The Bold and the Beautiful

Gathering at Garst
Greenville OH

July 30-31, 2016

I arrived late Friday to living history area at the Garst Museum in Greenville, OH for the Gathering at Garst event.

Greenville was a quiet event, with numbers down from previous years.  We set camp with four tents in a corner of the park and relaxed the night.  Rain was a concern for the weekend, as it the sky had angrily drenched the area earlier, but we were hopeful.  The air was dense with moisture--so thick that I could see my breath even though I was drenched in sweat.

As I lay on the ground in my tent in the warm air, I felt heat pulled from me, and realized that I would be uncomfortably cold once I fell asleep.  It occurred to me that the wet ground was responsible, so I slept on top of my blanket, instead of underneath it--and maintain a cozy body temperature throughout the night.

Saturday morning came and I fried up my regular bacon and eggs.  One soldier from Arkansas asked to fall in with us for the weekend, so we gave him a home, which we later grew to regret.

Once the park opened to the public, we received a visit from a young woman interested in history, one Caitlin.  Though Capt. Sharp, having removed his rank, dominated the conversation with covering everything from the materials of our uniform to the various battles of the 1st, the rest of us provided solid contributions.  I did hope that Capt. Sharp would continue for as long as possible as it kept Ms. Clark in our presence all the more.  Her only flaw was that she would soon be moving to Virginia.

We later met with a new recruit, David, another promising student of history.

Throughout the day we presented our living history, teaching about the life of the soldier and about the history of the 1st Tennessee.

Dinner time arrived and a few of us decided to pass on keeping with period and visited a local restaurant called "Maid Rite" and feasted on sandwiches of ground beef.

Back in camp, we held casual conversations, but reached levels of annoyance with our visiting soldier.  Throughout the day, this soldier tended to interject in conversations with little to add, usually interrupting a voice of value. During our evening conversations he hijaacked the night with tirades of how he was $5,000 upside-down on his car.  I tried to change the subject by commenting how fantastic Sgt. Carte's frock was--but the guest continued on without notice.  Pvt Myers and I both vacated the area for some moments to relieve ourselves at the porcelain palace, returning nearly ten minutes later without a single point of the hijaacking missed.  I think a clue finally crept into the man's obtuse cranium when Pvt Myers and I relocated our seats away from him and around the campfire, as he finally said his goodbyes (taking some ten minutes to do so) and departing. We were relieved that he had not set a tent.

Sunday was a bit lighter, with two of our numbers unable to return for the day.  The lesser numbers had little effect, however, since there was also lesser of the public visiting our camp.  We did, however, encounter one former fireman from Tennessee who expressed interest in joining our group--I gave him our contact information and hope to hear from him soon.  We also found a young college student who plans to study history that was interested in joining up with us, and I hope to hear from him soon as well.

Our soldier guest did return, to our chagrin--at one point annoying Sgt Carte that he finally spoke up scolded him when he started down a discussion with a member of the public about Bedford Forrest--the details of such subject had no relevance to our purpose.

Overall it was a relaxing weekend, exercising some of our demonstration skills and finding several potential recruits.

Through the Woods

Sharon Woods Heritage Village
Sharonville, Ohio

Photo courtesy Cincinnati Enquirer

July 9-10, 2016

Arriving Friday at Sharon Woods Heritage Village was unremarkable.  I was the first of the company to arrive, so I found our designated campsite and pitched my tent.  A steady stream arrived, and by nightfall most of the 1st Tennessee was present.

The night was warm, so I laid my poncho under a tree near my tent and slept there, undisturbed and rather comfortable through the night.

As I cooked my morning bacon and eggs, there were concerns for a light reenactor turnout.  Although the 1st Tennessee was there in force, with numbers that included several new recruits, many of the other companies, both Confederate and Yankee, lacked the expected numbers.  Capt Sharp, breveted to colonel for the weekend as the overall Confederate commander, worked on contigency plans in the event the necessary soldiers were AWOL for the battle, including the possibility of splitting the 1st into two companies, as we had nearly 20 rifles present.

With the duties of overall command, Capt. Sharp left the military responsiblities of the company to me.  We drilled for about an hour, spending extra time with wheels since there seemed to be difficulty in keeping a straight line.

After a break of a few hours for lunch, we formed with the battalion for battle.  The scenario for both days was the Battle of Balls Bluff.  Capt. Sharp reassigned about five of the 1st Tennessee to another company to balance the numbers.  In all, we had three companies to take into battle.  Capt Sharp led the first two onto the battlefield, while I took the 1st Tennessee the other way, down a trail into the woods.  At a point where the gravel path turned away, I led them off, heading up a hill.  The steep grade proved difficult for a few, so we paused at the top to catch our breath.

Continuing, I led them through, leaving the men guessing as to our destination.  We could hear the sound of cannon and muskets as we pushed our way through untraveled brush.  We soon came through the woods onto the road, following it to the top of the hill beside the battlefield.

Carefully finding out footing on the way down the hill, we reformed at the bottom, charging out to assault the Yankees.  The other two Confederate companies were being overwhelmed by the enemy, but rallied once we provided the numbers.  We pushed the Yankees back, turning the battle and quickly gaining victory.

