cpl Cochran and told him, "We are the fourth company."

The rains held off, at least, so there was promise that the curse of the Captain's coat might have lost some of its power.

Before we broke back to camps, the Sgt Major asked for volunteers for night guard watch.  Bvt Cpl Andy Enyart volunteered for the 4 to 6 am shift.

For supper, our ladies cooked up an excellent meal.

Later, Lt. Col. Greg Van Wey gathered Medich Battalion together for a "Town Hall" meeting.  There, Capt Sharp told about the 2016 Perryville event to garner interest, but then we had to leave for a meeting with the Ohio Village Yankee commanders to discuss a bit for an after-action report and plans for the 2016 Ohio Village.

Courtesy Hale Farm and Village

I crashed a little early, lying down in my tent with my legs still sticking out, waking hours later in the dark of night, unable to get warm.  After struggling to warm up for an hour, I relocated my gum and wool blankets next to the campfire.

The Sunday schedule was immediately blown with reveille coming a half hour later than originally scheduled.

1st Sergeant's call came at 7 am at the Sgt Major's call.  Upon Sgt Carte's return, he immediately called first call.  Most of the 1st Tennessee was still asleep, so we struggled to get everyone up and awake and geared-up.

Someone got the weather report and it looked like there would be rain in the afternoon, about the time of the battle.  We feared that the curse of the Captain's coat might still hold, and discussed the plans for burning the coat.

We marched out to a ceremony for Col Nick Medich.  This was his last event as the leader of Medich Battalion as command was transferred to Col Greg Van Wey.  The Yankee brigade joined the ceremony as all of us passed in review.

We returned to camp and given a short break, then reformed to present the Appomattox surrender scenario.  We waited--apparently the Yankees were on a different schedule--then marched out and waited some more.  And then we were marched back to camp.

Finally our schedule synced up with the Yankees and we marched up to the Hale House and made our surrender, dropping our packs and weapons, and signing and returning home.

Courtesy Hale Farm and Village

We had about an hour break before we had to reform for battle, though we had a bit more waiting as our schedule seemed a bit off again.

We were marched to the far side of the battlefield to advance down upon the Yankee formations.  After a fashion, the Yankees pushed us back, and the numbers of the 1st Tennessee steadily declined.

Capt. Sharp took a hit, and Sgt Carte announced, "Captain down," telling me that I was now in command.  I checked on the captain, since the battalion was not moving at the moment, then took the captain's position.

We were pushed back further.  Capt Sharp struggled up and wandered the field like a dazed and confused injured soldier, going down upon a volley from the Yankees.  Sgt Carte told me, "He likes to be such an actor."

We were pushed back to the fence, before we finally finished the battle.  We then returned to camp, where we were released.

And with that, not a drop of rain touching us, the curse of the Captain's coat was broken.

Unending upon the Day

Hale Farm

Bath, Ohio

August 9-10, 2014

It was a rough ride to Hale Farm Friday evening.  I had gotten lazy and trusted the voice recognition of my smart phone when I spoke the location into the navigation.  It was the correct direction out of Columbus, so it must have been correct.  But when I passed the exit onto the I-80 Turnpike, I knew something was wrong.  I checked the GPS out, and somehow it decided to direct me to a William Tricker Inc on Tanglewood Dr in Cleveland.  How it got that out of “Hale Farm, Bath Ohio,” I’ll never know.  I’m beginning to think that Google is trying to take over the world by slowly directing us to drive into a lake—one-by-one.

I wasn’t able to get off early from work, so it was near nightfall when I finally arrived.  Last year, when I was with the 4th OVI, the Yankees were in the village, so I assumed the 1st TN would be setting up camp in the village this year.  But when I reached the deep part of the village, near the church, and ran into Capt Boham of the 4th, I thought there was some kind of mistake—but then realized I was surrounded by Yankees.  Ah—so it seems it’s an arbitrary thing as to where each side camps.  I made my way to the Confederate camp—with Col Bob Minton ribbing me for getting lost as I passed him.

I finally found the 1st Tennessee Camp, thanks to the help of Capt Sharp as he called me on my phone to direct me when he saw me driving up and down past them.  The camp was a bit out-of-the-way, in a wooded area.  The road was mud and a bit risky to take a car through, so I was left to carry my gear in.  Fortunately, I was going pretty light, having left my car packed from Greenville, so I only had a few trips.  I probably could have reduced the trips if I had packed my knapsack properly—but life has its way of keeping one from getting things done.

It was dark by the time my shebang was up, and I still had a pile of gear and blankets to sort through, but I managed to throw together a makeshift sleeping area.

Saturday morning held an early start as we formed up to attack the Yankees in their camp for a tactical.  The original start was scheduled for 6 am, but the Yankees, apparently needing some extra rest, requested the time be pushed back to 8 am.

Col Medich, as overall Confederate commander, split the battalion into two groups.  The 1st Tennessee was part of the vanguard group that attacked the village from the far east side, waiting until the sound of the second group’s gunfire on the west side to attack.   We encountered the Yankees at the edge of the village, fog hiding our and their numbers, neither of us able to push against the other.  Lt. Col Van Wey finally realized that success would come if we only held them—we were against about two-thirds the Yankee force, but our main force was pushing through the village to reinforce us.  By merely keeping the bulk of the Yankee force busy, our victory was ensured.

Formation for drill came at 10 am.  We maneuvered through some challenging drills, then went into a cavalry demonstration where we formed a square to guard against cavalry, and the 6th Ohio Cavalry charged around us, providing quite a thrill.

Back to camp for a short break, and we formed again for an artillery demonstration.  The plan was simple.  Three guns, three sections to the battalion.  The 1st Tennessee as the 4th company and the 5th company would all go down at once when the left gun fired, and the rest of the battalion going down in similar fashion.

We exited the woods and began our advance against the battery.  We marched forward at the half-step, to give the guns plenty of time to load and fire.  The advance continued—and continued—we began to wonder if they would fire.  We finally crested the last hill before reaching the guns—right at the edge of the safety zone.  We fired a few volleys to keep from looking too overly stupid, and continued to wait.  Was it a misfire?  Finally, the left gun fired—we wasted no time and hit the ground.  Shortly after, the next gun, and finally the last.

But in the time it took for those guns to fire—we would have captured and turned them if this were a real battle.

We resurrected, returned to the woods, only to turn around and head back out to start the afternoon battle.  We split into two groups, with the right wing heading up into the village to hold back the Yankees while us on the left wing fought the Yankees in the field.

The ground was a bit uneven, there were holes in places we had to be very careful about—some were deep enough to take a leg off.  It was enough of a problem that I would suggest the coordinators take effort to deal with it for next year—before someone gets hurt.

The Yankees came out of the woods against us, and we fired a round or two, when suddenly there was a call for a medic.

What most of the spectators aren’t aware of is that when there is a call for a medic—the battle stops.  Major Bill “Pork Pie” Adams was in charge of our wing, and he sent a runner to the Yankees who were oblivious of the situation—to have the halt the battle while EMTs arrived.

It turned out two of the artillery crew passed out from the heat.   Perhaps that explained the poor firing capability of the cannons.

After a delay, the battle finally started.  We formed up in plain view of the Yankees and proceeded to fire upon them.

The battle finally ended with us routed.

Afterward we heard complaints from the Yankees that they couldn’t shoot at us because they couldn’t see us.  The crest of the hill we were on obscured us from the Yankees.

How did the Confederacy lose the war?

Pay call was to be about an hour after the battle.  We waited for over an hour and nothing.  I got a good sleep, but pay call never came.  We returned to camp.

Sunday morning had a bit of a later start as there was no tactical.  I needed to get the rations for the company, but they were not available as the bacon was locked.  The rations did arrive shortly before drill, which gave us insufficient time to cook it, but we were able to get the food started, and while we drilled, the ladies finished the cooking.  Upon our return, most of the food was ready.  The eggs were all that was left, so I quickly scrambled them.  The food was abundant—and we couldn’t finish it all.

Another attempt at Pay Call was made—and we waited.  It finally came to twenty minutes before we’d form for battle, so we returned to camp.

At this point I ran into my brother and six-year old nephew.  We didn’t have much time together, but it was good to see him.  I think I managed to give him enough a taste of reenacting that he might try it out next year.


The battle started and we made a point of advancing far enough for the Yankees to be able to see us.  No point in making them think they were shooting at nothing but blackpowder smoke.

There was a lot of kneeling and rising as we battered down the Yanks.  The 1st TN finally broke off to the left to flank the Yankees, but they outnumbered us.  We held while we could, but the Yankees pushed down upon us.

The weekend was a busy one—and a terrific time.  The schedule was too tight to do regularly, but the occasional event with a heavy schedule is good to have.  Hale Farm is definitely among the best events in Ohio.

A Decline in Numbers

Jackson, MI

August 24-25, 2013

Jackson, Michigan has been one of my annual staples since 2010, when I went all-out for Civil War reenacting.  For the number of reenactors that attended--normally several hundred--the battlefield is rather small, but forces those in command to think quickly and maneuver in tight quarters.  This was my second year here on battalion staff.

But numbers were down.  We considered a lot had to do with Gettysburg, but we weren't really sure.  Of the Independent Guard companies that attended, only the 50th Virginia and the 12th South Carolina were there.  We were too small to even carry our flag on the field.

Another Confederate battalion was there as well--Medich battalion, but their colonel was unable to attend, leaving the command to their Lt Colonel.  I'm not sure how in such situations overall Confederate command is decided, but Col Medich is normally overall commander for this event, and I think that was how the event coordinators decided to make their Lt Colonel overall commander.

Because of our small numbers we had a lot more interaction with Medich battalion that we normally do.  Usually all we see is Medich battalion doing their thing on the battlefield, while we do ours.  Col Julian will discuss a few things with Col Medich, but that is about the extent of it.  This year, however, there were a few times where we appended ourselves onto Medich Battalion to make us look like one large battalion.  We still pretty much had our autonomy, but we worked much closer with Medich battalion to accomplish the tasks.

Lt John Porter was also unable to attend, so I filled in as acting adjutant for the weekend, though with only two companies, there wasn't much for me to do.  In addition to my role as major, I basically brought the two companies on line and formed the parade.  Lt Porter also handles attendance roles, but there was not much worrying about that this weekend.

Saturday morning proved a bit of a rough start.  At four in the morning I awoke to a coughing fit due to allergy problems.  My allergy medication takes about an hour to kick in, so I was up for the day.

I started the fire with the wood the park provided--it was probably the greenest wood I had seen at an event.  It was all spruce and pine and some of the spruce wood still had sprouts with green needles.  The pine sap made it easy to start the fire, but the green wood made it difficult to keep the fire burning well.

The Saturday battle was not overly memorable.  It was a scenario from Chancellorsville, though I don't know the intended details.  We had the 12th SC start out without their coats to give the impression they were Yankee militia, and they started fighting against us.  The plan was that they would be captured almost immediately, then our battalion--which was only the 50th VA at that time--would take them as prisoners, where they would put their coats back on and rejoin us into battle.

Something didn't go quite right.  As soon as we took the 12th SC as prisoners, we were ordered back on line to defend the left flank.  The 12th quickly put their coats on and joined us.  I guess we could say that we paroled them--and they decided to join us.

From there, all I know is that both battalions pushed the Yankees across the field, with the 12th SC flanking them on the right, and Medich's last company flanking on the left.

Supper that evening left something to be desired.  Two slices of roast pork, a roll or cornbread, and potato or macaroni salad.  Not much to fill up on, and not much taste.  Fortunately, the Lt Colonel offered me some lunch meat to supplement my meal.

My allergies were a little better Sunday morning--I had taken some Benedryl the night before, but I still had a bit of a coughing fit around 1:30 in the morning.  I found, however, that I wasn't alone in my allergy problems.  Col Julian also expressed problems with allergies, along with a number of others.  There was apparently something in the air at Jackson that was giving all of us problems.  My best guess was that horribly green spruce and pine wood--burning that wood must have put allergens in the air that made us ill.

I did manage to sleep later, waking to the bugle call of reveille from the Yankees.

This day seemed a bit lighter--we started drill with our annual meeting, voting for the Sergeant Major and Adjutant positions.  Since both Len Kiser and John Porter ran unopposed for those positions, we only had to re-affirm them, though both seem to have been granted their positions for life.

We then went into a simple drill with Medich Battalion, forming a column of companies and circling the battlefield--basically making sure the companies do their wheelings correctly while in a column of companies--though we never needed to use this again.

After drill, Jeff, Trish and I wandered the sutlers.  My drawers were falling apart--I had patches upon patches--and managed to find a decent pair at James Country.

The battle had an intermission like Saturday's battle.  Jackson did this last year as well--and I'm not sure what that is all about, other than it lengthens the battle time.  Perhaps it works well--it's tough to make an impression from my perspective.

The first part of the battle was not very memorable--it was something from Gettysburg, but I couldn't tell you what. However, the second part of the battle was a success.  We did Pickett's Charge, forming three battalions of two companies each, with Medich splitting their battalion, while we stood on our own.  The field was small, so we didn't have far to go.  Each battalion advanced and fired one battalion volley, loading once more for all of us to fire at once.

We then advanced hard on the Yankees.  The fight didn't last long.  The entire IG Battalion was decimated.  I took a leg wound and started dragging myself to the rear of the battlefield.

I do enjoy this event--but it would be better if we can see a return to solid numbers.  Perhaps next year, when the big 150th events will be in the past.

The Confederate Commander

Jackson OH 

August 17-18, 2013 

Courtesy Keisha Waley

Jackson, Ohio, so I was told, was intended to be for this one time only, in commemoration for John Hunt Morgan's 150th year of invasion into Ohio.  The event went well, and talk was that it may be brought back next year.  The huge battlefield had space for four battalions to maneuver comfortably, and still have cavalry and artillery running the field, so if it could obtain the reenactor numbers, Jackson Ohio has the potential for being one of Ohio's significant events.

That being said, with our numbers at only 10 Confederate Infantry to 12 Federal Infantry, along with a dozen or so cavalry and 6 artillery pieces on each side, we were rather limited in what we could do.