Once the battle concluded, a couple of Yankee soldiers ran back and forth with a litter, overwhelmed as they carried off the dead and wounded.

We had a few hours after the battle to relax and got a few games of Euchre in.  It had been awhile since we had played, so it was nice to get back to tradition.

We formed for parade and held inspection shortly after the men were given enough time to clean their muskets.

Supper included barbeque chicken and shredded beef with macaroni and cheese.

Another warm night brought morning to more bacon and eggs.  We canceled drill, so most of the morning was relaxed to hanging around the campfire and playing some Euchre.

Capt Sharp met with the Yankee commanders to discuss the battle, and informed how impressed he was by the relationship that was building.  He told me they saluted him to honor him as the planner for the battle scenario.

As the time for battle arrived, the 4th Ohio joined us, switching uniforms to galvanize as the 4th Florida.  With their numbers, we were more balanced and did not need to split off the 1st into another company.  I was surprised to get a number of requests of the 1st Tennessee to repeat the action through the woods that we had done Saturday--which provided us less time to burn powder.

After we inspected arms, I again took the men down the trail through the woods, then up the hill.  When we came onto he field, we pushed hard and fast at the double-quick after the Yankees, quickly pushing back toward the creek.

As we neared the conclusion of hostilities, one of the soldiers experienced a malfunction in his musket.  The cleaning screw of his Springfield blew out.  A couple of men next to him received a bit of the blow-out, but no one--fortunately--was hurt.  One had a small cut, while another was protected from an eyepatch he was wearing for medical reasons.

Other than that malfunction, the weekend was a solid success.  We heard reports that the battle scenario was the best ever experienced at Sharon Woods.


More photos

Slow Days

Greenville, OH

July 25-26, 2015

The Gathering at Garst in Greenville looked to be a rather relaxed event.  Capt Sharp couldn't attend due to a business conflict, and Sgt Kletzli had medical issues that kept him away.  Since this event was not part of the max-effort list of the 1st Tennessee and I had been part of getting the 1st TN at this event every year for the past 4, Capt Sharp brevetted me to Lieutenant for the weekend.

Friday evening we set up camp and I dug the fire pit, while Jeff and Trish Carte and Jon and Kiesha Farrelly set up their tents.

The night was clear and cool, and in the morning I cooked some bacon and eggs. Hank, the blacksmith and one of the event coordinators, brought in some donuts for us and supplied us with ice.

Chris Silvers arrived and set up his shelter.

Public came into the park in a slow trickle.  After awhile, Gary Evens, former captain of the 1st Tennessee, showed up in a period civilian outfit and helped us with our living history demonstrations.

The 19th Indiana Light Artillery was there along with the Rev War group the Mad River Light Artillery, and they fired their cannons every hour.

I led the four rifles in short skirmish drills three times, ending with a series of manual of arms, and stepping Cpl Silvers in loading in nine times per the Hardee's School of the Soldier.

We flew our Polk-pattern flag, and I was surprised at how it opened many conversations.  I was also surprised at how Rebel-friendly the people of Greenville seemed to be. Many expressed their gratitude for our appearance.

It was a warm night, but I slept well.  Chris Silvers complained of being assaulted by a brigade of mosquitoes, though.

In the morning I had more bacon and eggs, and donuts were provided, but the day held only the Farrellys, Carte's, Chris Silvers, and I.  Spectator turnout seemed low, so we were able to keep up.  Having only three rifles, I joined the ranks as a private with my musket during the one skirmish drill we held, but again narrated Chris Silvers performing load in nine times.

With the low numbers of spectators we had a lot of time for Euchre, so Chris determined that we try to break the record for number of games in a single day.  We only reached eight games.

It was a relaxed weekend, but we provided good education to the public, and possibly gained a recruit or two.

The Surrender

Sharon Woods Heritage Village

Sharonville, Ohio

July 11-12, 2015

Courtesy David Burns

Saturday morning at Sharon Woods was quiet.  I didn't feel like much for breakfast, so had a couple of slices of the banana nut bread and coffee the organizers offered.  The coffee wasn't my four-cups-in-one, but it was passable, and the bread was satisfying.

As we prepared for the day, Pvt Chris Wellman, a relatively new recruit for the 1st Tennessee, needed to borrow a musket.  His musket had become non-functional with a problem with his mainspring, so I loaned him Christine, my musket.  Capt Sharp, in returned, placed me as flag-bearer.

This event was solemn.  For the first time in its over 20 year history, the 1st Tennessee would be surrendering.  The event was using Appomattox as the scenario.

Since we represent a western-theater company, our 1st Tennessee, which was part of Maney's brigade, was not at Appomattox.  But Turney's brigade was, and there was a second 1st Tennessee that was part of Turney's, so we bore the flag of the Army of Northern Virginia, the St Andrew's Cross and Confederate Battle flag, instead of our flag, which was the Polk pattern flag.

We formed for parade, and Capt. Sharp gave the announcements.  The battle plan laid out, we were ready for fighting a skirmish we were to lose.

We were a battalion of three companies.  As flag bearer, I was attached to the 9th Kentucky, which was second company.  A consolidated company consisting mostly of the 13th Virginia was first company, and the 1st Tennessee was third company.