The event started with a trip to downtown Jackson to reenact Morgan's run through town.  It was a bit goofy, with the four of us from the 1st Tennessee carrying our muskets, pretending to be dismounted cavalry, while we followed the cavalry on horseback through the town square.  We were told there would be wagons there with food and that we were allowed to raid the wagons.  Most got away with several ears of corn--but I already had corn back in camp.  I got away with a cucumber and a few beats the size of cantaloupes.

We were taxied from the downtown area back to camp in a driver in a mini-van.  Since only five of us could fit at a time, several trips were required.  Sgt Kletzli, Sgt Carte, and I took the last trip, and wished we had walked.  The driver was an interesting, and frightening woman. She changed subject matters faster than a woman with a TV remote on all-sports Sunday, and she barely took a breath, never stopping her conversation the entire trip back.  She had gotten so engrossed in her talking that we desperately wished to escape from, that we she exited the van to open the door for us, she forgot to put the vehicle into park and nearly leveled a nearby sutler tent.

The largest single organized group at the event was probably the 43rd Tennessee, who we encountered as third company at Reynoldsburg.  The overall organizer for the event appeared to be one Sgt Kletzli told me was Merle, who portrayed John Hunt Morgan.  Merle was a good man--but I was not familiar with him.  Sgt Kletzli knew him well, though.  I knew the 43rd TN through my command over them as wing commander at Reynoldsburg, and wasn't surprised when Sgt Kletzli told me about the officer's meeting for the Saturday battle where Capt Hornsby of the 43rd TN basically told Kletzli that whatever he wanted would be what they all did. Merle pretty much agreed.  The Federals weren't much better--Bob Mergel (of the 5th KY) was playing Federal this weekend and told me they had no one in charge of their group.

That pretty much put Sgt Kletzli as overall Confederate Commander--by proxy.

I believe he did well, but it was interesting to see this guy who can complain about a missing petal on a flower in a field of daisies, as he tried to make sense of the challenge ahead of him.

The Saturday battle was okay, but not memorable, and all of us agreed it was rather boring.  Basically, the cannons fired a bit, then we went out in skirmish lines and face the Federal skirmish like and blasted at each other for awhile, then withdrew from the field.

The 43rd Tennessee planned to all take hits, while we would gracefully withdraw to cover the cavalry's retreat.  The fields was too short--it was perhaps less than 75 feet between the marked safety zones of the opposing artillery forces, giving us very little room to maneuver in.  The four of us fought awhile against Henry repeaters on the far side of the field.  We tried to get the help of the cavalry, but it was a struggle.  Sgt Kletzli ran to the cavalry fighting on the other side of the field to get their help, but only got the response, "But they've got repeaters--we can't help."

Sgt Kletzli reminded them, "But they're only firing blanks.  They're not going to be a problem."

We did get some help from the cavalry, enough to be able to finish out the scenario.

The Yankees salute General Farbie.  Courtesy Rick Hahn

The event provided a healthy meal for supper, and as I waited in line to get my meal I noticed one person--I'm not sure you could call him a reenactor--in probably the Farbiest uniform I have ever seen.  It was bright blue--so bright he could be spotted from the other side of the park.  Made of polyester, he had a maroon polyester sash tipped with golden tassles.  He wore some kind of cowboy-looking slouch had with some kind of Union shield on the front.  I didn't catch the shoes he wore as the blue was just plain blinding.

It was something I had never seen before.  David Waugh, a Federal reenactor from the 76th OVI came to our camp and talked about him a bit.  He said the guy mentioned that the uniform wasn't quite as accurate as he hoped.  I wonder what clued him in?

Among our group was a new couple and their daughter, and I mentioned that they should experience a ball at least once.  In my mind, dancing is not difficult, and since it was the mainstay source of entertainment among all of that time, then we as reenactors should at least be familiar with this pastime.   They left, and after a few dances I followed to check on them--to see if they were enjoying themselves.

I found them seated and watching as Jim Ruley, the caller, announced that the next dance was the Virginia Reel--the most popular dance among reenactors.  Since they did not seem to be interested in participating, I invited their twelve-year old daughter to dance with me, at least so that I could be sure she had a chance to experience it.  She was one in particularly who had complained that she didn't know how to do the dances, but she did enjoy herself--and I succeeded in my mission.

The next day was laid-back.  Very little planned for us, other than the battle, plus the weather did not cooperate as a sputtering rain pretty much covered the day.  It was decided that something different from Saturday's battle must be done.  I thought Sgt Kletzli tried to over-think what to do.  The idea was that the 43rd TN would come out first and face the Federals for a few minutes, then we would come out and flank the Federals.  Sgt Kletzli was trying to get detail of having the cavalry cover our advance so we could better surprise the Federals, but I pointed out that though the field was a bit larger than the day before, it was still pretty small--we could easily double-quick into position and begin shooting before Federals would realize we were there.

The battle actually worked better than I thought it would--and all were satisfied with the success of that day's battle, in spite of the rain.   We made our advance after the start of the battle and encountered a group of Federal cavalry where we needed to be--and Sgt Kletzli was able to get our cavalry to push them away, so we could double-quick into position.  Fighting took us, the Federals, and the 43rd TN all over that field, with cannon blazing and cavalry charging all over.  Morgan Landis, one of the Federal cavalry shot at us with his Henry and faced us down.  But a problem we had was that we weren't supposed to take any casualties--which I didn't really understand.

My thought is that if you are going to die--die in the shade.  If you can't die in the shade, then at least die in front of the spectators.

We were right in front of the spectators.  Morgan dismounted his horse and began charging us, blazing away with his Henry.  I unloaded and took a hit.

Though Jackson Ohio was a small event, it definitely has a lot of potential if it gets some serious reenactor support.  I do hope to see this event return next year with reenactor numbers to make this event a major one for Ohio.

Video of the event
Article of the event

The Farm in Blue

Hale Farm 

Bath OH 

August 10-11, 2013 

With only Tim Ellifrit from the 1st Tennessee joining me, we decided we would try something different at Hale Farm this year.  We enjoyed ourselves last year falling in with the 5th Texas, but my old unit--the one that got me started with Civil War reenacting was also attending this year, so we decided to try galvanizing to Federal this year and join the 4th Ohio Volunteer Infantry, Company B, captained by Trent Boham.

I was unable to get a fire pit going Friday evening, so managed to borrow a shovel Saturday morning and dig one.  But because we had no pit, and many of the 4th were unable to arrive to much later, we found all the firewood supplies gone.  I debated about requisitioning some wood from a well-supplied officer across the gravel road, but I managed to get enough wood Saturday morning by foraging through the nearby woods.  Before I could get the fire started however, we found ourselves under attack by Rebel forces, in a tactical that only the officers knew about.

The 4th OVI was a member company of Birney's Division, which had their 2nd battalion present at Hale Farm.  We quickly formed up in defense of our camp, and the battalion had us quickly rushing around from one entry point of the village to another.  I recognized Col Medich of Medich Battalion hitting us from the west side of the village, and the next thing we were defending an entry at the north of the village.  The battalion seemed in disarray as at several points the 4th OVI, as 5th company in the battalion, could not be put into position to engage.  I even heard the 4th's 1st Sergeant complain about how the battalion reacted.  I just chalked it off to the indigo dye.

At one point our company faced off with the 5th Texas.  Once we fired, we charged the company.  Numbers were examined and found to be even, so victory was determined to be the 4th's by a coin toss.

I don't know who could claim victory on that tactical--but it was fun.

The afternoon battle was very different than the year before.  Last year the battle was fought in a cow pasture, and the field was full of ruts and gopher holes that made marching through a little treacherous. I had made note of that in my blog from last year, and Col Minton of the Army of the Ohio had read that and commented it would be fixed for this year.  I had expected something like plowing up the fields or something, but instead the battlefield was completely relocated.  We fought beside the battlefield in among the period buildings, through an apple orchard, through fences, defending our way back to the village.  It was nothing like the forward-and-back fighting that seems to be standard (and getting quite boring), but was something that kept us moving and reacting.  I don't know if Col Minton took notes from the success of Ohio Village or not, but whether or not he did, I must give the event credit in their creativity in making a fresh change in the way the battle was done.

Saturday I took a hit rather early, concerned about conserving my powder for Chickamauga next month.

In the evening we were a bit disappointed to find no supper for us.  The promise was for breakfast, so I cooked up the rest of my bacon and eggs, and some corn I bought along the way for supper.

Sunday I was awakened to the bugle call of reveille.   Most of the time I am up and awake--and even working on my breakfast--at daybreak, long before reveille, but I must have been particularly tired.  I got dressed and started stacked the last of the foraged wood onto the fire to get it started.  Fortunately the night before a tractor had dumped a small load of wood, providing just enough for us for the rest of the weekend, so I was able to get a good hot breakfast fire going.  Breakfast was to be "rations", and the concern was actual period-correct rations, such as hardtack, salt pork, and coffee.  Such rations may be desirable to the Civil War soldier who gets little to eat, but to us well-fed weekend reenactors who paid a rather hefty sum to be here, we were not encouraged by the term.

Cpl Waggoner led a detail to collect the rations and return them to camp.  Those rations proved to be an over-abundance of unsliced slabs of bacon, eggs, bread, and potatoes.  Our concerns were unfounded--but now we had a new problem--how to cook all this food with nothing but our small campfire.

I offered my large skillet, and someone else had a matching skillet.  We also had one small skillet for some potatoes.  Somehow I was elected to cook the food, probably because I jumped in and got started to avoid an awkward period of indecision, and to get food to my stomach faster.  One private sliced up the bacon and potatoes, and I cooked on the three skillets that completely covered our fire on the grate we had.   We decided to just hard-boil the eggs in whatever pots were available.

I started with both the large skillets frying bacon to get some good grease going.  Once one skillet was clear, we put potatoes in it and the small skillet.  I must have filled the one large skillet with bacon four or five times, while the two potato skillets were refilled another four or five times each.  Every time I emptied a skillet, members of the 4th quickly filled their plates, ready for more.  By the time I finished cooking the last, two hours had passed--and we had so much left over we munched on it all the way till even after the battle that afternoon.

The afternoon battle was similar to the day before--fighting through an apple orchard and around buildings.  We were pushed back to the village.  Moving at the double-quick, Capt Boham directed us against a fence with the command, "On the right by file into line."

This command is one that although basic, is complex enough that only the more skilled companies even attempt.  But I have never seen this command performed at the double-quick.  I'm sure if given the circumstances, that the 1st Tennessee could pull it off, but it is not something I'd expect very many companies could do at the double-quick.  I was impressed with the 4th OVI as they got into position along the fence--nailing the maneuver perfectly while at the double-quick.

A little later we were in an open area, and I used my last cap.  I was determined to go down at the next enemy volley, but suddenly the captain ordered us into a charge.  I think the entire company must have been pretty much empty of ammunition.  I'm not sure how ready that Confederate cavalry we faced were for us as their firing seemed rather slow--but they did manage to decimate the entire 4th Ohio.  I only hope it was with more than just a couple of shots.

It was an enjoyable weekend.  Tim expressed thrill about being able to come and do a Federal impression--something he hadn't done but once before, years ago.  I had done a random Federal impression here and there--such as for the Durbin Bean Bake last year, but nothing like on the scale of Hale Farm, so it was nice for a change in pace.  We will return next year--but I don't know if it'll be as Confederate or Yankee, unless the 1st Tennessee goes as a company.




Photos from the event

Rising through the Ranks

Jackson, Michigan

August 25-26, 2012

Jackson usually is an event that the 1st Tennessee shows in force, but for some reason was not voted for at the Regimental meeting.  I had debated about whether going to Jackson, or to Richmond, Kentucky, which also had a large event this same weekend.  In the end I decided on Jackson since it was an Independent Guard Battalion event and since Jackson was the event that the battalion holds its annual meeting, and since this year the battalion was holding its election for staff officers—and I was running for major for the Independent Guard.  Capt Sharp of the 1st Tennessee pointed out it might not look good for me if I was absent at these elections.

Four of us from the 1st Tennessee arrived on Friday—Sgt Jack Nyman, Cpl Jeff Carte, Pvt Zack Carte, and myself.  Enough for a few good rounds of Euchre.

Although Col. Julian had brevetted me to major at Reynoldsburg, he asked if I would be willing to allow a long-time staff member play major one last time for the Saturday battle.  Since I technically did not have the title yet, I was more than happy to step aside for him.

We fell in with 50th Virginia Company D.  They proved a great group to fall in with, although they used the face-burning Gilham’s tactics.  Captain Jim Lemon’s hospitality toward the 1st Tennessee was on a level of being more than happy we could join them.  Their numbers were also down for the event, so with our guns, it brought their size to an acceptable level for being a stand-alone company.

It is nice to have groups that are happy to have you fall in with them.  Sometimes you are not sure what they expect—I keep thinking one of these units we fall in with will think they are doing us a favor by letting us fall in with them, but so far I have not encountered that—they always seem genuinely impressed with our abilities and more than happy to share the company lines with us—and the 50th Virginia was no exception.  I watched them at Ft Wayne and was impressed with how well they performed with skirmish deployment.  At Ft Wayne I watched the 50th Virgina deploy forward in their groups of four—and it looked good.  It was good to fall in with them at Jackson.

The battalion had three companies that weekend—the minimum needed to form a battalion.  The 50th Virginia was designated 2nd and color company.

Seeing the Jackson battlefield, I couldn’t help but think of the size of Ft Wayne.  The battlefield seemed smaller than I remembered—maybe the entire Ft Wayne park would have trouble fitting in this field—but it would certainly be close.

Battalion drill helped work out some issues.  Although as private I had my own positions to worry about, I studied the Lt Colonel for where he positioned himself, to try to understand where my job would be once I was elected Major.  I am not sure where the other major was for drill—but he was only available at the battle.

As usual, I visited the sutlers—and as a quick note, they list are among the best of the year, but their numbers seemed a bit less than in the past.

Courtesy Jackson Citizen-Patriot

The battle seemed to go okay—though it was divided into two parts, and as private I was not sure what that was about.  Basically, we pounced on the Yankees, the battle was halted, we marched off the field, then a new phase in the battle resumed.  Fortunately there was no strange action like last year where a Yankee battalion marched upon a Confederate battalion and shook hands with them.   I think this year had a different Yankee commander than last.

However, I found out later that the battle scenario had gotten mucked up (at least, much more than usual).  Confederate forces were supposed to lose—we were to get decimated from an artillery barrage.  Unfortunately, the artillery ran out of ammunition, so could not launch that decimation—causing a Confederate victory.