The 9th Kentucky started the fight as soon as a couple of Yankee scouts made an appearance, forming a skirmish line just outside the picket fence marking the edge of the battlefield.

We fought a hard battle, pushing the Yankees in skirmish, then pushed back to defeat.

We recovered our dead and wounded and marched off, awaiting for the results of General Lee's parley with General Grant.

Since the flag I bore belonged to Andy Enyart, I switched roles with him--he bearing the flag while I took his musket.

After a time, we marched back to the train depot.  Capt Sharp opened our ranks and had us ground arms.  Each company carried their own flags, and trailed them through the ranks.  Emotions were high.  This marked the epitome of what we reenacted.

The flags were brought to the front, and Capt Sharp ordered them furled, presented to the Yankees.

That evening held a dinner of barbecue chicken and pork.

Sunday morning introduced us to a deluge.  Rain flooded the camps starting around 5 am and proceeding through the seven o'clock hour.  Many of the tents were flooded inside and out.

I was among the lucky.  Instead of setting up a tent, I chose to sleep on the back porch of one of the homes.  It was well sheltered from the rain, and all my gear remained dry.

Due to the drenching rain, many of the reenactors left before the gates opened to the public.

A good number stayed, however, but there were insufficient numbers to hold a battle, so we presented a living history.

Among the scenarios that remained included Lee's surrender.  The event coordinator needed someone to portray Col. Marshall and Sgt Tucker, who were part of the surrender.  Capt Sharp asked me if I would portray Col Marshall, and gave me his coat, while Sgt Kletzli portrayed Tucker.

A narrator spoke through the script, and we, with Generals Lee and Grant walked into the home to give the impression of the signing of the surrender.  I felt a bit of emotion to go through this, even participating in a little period small-talk with the Lee impressionist.

The event was a good experience, one that enlightened us to this time of turmoil.

A Quiet Living History

Greenville OH

July 26-27, 2014

It seems to every event I attend, I forget one item of importance.  I forgot my skillet at Sharon Woods, so had to borrow a skillet to fry my food.  This weekend—I forgot my food.

After a rough night in my shelter due to allergies from the weather change, we had some donuts provided by the event.  Capt Sharp had plenty of extra bacon and corn meal, but required I cook the food if I were to share in it.  With the extra bacon grease, J.R. mixed in corn meal and water to make a sort-of pancake.

Most of the day Pvt John Farrelly gave the living history education to the spectators as they wandered through our camp, though we also drilled some to test Sgt Kletzli at command and put us in skirmish drills.

Being a timeline event, there were reenactors from every time period between the French and Indian War to the Civil War.  One of the groups there was a Yankee Civil War artillery group, who brought their cannon, but never fired it.  Three other artillery groups were there and fired their cannons.  One of the members of this group—I think they were something like “Ohio Valley Civil War Association”—was overheard by Sgt Kletzli to say to a spectator that it was disrespectful for a Confederate group to be there, as if we should try to forget half of America.  I don’t really know who that reenactor thinks he is or if he is representative of his organization—but the very comment left me with an extreme negative opinion of the group.  This was our third year here and their first, and what about representing a part of our history is disrespectful?  It advertised a level of stupidity of that group—the comment was highly offensive.

At supper, we wandered to the vendor area, where I purchased a gyro from a good selection.

Taking a slight break from the Civil War, J.R. and Tim Ellifrit introduced a bit of the other time-period they reenact by bringing a bazooka to test fire for a D-Day reenactment, after the public had dwindled for the evening.  I'm a little worried about the pictures we might see from this--a Civil War Confederate launching a bazooka.  It was cool to see--but at the same time, "farb" is going to be a comment we hear.  Well--it was out for just a short time, at least.  We went back to normal after they were done playing.

Evening came with the threat of thunderstorms and lightning flashed through the skies, but only a light rain washed the ground for about twenty minutes.  We gathered under a fly and J.R. read from an obituary he found of Colonel Hume Field, who served as commander over the 1st Tennessee Infantry during the Civil War.  It was fascinating to hear the story from another perspective.

I slept a little better that night, but still felt a bit like a zombie in the morning.  More donuts, and J.R. brought out salt pork, which he first boiled once to get much of the salt out, then battered them in flour and fried them in the bacon grease from Saturday’s breakfast, followed by more corn meal cakes.  I finally learned how to properly cook salt pork.

We held a couple of speed-shooting competitions for the spectators.

We drilled some, this time with Sgt Nyman in command, again with more skirmish drills.

The weekend did seem to go quickly, but perhaps it was because I felt I was in too much a daze from allergy problems.  It was an enjoyable weekend, and the organizers treated us exceptionally well—I look forward to returning next year.

Slow Yankees

Sharon Woods

Sharonville, Ohio

July 12-13, 2014

It was hot, and I was tired, so I tossed the very minimum of needs into my car for Sharon Woods, opting for a dog, my officer’s uniform, and basic gear.  I was in such a mood that I forgot completely to pack my skillet and eating utensils.