We got some good Euchre that evening—something that had not happened much since our marathon at Nelsonville last year.  It was good to play a bit after the hiatus from it.

The weather cooperated for the weekend by keeping dry—but the heat and lack of wind seemed to stagnate the air.  Even after taking one of my allergy pills I awoke about 4 am Sunday morning hacking up a lung.  There was not much else to do other than get the campfire going and get the coffee ready.  By daybreak, the tar was ready, and it tasted better than usual.

Sunday I got to play major.  The battalion parade and drill were uneventful—but I used it to study where my place would be.  At the end of drill, the battalion was gathered for the annual meeting, where we decided to attend the GAC Gettysburg to fall in with PACS (as opposed to the BGA Gettysburg).  The battalion staff was then elected, with Col Julian being re-elected, Duane Clark being elected to the Lt Col position that he had been brevetted to after the departure of Gary Wade, and I was elected to major, filling the gap left when Lt Col Clark was brevetted.

Battalion formation for the battle was to be at 1:15, but at ten minutes to one, Col. Julian started rushing us to get ready.  I rushed over to his tent, confused as to such an early and rushed first call, only to find that the battery on the colonel’s watch had died at 12:10, and he had not realized that the hour hand was still on 12—he thought it was 1:10.  I showed him that it was only 12:50, and from that point on he made me the battalion’s official time-keeper, which proved to be a whole new problem, as I quickly learned that if I keep my watch in my vest pocket, I need to keep my frock unbuttoned.  I also learned that jute makes for a terrible substitute for a watch chain as at some point during the battle the string either broke or came untied from my vest buttonhole, causing me to lose the watch—leaving me at odds when asked the time.  Fortunately, Pvt Carte found my watch and returned it to me.

The battle was interesting to say least—and being on battalion staff puts a new perspective on the scenario.  Because of the unexpected victory yesterday, we had no idea if we were to win or lose today.  The time to start neared and Col Julian had not talked with Col Nick Medich—the overall Confederate commander—so did not know the details of the scenario for the battle, but Medich Battalion was no where to be found.  How could you hide a battalion in this park?  Col Julian even sent the Lt Colonel and myself out to find the other battalion, which we failed to do.  Col Medich finally did appear and provide Col Julian with his orders.

That's me, in the straw hat, taking my wing to flank
the Yankee hoards.
Courtesy Jackson Citizen-Patriot

Battle was again in two parts, and although the first part was exciting for me, there was not much that seemed memorable, other than we started with firing through the woods to make a bunch of noise and not be seen, then pushed the Yankees away from the captured batteries.

In the second half, we were to support Medich Battalion as they attempted to capture the Yankee artillery.  Medich Battalion ended up getting decimated and captured.  We were to retreat from the field in relative chaos.

As we closed in on the Yankees before our retreat, we lined up right at the edge of the artillery safety zone.  Artillery was firing and the captain of 3rd Company (14th South Carolina, and my entire wing) realized how unrealistic it was for there to be many survivors and so had his entire company go down at a cannon blast.  Somehow, however, one lone private of his did not quite get the message.  He was young, maybe as young as sixteen.  I told him, “You’re the only one left of your company.”  He looked around in surprise as he realized his situation.  I told him just to attach to color company, and then reported to the colonel that I no longer had a wing to command.

Getting pampered.

That heat wiped us out.  It has been a hot year, but perhaps that stagnate air wore us out more.  We returned to our camp, and Cpl Carte’s face was a red as a ripe tomato.   He usually gets pretty red after a battle, but I think he was a bit worse than usual.  The battalion’s fifer was camped with his wife next to our camp, and startled by his redness, she began pampering him with ice and wet clothes to cool him down.

Even though the battlefield at Jackson seems so terribly small for the four battalions, eight artillery pieces, and cavalry, it seems we are never at a loss for action and maneuvering.  Capt Sharp has said that he enjoys working in the tight area as it forces us to react and maneuver.  Being major I experienced what Capt Sharp meant, and I agree.  The tight area seemed to prevent the mere forward and back football maneuvering, and keeps the battle interesting for both reenactor and public.


Rising from private to major in a day is quite a change in perspective—but that is what makes this nation great.  Only in America—even if it is not Confederate.

News article of event
News article of event
Youtube video
Youtube video

The Yankee Hoards

Hale Farm
Bath Ohio

August 11-12, 2012

Most of the events we, the 1st Tennessee, go to seem to have a lack of jackets dyed in indigo.  We’ve been to events where a few of us have to change our gray over to blue so that we can have someone to shoot at.  I have wondered, “Where are all the Yankees?”

Well, I found them.

It seems they have all been hiding out in northeast Ohio. Hale Farm had them in droves.  I think we should have raced back to General Bragg to get reinforcements.

I had worked out ahead of time with Captain Greg Van Wey of the 5th Texas Company A to fall in with them so that we could guarantee we would not end up with the 7th Battalion of the Army of Northern Virginia—the battalion that left us a bad taste at Zoar last year.  He is a great captain and his unit has a lot of similarity to the 1st Tennessee, so we were a good fit.  The 5th Kentucky was also there from a last minute decision—they also were reluctant to come due to the ANV, but the corporal of the 5th Texas convinced them the ANV would not be an issue.

We love blue targets—there are not enough blue targets on the west side of Ohio where most of our events are, but at Hale Farm, we were outnumbered about four to one.

The event was on grounds that reminded us of the historic village at Sharon Woods—only on a larger scale.  There were a lot more grounds and a much larger battlefield.  We were a single battalion of four companies (which included the 5th Kentucky) against what appeared to be two full Federal battalions, not to mention too many cavalry to count, and a solid artillery force.

The morning tactical was interesting, and left me with the impression that the indigo dye must have some strange affect on the brain.  The Yankee objective for the tactical was to get at least one Yankee in the village.   We, as the Confederate defenders, had to keep every Yankee out.

Being a private for the weekend, my focus was to burn powder through my musket, but I had a good view over the unmowed battlefield.  There were several ways the Federals could take to progress to the village.  The most obvious was through the center of the large field, or they could have marched along one edge—or even found a way around the field through the woods.

Remember—they outnumbered us greatly.  They only needed to get one Yankee through.  There were a number of tactics they could have employed to get to the village—and afterwards we thought of how they could have done it.  They could have taken a platoon off around our flank along the far side of the battlefield, and there would have been nothing we could have done to stop them since we were fully occupied by the tremendous hoards of blue.

But somehow, that little concept escaped them—they simply continued a direct assault on our lines, which meant that our force blocked their path to the village, and in the end the tactical ended in a Confederate victory, although we would be pretty much decimated.  We achieved our objective in the time we had and kept the Yankees out of the village.

Christine—my musket—was not happy about the drizzle, however.  Most of Saturday morning was spent getting sneezed on by the overcast sky, and Christine had never been in that kind of weather during a battle, before.  It took a few misfires for her to get going—and she would be fine for awhile.  Then we would have to stop to maneuver, and she would get upset all over again.  I would have to coax her into getting that blackpowder to burn.

Hale Farm was a terrific event, and definitely outsized Reynoldsburg’s claim as the largest event in Ohio.  My only complaint for Hale Farm was that the battlefield was highly uneven—there were a lot of gopher holes and other ruts that we had to be careful marching through.  The coordinators might want to find a way to deal with this issue to keep someone from getting hurt.  The field was left unmowed—grass was taller than our knees.  Being very wet, I left the field soaked to the bone over all my trousers.  But tall grass is not an issue—in my opinion it makes the event more authentic, though it does make marching at the double-quick difficult.

But the event went the distance otherwise—trenches were dug for us to take cover in.  There were even a few rifle pits.  Had it not been for the lengthy and heavy recent rains, and the drizzle that lasted all of Saturday morning, we might have been more willing to dive in and make full use of those pits.    We did use the trenches for the Saturday afternoon battle, but the mud did give a bit of difficulty, though many were looking at the positive side by commenting on the patina that was added to their uniforms for the Maryland, My Maryland event coming next month.  Sunday was much dryer, so we made heavy use of those pits and trenches then.

Somehow the 5th Texas managed to significantly increase their numbers for the Sunday battle.  With three of us from the 1st Tennessee, there were a total of 24 rifles in their ranks.  It is not often you see a company that large—I do not think I have ever seen the 1st Tennessee with that many on the field at once.

Something we rarely see is a band that we can march to.  The Yankees had the Camp Chase Fife and Drums, while we had a small band with a fife and a couple of drums.  This was the first time I had experienced marching out into battle with this.  There had been the occasional young drummer boy beating cadence for us—and we were usually lucky if he had a somewhat regular tempo.  This band at Hale Farm was experienced—they did an excellent job with a series of Southern tunes.

During Sunday battalion drill, we got to experience something else that was completely new to me.  Although I have drilled forming a box around officers and defending against cavalry, I had never actually had cavalry to defend against—it was just something we drilled.  But during the drill, the Yankee cav came out to play with us—charging us at full gallop while we were in a defend against cavalry stance, stopping just five yards from us.

Reynoldsburg did outdo Hale Farm on the sutlers—but there were still a good number at Hale Farm, including a gunsmith I happened to need when my gun sight got knocked off when fixing bayonets.

Much of the spare time we had we spent trading our reenacting stories.  I had never met the 5th Texas before, and they did not know much about the 1st Tennessee.  Cpl Jeff Carte and Private Sean Swart joined me, and I was later surprised by the arrival of Pvt Tim Ellifrit for Saturday.

One way or another Hale Farm will be an event I will return to.  Having made friends with the 5th Texas, we know we will be welcome with them.  In many ways they were like the 1st Tennessee—well drilled and aggressive on the field.  I was right at home with them.  I hope I can get more of the 1st Tennessee to join us for next year.

Local TV News story
Aurora Advocate New Article

Far Away on the Mini Battlefield

Jackson, Michigan, August 27-28, 2011

Jackson is a good distance for all of us to travel—I think it is nearly five hours for me.  This is really only worthwhile for large events.  Fortunately, Jackson is a large event.  We set up camp in a distant corner of the campground, right against where the suburban neighborhood began.  Sergeant Mott selected this location as a means of both ensuring the unit would be able to camp together and to get good shade from the nearby trees.

Breaking in Lt. Sharp's new slouch hat.

Once we set up camp, we visited the large number of sutlers that opened early.  Fall Creek and the Regimental Quartermaster were both there, along with several other large sutlers.  Jackson is a great place for shopping the sutlery.   Caps were $12 for RWS and $10 for CCI.  Regimental Quartermaster had the best price with a sleeve of 10 tins of the German caps for $95.  Prices overall were disappointing—I was looking to finish out an officer’s uniform (to go with the pistol and my recent sword purchase), but the gauntlets I found at Fall Creek (which had the best price of $35) would not fit, even though they were extra large (large size gloves normally are the correct size for me). And sashes were around $40—so I decided to go with eBay instead.  I did find a good cravat, though.

The event provided pulled pork for the Saturday supper, which I am sure would have been a wonderful meal, but due to the distance from camp, we chose to prepare our own food of ham and potatoes, with corn and squash.  It was very good, and nice to not have to wait in any kind of line.

After supper Private Zack and I challenged Captain Evens and Lieutenant Sharp to a battle of Euchre.  I suppose this was to break the curse of last year’s round of Euchre (Jackson 2010 After-action report) where Sergeant Enyart was my partner—but Enyart was absent this weekend.  I believed we did not stand a chance this time.  My experience over the past year was that the only way I could defeat the Evens-Sharp team was with Enyart has my partner.  Anyone else and I could keep the match close, but I could not win.  With Zack as my partner, I honestly expected quite the whooping.

But apparently I was quite successful in training Zack up at Nelsonville with those 14 or so games.  He disposed of many of his tells, so you could no longer read him like a billboard on Times Square.  And his confidence had reached its pinnacle.  I also learned how to play better against JR and Evens over the past year.

The first of three games we did lose, but we kept it a challenged.  But the second and third games we won, still keeping the game close the entire time.  I think I taught JR one thing, too—and that was to beware of trying to bluff me.  At one point I had a hand of questionable strength and would have had to order the Ace of spades into JR’s hand.  I nearly passed on it, but then JR said, “Go ahead and order it up.”  So I did.  It turned out he was trying to bluff me—he had a loner hand in hearts.

The only trouble now with winning was that Zack and I were put on detail to guard a puddle of water in the middle of the battlefield.  Well, I guess that’s the price for beating the commanders.

And then there was the Sunday morning romantic breakfast between Lt. Sharp and Pvt Silvers.

Saturday morning I finally caught on what was meant by Battalion parade.  I had always thought of it as basically a march in front of the public—but apparently it is really nothing more than lining up as a battalion, to the rear in open order, first sergeants reporting on numbers, close ranks, then going off to drill.

During that drill we overheard an NCO of another unit spew forth all sorts of profanities at his men trying to get them in line.  Mercer commented to our captain, and I think all of us agreed, that if any of our NCOs talked to us in that way, we would head back to camp, pack up, and go home.  The biggest problem was that this was in front of the public, and the event coordinators complained to our colonel.  During Sunday drill, the colonel warned us (without naming names, even though we all knew who he was talking about) that this is not the place for that language and that it needs to be kept under control.

But as we lined up for the Sunday battle, that same unit passed by us while we were in formation and a number of their soldiers were having difficulty keeping the line.  That NCO, the second sergeant, had no pause about spewing profanities like an alcoholic on some bad liquor.  There is no way his captain could have missed that.  Even without the warning from the colonel, that sergeant should have been summarily dismissed from the battalion—told to pack his gear, and go home.  He has no business being a reenactor.  He was warned by the commanding officer, and yet he chose to ignore those instructions.  In the real military, insubordination like that can get you a dishonorable discharge.  Maybe the NCOs commanded like that 150 years ago, and maybe not, but reenactments with public attending are supposed to be family events—kids will be there and within earshot.  I will admin that private in most groups, including ours, the language is like any normal gathering of adults.  But bring kids into the picture and we do our best to keep our French under control.  The colonel was present, but I am not sure he heard that sergeant or not—but if he had, I think he should have gone to the captain of that unit and requested the sergeant be removed. 