I set my dog as a shebang, hanging the ends over the front to provide a bit of extra shelter.  So long as it didn’t rain, it was plenty.  I set up against a tree to use the mulch for the soft ground, though it was sloped bad, so made it feel like I’d roll away if I wasn’t careful.

J.R. Sharp worked with Chris Edwards for most of the scenario planning.  Dave Julian took overall Confederate command, which gave me the opportunity to come as battalion major.

The 4th Ohio came to galvanize to help us with the expected low Confederate numbers.  The 9th Kentucky was also there in force.  The Confederate Marines was there as our artillery.

We formed for morning parade and I had a bit of difficulty getting them on line.  Working with the colonel, I determined that my problem was in not enforcing the companies to bring their guides to the line.  I was following a shortcut I had seen in having them simply dress to each other.

We were supposed to lose the battle Saturday, starting deep into the village and be pushed back to the field.  But the Yankees moved like a drunk slug.  It was clear they would not take ground from us—we would have to pull back and give it to them.

The battle went sluggish—the Yankees only advancing when we pulled back to give them ground.  Once we were finally pushed into the field, the men ran low on ammunition.  But the Yankees stopped to parlez, so the battle ended with us holding the field.

Supper was noodles and salad—a bit of a let-down from Ohio Village, but the meal from Ohio Village cannot be topped.

After supper, I relaxed awhile.  We could hear the music of the ball, and eventually Keisha Farelly came to me and asked if I could dance with Cheyenne, Trish Carte’s five year old granddaughter.

Making a child happy is always a good thing.  I took the short toddler to the dance floor, but the dance we were to do was the Spanish Waltz, a somewhat complex dance difficult to teach to beginners.  I tried working with her a bit with Keisha and John (who also were beginners at the period dance), and found failure.  Cheyenne was easily distracted and confused—we were making no progress—so I pulled us out to wait for the next dance.

The next dance was rather simple, being similar to the Virginia Reel, called the Liberty Reel.  It was energetic, and by the end of the dance I was drenched in sweat, but Cheyenne loved the dance.

I slept somewhat well.    The day went pretty quiet, with a couple games of Euchre.

We formed for battle.  There was a rather huge amount of attrition in the Yankee numbers, so the 4th Ohio switched to blue.

The battle started at the train depot, and was to push us back to the hill where we would defend and win.  This time the Yankees pushed much better, but clearly the 4th Ohio was also a significant portion of the Yankees we faced.

We were pushed back to the field and made a rush to the woods to make our stand.  Unfortunately, as we prepared our fight, lightning strikes nearby unsettled some of the soldiers.  Personally, I thought it was a bit early to call the fight, but the threat of electrocution was a bit too much, so we ended the fight there.

The Cold of July

Gathering at Garst

Greenville OH

July 27-28, 2013

Since when do you need a blanket in July?  The nights were actually cold, dipping near to the 40s.  Whatever happened to summer?  I hadn’t fully prepared for cold weather, so was a bit chilled.  I was fortunate that my poncho helped with most of the lack of heat.

Who needs Pvt Winston, when Sgt Kletzli is there to start the fire?

A handful of us from the 1st Tennessee Co B made our way to Greenville for the Gathering at Garst timeline event and set up camp at the end of the row that was marked for military impressions.  In the line was the 4th Indiana Light Artillery, followed by the Mad River Light Artillery, then us.   I made a point of switching ends so that we would not be cramped up against the edge and path, and also to get us away from the horse that Sgt Kletzli kept calling “Dog Food” last year.

So, no more questions of being allowed to pet the horse, a question that had become ingrained in my psyche since last year.

Our numbers were down a bit from last year, and we avoided a forced skirmish against the artillery, opting instead to focus on living history, demonstrating the life of the soldier, and providing shooting demonstrations.  Pvt Quinn Marcotte really shined in this area, pretty much taking over the talking to the spectators, while the rest of us watched, answering only the occasional question.  There were a few breaks, but there was a near constant flow of spectators ambling through camp.  Capt Sharp, Pvt Marcotte, and I all ran through a speed shoot to show we can do that three rounds per minute.  I choked on that time as my ramrod stuck in the stock on the second shot.

We enjoyed perusing the sutlers as well.  Their merchandise was more geared toward Revolutionary War materials, which would not have been inappropriate for an occasional piece for us.  It was different from what we were used to seeing, and was a pleasant change.

It was a pleasant, laid-back weekend for us.  And we saw potential for the event in the future.  I heard rumors of other Civil War units interested in attending next year, so next year holds promise of some serious skirmishing.  There were plenty of areas for us to work with to provide something different from the usual.

Article about event

Rain and the Battlefield

150th Commemoration, Battle of Buffington Island

Portland, OH

July 20-21, 2013

Our camp, with us preparing to drill. Courtesy Martin Unrue.

Friday night arrival through torrential downpours revealed an empty park where the event was held.  We set up camp in a back corner.

Buffington Island is Ohio’s only Civil War battlefield, and this was to be the 150th commemoration.  Unfortunately, there seemed a lack of interest among reenactors.  There were two small groups of Federals, one of the units was members of the 76th OVI.  The total Federals matched our numbers of about 12.

It seemed sad to me, as I had heard of spectacular event some years back for Buffington Island, and for the fact that this was the 150th commemoration of the only battle in Ohio.  But I looked forward to the time with my friends.

Awakened by Reveille.  Photo courtesy Martin Unrue  

Saturday held a basic ceremony, and we provided a firing salute with the Yankees.  We had planned to perhaps have a small skirmish with the Yankees.  But unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate.  At first the winds whipped up, where the Yankees decided to pack up, followed by torrential rains.  We kept semi-dry underneath Kletzli’s fly.

That evening, Capt Sharp took us through some safety issues and training to fix some of the issues encountered at Gettysburg.

Sunday wasn’t much better for rain—most of the morning brought a soaking experience.  But we did get a good breakfast from the coordinators. Once the rain finally cleared, we went through the manual of arms.  A small crowd gathered, so we switch to a bit of drill, segueing to skirmish drill, firing as we advanced.  At one point, we neared the sutlers’ tents, and one of the sutlers popped a few rounds at us through the tent flaps.

It was a slow weekend, but we enjoyed each other’s company.

Book about Morgan's Raid

A Day of Dance

Wilmington, OH

July 13, 2013

After a long week at Gettysburg, it was nice to have a simple event at Wilmington, Ohio.  The event was a single-day living history commemorating the 150th anniversary of the invasion of General John Morgan into Ohio.

A few Yankee exhibitors set up at various locations on the lawn around the Wilmington courthouse, one a bugler displaying several antique bugles.  Another demonstrating Civil War medicine.  The 1st Ohio Light Artillery was there with a statehouse cannon.

My day was spent calling dances.  It was a little difficult to plan for since I figured this was to be more geared for demonstrating to spectators that it was for holding a ball.  I had no idea how many reenactors I would have as dancers.  I was told there were some from Pioneer Village coming, but I never saw them.

Fortunately, there were three couples in period dress that showed up for dancing.  I had seen these couples quite often at various balls.  For lack of a better term, a good way to describe them seems to be “Dance Groupies”, as whenever they hear of a ball, they are there to dance.  This turned out to be a great bonus for me, as I have no idea how I would have had any dances without them.

Harpist for the Dedication Band.  Courtesy Wilmington College 

 For the morning, the dulcimer band from Pioneer Village—The Dedication Band—performed.  The “ball”, for lack of a better term, was rather unstructured—I basically asked the dancers what dances they would like to do.  We experimented with some dances I tend to avoid at Civil War balls as they are different enough from what Civil War reenactors are used to that they tend to be difficult to teach.  But with our small numbers and these being rather experienced dancers, we were able to pull the dances off well.

Whenever I did simpler dances, I tried to pull in whatever spectators were willing, to have them participate in the dance.  The first dance we did was the Virginia Reel, and I couldn’t get any gentleman to participate, but an elderly lady was overjoyed at my invitation to be my partner.  She commented how she remembered dancing this dance when she was in school.

Probably the most interesting was my attempt at calling Soldier’s Joy.  This dance is normally done with a good number of couples—at least eight—in a large circle, with every two couples forming their own dance square, with couples progressing around the circle as the dance progressed.  The problem was, we had a mere four couples—not enough to form a circle.  So we got a little creative with the progression.  We got it to work, and it went well, though I have to thank one of the dancers for the idea of how to get it to work.

Courtesy Wilmington College

At noon, we had a two-hour break before the next set.  The Dedication Band was done for the day, so invited me to join them for lunch at the General Denver Hotel, just a block down the street.  And yes, Denver, Colorado was named for General Denver, apparently.  It had a small eating area, and the wait was long, but the food was good.

I did have to rush out to get back to the courthouse for the start of the dancing at 2 pm.  There I met up with the Hitchhikers Band that would be performing for the rest of the day.  They had a different repertoire, focusing more around Gaelic music.  They had no dulcimers like the Dedication Band, but instead had a few woodwinds (flute, pennywhistle, and clarinet) and a guitar.

At one point I saw a group of kids sitting on the courthouse steps and managed to get them all in a mixer dance I like to do called "Pinreel".  It is a great dance to do for kids, and they seemed to enjoy it.

Courtesy Wilmington College

With the Dedication Band, it was early and only a two-hour stretch, but with Hitchhikers Band, it was in the heat of the day, no shade, and a three-hour stretch.  Nearing the last hour, I found myself running out of dances to call, thinking I should probably find more to add to my own repertoire, particularly ones that are easy to teach and easy to fit to any song.  I managed to squeeze in a popular dance called “Gay Gordons”, which I normally have done to “Scotland the Brave”, but the Hitchhikers Band didn’t know that song, so I had them play a medley between “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” and a song of their choosing.  I didn’t expect them to blend it with “Irish Washerwoman”, but it worked.

Over the last hour, there were few spectators, and the dancers had worn out and gone home, so there was little for me to do.  I told the band to play anything at their discretion.  The bugler would occasionally echo a song the band played, using his own style when they finished the song.  And occasionally the band would play a song back to the bugler when he led.

Article: http://www.wilmington.edu/news/Crowds-Enjoy-Wilmingtons-Civil-War-Day.cfm

The Best and Worst of Times, Part 4

GAC 150th Commemoration, Battle of Gettysburg

Gettysburg, PA

July 3-7, 2013

Day 6: The Charge: Deploy the Belgians!