The battle was good, but the grounds were rather, well, strange.  My biggest complaint of that battlefield is the ridiculously small size of it for the number of soldiers.  The battlefield is small for even a small event, but for the numbers we had—two battalions on each side—it was difficult to maneuver.   But this year there was another problem—the park had used heavy equipment to plow and completely reshape half the field.  Half the field was completely absent of sod, and had tons of ruts, rocks, and various mud holes to injure ankles and knees. It was better on Sunday after we had packed it down significantly from the Saturday battle.  But anyway, the battle quickly ended up not going as planned.  From what I have been told, the Federal forces were led by Shackleford, and from what I hear about him, he throws out all plans five minutes into the battle and creates his own scenario.  Although I enjoy the battle, it felt cramped.  The Yankee forces advanced far closer than felt safe.

But it was the Sunday battle that had a moment of insanity.  Overall I liked the Sunday battle better as it seemed to last longer, and we were all over the field taking advantage of holes that the Yankees gave us.  But there was one point we watched one Yankee battalion corner and advance on the other Confederate battalion.  We were all backed to the edge of the battlefield, so could pull back no further.  But the Yankees continued to advance in a scenario where the Confederates were supposed to win (the Battle of Bethel Church), although casualties were near zero.  Then the moment of insanity occurred.  The Yankee force advanced close enough to actually shake the hands of the Confederate soldiers—and that is no joke.  It looked stupid.  Both sides were in confusion—they did not know what to do.  They were too close to even load.  All they could do was stand there, admiring the color of each others’ eyes, until the commander figured out how to get out of this kerfuffle.  It was not until the federals finally pulled back that the battle could be re-engaged.

Of course, there are not many that can be blamed for such a farce.  The only one responsible was the Yankee colonel of that battalion.  Everyone else was just following orders, and the Confederate colonel was pinned with nowhere to go.  Perhaps that Yankee commander should try playing private for awhile.  I know a few privates that could better command a battalion.  Although the 1^st Tennessee was not part of that Confederate battalion, we were all wandering, “What are those Yankees thinking?”

It had to be the absolute stupidest thing I ever saw.  It was insane to see two opposing battalions standing close enough to shine their enemy’s boots, looking around, waiting for someone to figure out what to do next.  Here is an idea—the Confederate colonel could have claimed the entire Yankee battalion as their prisoners.

The thing is, the only possible thing that Yankee commander could have been thinking was how he could make the Confederate forces look foolish.  If that Confederate force had pulled back as little as fifteen yards, they would have been in our lap.  Both battalions of the Confederate forces would have been jumbled together, their artillery overrun, and would have been the farce.  And in my opinion—that’s what makes this Yankee commander as worthless as a deerfly.  He is so concerned with making others look foolish that he himself is made the fool.

Despite that disturbing moment, and the lack of space to maneuver, I thought the battle quite an enjoyable experience.  I nearly finished off my rounds, to which Mercer said, “Well, if you didn’t shoot eighteen rounds a minute, you might still have some.”  I guess I have gotten a bit quick on the reload.

And despite all the fussing I have made, I did enjoy the event.  I was even told that the announcer acknowledged our unit for the first time (apparently they acknowledged every unit but ours in the past).  The food was great and the quantity of sutlers were extraordinary.  The only real downside (other than the “N” gauge battlefield) is the distance.

Youtube video of battle
Youtube video of battle

The Red Carpet of Coshocton

August 13-14, 2011

This was the third first-year event that I have ever attended, the first being Fort Recovery last year and the second being Nelsonville last week.  Coshocton (or “Shocatoan” as Pvt Jim Kletzli says it) was a good event.  They treated the reenactors very well.  It was surprising that they supplied T-shirts, 3x5 period flags, powder rations, and showers to the registered reenactors for this free event.  I’m not sure they will be able to keep that up.  It was a small event—and I am not sure if they have much room to grow.  Again, as usual, the Confederates outnumbered the Federals, but Hale Farm is nearby the same weekend, so that did not help.  Located at the highest point of the town, next to the airport, we occasionally joked about the Confederate Air Force preparing a raid.  The airport distraction is not a problem—only small aircraft used it.  The in-town reenactments are far worse.  The event provided two good breakfasts and a Saturday dinner, all of which were very good. 

It was a disappointment that no sutlers, other than a Sassparilla vendor, made it to the event—but again, this was probably due to Hale Farm.  It’s too bad that it did not occur to even one small vendor that there would be a good opportunity for them here.

I was surprised to learn that the nine rifles that showed up for the 1^st Tennessee made the largest unit—particularly when this event was not even on our calendar (it was a free weekend).

Saturday battle went well as we joined with the 5^th Kentucky to defeat the Yankees, whose numbers were not too much less than ours.  I think the Confederate commanders are starting to learn that if we promise the Yankees to win on Sunday, they are more likely to stay for the Sunday battle.  It seems that if they win on Saturday, they tend to go home right after.

Near dusk Alabama, of the 19^th Virginia, and Private Steve Winston decided to initiate an artillery barrage on the Union forces.  Alabama pulled out his 12-pound Napolean (no, it did not fire 12 pound balls, it weighed 12 pounds) and Steve brought out his toy cannons.  It was hilarious to watch as Alabama called out artillery commands.  “Fire by battery, two second intervals.”  “Gun number one, ready.”  “Misfire on gun number two,” and then he crossed his arms over the little pea-shooter.  The union tent they were shooting at also had a toy cannon, and was kind enough to play along with return fire.  I heard that the artillery crew that was there asked, “Are they making fun of us?”

The Union forces challenged us to a Sunday morning tactical, which we were more than happy to oblige them with.  The only concern was that the prediction was for rain.  The night did bring some heavy rains with slight drizzle off-and-on in the morning, so we thought the Yankees might cancel—although I think we would have been more understanding that we were at Reynoldsburg because of how wet everything was.  But to our surprise they wanted to continue anyhow.  I discovered later that they had a bit of a tactical advantage that they wanted to use.  They had scouted out the nearby woods and knew the lay of the land the night before—we never had such an opportunity due to the lateness of the challenge.

But none of us mind that if it gets the Yankees to play.  There were some killer ravines in that woods that we climbed through trying to get behind the enemy forces while the 5^th Kentucky held them down at a clearing.  But we had a lot of fun, even if we did end up a bit late to the battle.

The Yankee numbers had dwindled for the Sunday battle, so three of us (including me) from the 1^st Tennessee galvanized to balance the numbers.  The Rebels still outnumbered the Federals, but they were about 14 blue to around 17 gray.  We started out at the bottom of the battlefield, pretty much out of site from the public.  The plan, which was made clear to us by the Federal commander, was to allow the Rebel troops to march in toward the public.  We were then to advance, pushing them more to the public.  This was obviously so that the public would get a clear view of all the soldiers.  The field was narrow, but long.  The rolling nature of the field put the Confederates at their starting position completely out of view of the public.  We took a knee at the start of the battle to take us out of view as well.  Since we did not have full Federal gear with us, the three of us basically just took off our jackets and wore blue vests to appear as militia.  To our right were the eight or so regulars, and two Henrys held position to our left.  Granted, if this battle were for real, and if the Henrys fought like they really would have back then, the two Henrys alone would have defeated the entire Rebel force on that field.  But those Henrys really seem to have no idea what they are doing out there.  There we were, waiting for the Captain to give the command to rise and advance.  The Rebels were just advancing above the first hill and turning toward the public to move into position.  All of a sudden we hear this machine-gun fire to our left.  Those blasted Henrys—against all common sense and chain of command—fired off all 17 of their rounds in under five seconds.  The 1^st Tennessee, the unit closest, had no choice but to respond.  And now, with the battle now underway, the rest of the Federals also had to react.  I looked to Big Dave, who was next to me, and said, “What the heck?”  What was wrong with those Henrys?  They basically ruined the entire battle for everyone on the field—public and reenactor alike—in less than 5 seconds.  The entire battle was found over 200 yards from the public, with most of the Confederate forces completely out of site so that it looked like the Yankees were shooting into a hole.  I still had fun—but it did not sit well with me at all that a couple of soldiers on the field are nothing but loose cannons—pretty much worthless to the reenactor community as a whole.  No—I think they really don’t have any business being on the battlefield.  Someone needs to give them lessons on chain of command and on the art of “aiming”.  It is not the fact that Henry rifles were on the field that bothered me—it is the fact that they were used solely as a means to become the center of attention.  My recommendation to any commander that reads this is that if these Henry soldiers ever end up on the battlefield again, either prohibit them or locate them such that any Confederate response will put the Confederate into the position you need them to be—instead of like the preempted position they ended up in at Coshocton.  For example, if those Henrys were placed by themselves at the top of the battlefield, near the public, the Confederate response would have moved all the action close to the public—plus those insane Henrys would have become the center-of-attention clowns they wanted to be.

But anyway—now that I have gotten that gripe out of my system—it was a good weekend.  I have seen those Henry rifles before, I have always thought little of them because of the way they machine-gun those things—I had just never seen them mess up the entire battle like that before.

I do hope they continue with this event.  They should probably move this to a different weekend than they Hale Farm event, since that is a rather large event.  For the 1^st Tennessee to return, they also need to keep it out of September, since that’s a pretty big month for us.  But I know we are looking for to next time for how well they treated us.

Cavalry Raid on the Nelsonville Train (without the horses)

This weekend was a first-year event in Nelsonville, Ohio.  We were to do an impression of dismounted cavalry and take over the train.  I did the Civil War Train Raid in Lebanon, Ohio a few years back, and it’s hard not to have this type of event be a farb fest.  But it was fun nonetheless.  Since we were to be dismounted cavalry, I got to play with Lil’ Mary (my .44 1858 Remmington) and Nicolas (my best guess is that it is some kind of American target rifle reproduction from a little before the Civil War period).  The concern was that the Confederates would heavily outnumber the Yankees (big surprise there), so a few of us, including me, came ready to galvanize.

The raid was planned for only one train ride, starting a little after 5 pm Saturday, so that left the four of us that camped Friday a lot of time to kill playing Euchre.  Most of the rest of the reenactors showed up around 3 to gear up and attend the planning meeting.

The plan was that the Rebels hide on the train in the last car (which was otherwise empty) to about halfway to one end of the line and sneak off as a few civilian reenactors got on (to give the excuse for stopping the train at an unusual point).  The train would continue to the end, where we would take the train with the public and civilian reenactors (including Doc Gill) on its way back, then ride the train to the end of the line where the full battle would be held.

Being one that was to galvanize, I boarded the train at the depot in my full Confederate gear, with my sidearm in a borrowed holster (I’m still looking for one for myself), both my Springfield and target rifle, and my Yankee blues in my knapsack on my back (try climbing into a train with all that).  When we stopped at the raid point, I left Christine (the Springfield) behind with my knapsack.  I think that’s when I realized there was only one other reenactor galvanizing.  We mulled about for the half hour it took the train to return, with Kevin Feemen asking every so often, “You got yer cards?” Okay, I like my Euchre, but we’d already gotten about 15 games in that day—couldn’t give it a rest for 30 minutes?  I was grateful that Captain Evens (or “Capt’n Sprinkles” as Private Kletzli calls him) gave orders to post us at several locations to prepare for the surprise attack—locations that kept four of us from being together at one spot.

As the train approached we were to fire off a couple of rounds to stop the train, then board it, harassing public and civilian reenactors for a bit of a show.  Somehow this was a bit different than what we ran into at McConnelsville—I guess it was the smaller number of public, or perhaps that we were not doing our standard infantry to begin with.  It just didn’t feel so awkward like McConnelsville did.  My improvisation was off that day—I did little more than look pretty, but still, I got one shot out of my pistol and one shot out of the rifle.  I wanted to get a second shot out of the rifle—but with it using #11 caps, and those were in my vest pocked underneath my jacket inside an old plastic cigar container with a tight lid, I could not exactly reload in a hurry.  It would not have mattered even if the caps were loose in a cap box—have you ever tried to prime a rifle quickly with those tiny little things?

At this point the plan was we would stop at the end of the line when Yankee artillery fired at the train.  The Rebels were to unload, where there was supposed to be a pause in the action so that the public could unload.  I was to take advantage of the pause to race to the last car where I would switch coats, hats, traps, and rifles, unload and stow my knapsack, straw hat, and target rifle in a safe place, then join the Yankee lines to shoot at all my friends.  But, the battle started as soon as I boarded that last car—I had to hurry if I were to join the fight.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if it were just the coat, but I had it in my head that I needed to use my Yankee traps—plus I still had five rounds in the side arm, so I had to relocate the holster from my belt with the Georgia frame buckle to my US belt with keeper.  I shoved my butternut shell jacket into my knapsack and almost put it on—but realized I’d probably miss the entire battle if I took the time.  When I got off the train and set my unneeded gear down, I realized I was right next to the public—I tried to give them the impression I had snuck around behind the Rebels (yeah—that’s the ticket).  Unfortunately, I didn’t see any reenactors—they were all around the buildings of the pioneer village we had stopped at.  I had no idea where the Yankee line was, so I did the only thing I could—follow the sound of musket fire.  I saw some butternut moving between buildings, so headed that direction, only to find Confederates on two sides of me—but I had the advantage as they didn’t know I was there.

It was a lot of fun—I emptied my sidearm on Sergeant Mott, who took a hit in glorious drama.  Ducking around a cottage to reload my musket, I started to a corner where a musket blast shot in front of me.  I jumped out around that corner and fired a blast toward Corporal Carte, giving him quite the surprise.

Every so often I could hear what sounded like machine-gun fire.  Then I realized it was just Flash emptying his Henry.  It was in the book, Company Aytch, that Sam Watkins talks of soldiers loading their Henrys on a Sunday and shoot all week long.  I don’t think Flash ever read that book—he loads at 4:15, then again at 4:15 and 30 seconds.

Afterwards, the event coordinators served a delicious pulled-pork meal.  It was probably among the best we’ve had this year.

We discussed ideas and tips for next year, such as seeing about locating the campsite in some shade, or somewhere where the public could interact with us in camp.  I think they should do more than the one train raid ride for the day—with nothing else going on, and with the raid so late in the day, most of the reenactors didn’t have a reason to camp when they could show up at 3 and leave by 8.

Hopefully we’ll get solid numbers next year—it’ll be nice to be able to stay in butternut next year.  It’s kind of awkward being a Confederate in blue—although Kletzli thinks I secretly enjoy it.