Courtesy J.R. Sharp

The last day of the event was a quiet morning.  We had all day with nothing to do be pack up and rest.  The battle was not until 3 pm.  At seven in the morning, we had a photo shoot for the brigade, but it was optional.  We had just enough of the Independent Guard represented to acknowledge that we were there—the battalion staff and a handful of the 50th VA to carry the colors.  Just before taking the wagons to the photo shoot at the battleground, I was talking with the colonel, and in mid-sentence, I started losing my voice.  It was as if I were entering puberty—it cracked and creaked.  From that point on for the rest of the day, I had trouble being heard.  I was able to make it through the battle by forcing my voice, sounding angry as I pushed by vocal cords beyond their limits.  Capt Sharp nearly went into shock when I shouted at him to get his attention—he thought I was about to rip him apart for something, when I was just trying to push past the laryngitis to be heard.

As I’m sure many units experienced, many of the units of the Independent Guard Battalion had visitors fall in with them.  The 1st Tennessee had a couple of guys try to fall in as they were forming up for the Pickett’s Charge battle, and that is a bad idea.  Most units worth their salt with eject reenactors that fall-in without warning.  The general rule of thumb is that if you don’t drill with a unit, you don’t play with that unit.  I caught one of those guys trying to fall in, asked Capt Sharp if he recognized the guy, and pulled him out, sending him to any other unit down the line.  I’m not sure if he found a unit, but I doubt it.  The reason for this is safety concerns—there was no time to drill the guy to see if he was even capable, and his weapon could not be inspected.  All of us reenactors have heard nightmares of some yahoo sneaking into the ranks with a musket with a live round, shooting someone for real on the field.  The entire IG staff stands behind its companies to support this philosophy.

But we did have a number of reenactors contact us ahead of time to arrange to fall in with us.  The 5th KY had someone as far away as Denmark.  I suspect the 50th VA had a few, along with the 10th TN.  The 1st TN had a guy from Utah, along with three from Belgium.

The Belgians were quite the experience. Back in Belgium, they did ACW reenacting, along with Renaissance period reenacting.  It was a bit humorous to imagine the two combined, so the joke became that we’d just send the Belgians after them.  “Deploy the Belgians!” became the catch-phrase.

For Pickett’s Charge, most units were not supposed to go over the wall—only Armistead’s brigades went over in history.  But two special companies were formed with select members from each company to go over the wall.  There were enough open spots that the 1st Tennessee selected the three Belgians to go, as an honor to them.

The Army of Northern Virginia (ANV) division—First Division—at the top of the hill was in charge of those companies.  During the morning, someone came around and said that the company had to be formed immediately for drill—if they did not drill, they would not be going over the wall.  All of us in the battalion staff were a bit perturbed we were not informed there would be drill earlier.  Having drill made sense, but not informing anyone ahead of time did not.  It seemed rather suspicious—like perhaps there was intent to leave out any non-ANV reenactors.

We did manage to get the word around about drill, and the Belgians rushed up the hill.  They told us later that drill was a bit goofy, with commands that included “Check shoelaces”.  Their opinion was that there was a bit of a lack of skill there.  The Belgians agreed that our group was better.

The day overall was pretty slow—many packed their gear up.  A lot of reenactors from other units across the field broke the rules and brought their cars in to pack up—we were only allowed to bring cars in after the afternoon battle started, yet it seemed more than three quarters of the camps had at least one vehicle parked in it by noon.  The 1st TN obeyed the rules, and I believe the other units of the IG also did, though I made no note of it.  It did mess up our experience a bit, but at least we obeyed the rules.

We marched out for the battle, waiting in the sun for the moment to start at the edge of the battlefield.  A couple of generals stood with General Julian—I didn’t know who they were, but one must have had a wireless telegraph communication with General Pickett as he talked into a device he held to his ear within site of the spectators, oblivious to the Yankee entrenchment forming at the wall in the distance.

We began our march, halting to fire once, then marching in echelon in columns of two across a bridge over the semi-dry creek.  Once across, we reformed the battalion and fired some more at the Yankees on the wall.  The 1st TN all went down quickly, leaving us with parts of three companies. We advanced further to the split-rail fence and we struggled with that fence.  Some of us tried to push it over, but its posts were buried too deep, so we had to pull the rails out of their supports.  I climbed over to see if I could help others over, but at this point, we were in total chaos.  The 5th KY advanced to the right, while the 50th VA advanced to the left, leaving me in the middle all alone.  I took a hit like I was shot with a machine gun and landed on my tin cup, pretty much destroying it.  It’ll make a good prop on my haversack, but I’ll never be drinking out of it again.  I thought I might as well look like a good severely wounded soldier and started dragging myself with my sword to the rear, leaving my right leg limp.

The battle ended and I followed the sergeant-major back to camp.  The rest of the 1st Tennessee pretty much walked straight to their cars and headed off.  About a third of the way back, it started raining for the first time all week.  It seemed it was saving up for this moment, because it was not just a light drizzle—it was a torrent.  By the time I arrived in camp, I was drenched to the bone, pouring a puddle of water off the rim of my hat.

Joe shared my tent all week, and we had originally planned to stay the night there, but decided we might do better finding a hotel instead.  While I waited for a break in the rain, we talked with the Belgians, who were going to camp overnight to leave in the morning.  The Belgians told us that the unit they fell in with was prohibited from going over the wall since they did not get to drill—perhaps my suspicions were correct?  I reported this to Colonel Clark.  I’m sure the report got up the command chain from there, but I don’t know what will come of it. The Belgians did say that the unit that made it over the wall shouted something on the order of, “We are the elite!!”  Sounds like they were a company of children.

At the first break in the rain, I sloshed to my car and brought it back to camp, pretty much tossing everything in, not worrying about anything but being able to shut my truck.  Everything was soaked, and all would have to come out when I got home to dry out.  Joe and I led the Belgians and Dancing Dave to York PA where the rest of the crew had a hotel room.  We all trucked out to a restaurant called “Smokey Bones” and enjoyed a rather entertaining night with those Belgians.

J.R. was kind enough to let Joe and I use their shower before dinner, but Joe had left his brogans in the room when we went to eat, so we had to return to their hotel to retrieve them, while everyone else waited at the restaurant.  When we arrived at the hotel, Joe pulled out that Civil War plaque he had obtained from that guy in Gettysburg that let us take a shortcut through his yard for the Pickett’s Charge on the Battleground park.  A devious idea crossed his mind, and he took the plaque up to the hotel room with him, leaving it under J.R.’s pillow as he retrieved his brogans.

On our return to Gettysburg to get to our own hotel, we got a text from J.R.

That plaque now hangs in J.R.’s wall.

Day 7: Antietam/Sharpsburg

It was now Monday.  The GAC Gettysburg 150th Commemoration was now over, and an eight hour drive waited for us.  But the Antietam (or Sharpsburg, if you are die-hard Confederate) Battlefield was only about an hour drive away, and Joe had more than one area of Civil War battlefield expertise, so offered the Belgians, Dancing Dave, and I a tour of the battlefield of the bloodiest day in American history.

I actually found this tour more interesting than the tour of the Gettysburg battlefield, though I’m not sure if it was because Sharpsburg was only a one day battle, or because of the overall simplicity of the tour (only taking three hours) over Gettysburg (which took several days).  We covered the three main parts of the battle, starting with the Cornfield, proceeding through the Sunken Road, and ending at Burnsides Bridge.   I studied the land and could imagine the soldiers in the fight.  As I examined that steep hill with two rifle pits high up, from where the Confederates defended Burnsides Bridge, I imagined the rain of lead the Yankees encountered as they tried many times to take that bridge.

Conclusion

The GAC Gettysburg was definitely an event to remember.  I enjoyed myself thoroughly.  But it was Quinn who said, “I think I like the smaller events better.”  Our fun at Gettysburg came more from the camaraderie of friends spending time together, than from the action of the battles.  Those battles had their place, but they didn’t have the thrill we find at the smaller events, where it might be just our battalion, maybe one more, and anything can happen (and usually does), in spite of the planned scenario. With an event the size of Gettysburg, we are locked into our specific place, the scenario must closely follow the history (even though it still gets blown)—so it’s more of a disappointment when plans go awry, as the battle for us is more for the history.  At the smaller events, it’s just a basic, typical skirmish, so the history that is laid at a particular battle is irrelevant, plus we have the camaraderie of each other.

Basic video of the last day: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k60yVvO6MgY
Videos of Pickett's Charge:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7_LzBFAIps

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0GbLJGW6BI

http://usiavideo.smugmug.com/CivilWarReenactments-4/150th-Gettysburg-Videos/30502995_GGrcwv#!i=2630838666&k=5mfK9NC&lb=1&s=A

News articles:
http://www.nbcphiladelphia.com/news/local/At-Gettysburg-150-Sides-Still-Being-Taken-214283411.html
http://www.npr.org/2013/07/03/198388728/gettysburg-swells-as-throngs-mark-civil-wars-turning-point

Courtesy Matt Rourke, Associated Press

The Best and Worst of Times, Part 3

GAC 150th Commemoration, The Battle of Gettysburg

Gettysburg, PA

July 3-7, 2013

Day 5: Bivouacked

Saturday arrived, and we had already fulfilled a normal reenactment, but we were only halfway through this one.

I again fried up my bacon and eggs—I brought a lot of bacon and eggs with me—and enjoyed a quiet morning.

One thing I had failed to mention was that the first day we had a bugler in our brigade echoing the commands of General Julian. Unfortunately, though it seemed like a cool idea, there were certain inherent problems with this concept. The first being that none of us knew any of the bugle calls. It was therefore nothing but some mood music while we battled. The second problem was that since we were 2nd battalion of a three battalion brigade, the general and the bugler were stationed immediately behind us. So, the general would give his command, with the bugler blaring in our ears, and there was some difficulty in hearing the voice commands. It would have been great if we had some idea what the bugle calls were. Several respectfully requested at the next officer’s meeting if the bugler could find a better place to shove his horn.

So, for the morning battle, we had no mood music. But we had to wait in the sun by the grandstands for about an hour before the battle began. I wish I knew what the delay was—but at least there was a water buffalo nearby, and I kept suggesting to the captains to keep the canteens all full. Even I, with two canteens, had to refill one of mine. That is one thing I learned about nationals—two canteens are better than one. Through every battle I finished off one and got about halfway through the second.

When the battle finally started, we advanced onto the field away from the grandstand. We did not move far from that location, but we pushed forward against what seemed insurmountable odds. I don’t really know where the other Confederate brigades were, but they had to be somewhere—though I did hear the entire ANV division decided to rest for the morning. I guess that left us to fend off the Yankee hoards.

We were toe-to-toe with the Yankees, and a dismounted cavalry unit in front of us extended their lines, extending around our flank. Capt Sharp expressed concerns they were beginning to surround us, so I told him to go ahead and extend his line as well, as he refused our flank—we couldn’t have the Yankees surround us. Our other flank was in no better shape—we lost our left wing and were refusing that flank as well with the little we had left.

Somehow, we pulled through the battle, but it seems we had unknowing help from another of our battalions—they were situated so that the Yankees were caught in a crossfire, coming up behind the Yankees before us. It wasn't until the end of the battle that we could even see the other battalion.

Resting between battles.  Courtesy J.R. Sharp

The 1st Tennessee was the worse for wear at the end of this battle. Twice there were shots fired by privates in unsafe positions in the chaos, getting pvt Jared Springer’s eardrum blown own and Joe Bellas ear rung. Joe sat out the evening battle to recover, but Jared had to be taken to the hospital for examination. Jared seems to come through okay, but was pretty much done for the rest of the weekend, only able to watch from the sidelines.

Having learned about how wearing the march back to camp was, the battalion decided to bivouac on the battlefield in a nice shady area. This saved us—I don’t think any of us could have participated in the evening battle had we not rested in the shade. A water buffalo was handy in that shade, allowing us to keep well hydrated. We were going to have to leave the area once the Yankees started forming up on the battlefield, as we were at the location the

Courtesy J.R. Sharp

Yankees were to start. But we still had several hours, and it gave a chance for a few to visit the sutlers.

There was a bit of sucking up to General Julian, as Bob Mergle of the 5th KY retrieved the general’s favorite treat of Hawaiian Ice, and Jim Kletzli of the 1st TN gave him sips of Peach Schnapps. I couldn’t tell you who won out there—it was tough competition. I think one of them came up with an idea of Peach Schnapps Hawaiian Ice as the ultimate treat for the general.

We enjoyed watching some live mortar fire. It was interesting to watch, particularly from our perspective, as the mortars were being fired in our direction. Fortunately, the mortars fell short by several hundred yards. But the last shot apparently had a special charge added and landed a earth-rumbling blast about a hundred yards from our location.

(Video of live mortar shot: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OE6VN29iQ7M)

As we waited, we saw the ANV division march through, fresh from their long morning rest. We soon followed them to the staging area where we would begin the fight for the afternoon battle.

(Video of ANV arrival: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HnQBi5FiQTE)

It was a fight that I feel left a bit of a sour taste. We marched until we were out of site of one set of grandstands, all the way back to the woods where we had bivouacked. We seemed to advance a bit close to the Yankees that had entrenched in the woods, but all the Confederate brigades had them in matched lines. The whole battle just seemed a bit “off”. Once we reached that close location, the Yankees in front of us ceased firing and stood at attention. The 1st TN waited for some company fire and all took hits. We pulled back and stood and waited. At some point, someone told me that some Yankees were throwing vulgar and obscene insults at us. One Confederate from another battalion ran up to the Yankees, running up and down their lines throwing insults back at them.

I kept expecting the bugler to blow taps to indicate the end of the battle, but it never came. As we stood, us not firing, they not firing, I lost my adrenaline. Not long after I took a hit and just stayed out—I was spent, and the battle really wasn’t fun anymore, anyhow.

Next time: Day 6: The Charge--Deploy the Belgians!

The Best and Worst of Times, Part 2

GAC 150th Commemoration, Battle of Gettysburg

Gettysburg, PA

July 3-7, 2013

Day 2: The Tour

Joe Bellas giving the tour.  Courtesy Cookie Owens 

Most of the rest of the 1st Tennessee arrived around 3 am Wednesday morning, renting a hotel room for a couple of the wives to stay at, but crashing there until they could come and pitch a shebang on the campgrounds.  I was delighted to learn just how knowledgeable Joe Bellas was about the Battle of Gettysburg.  It turns out that he is a high school history teacher with a focus on the Civil War.  He even told me that he passed the National Park Service exam for becoming a tour guide of the battlefield, but simply did not get the certificate as it would require him to give paid tours, which would require him to be away from home for extended periods.  He took the company around the battleground of Gettysburg and gave us the stories of the battle.  It was a personal tour better than we could have ever gotten from anyone else.  We spent the morning and most of the afternoon touring the battlefield, covering only the first day of the battle.

Shortly before 3 pm we headed over to the field where Pickett’s charge occurred.  Since today was the 3rd of July, 3 pm was 150 years to the minute from when General Pickett started his charge.  If you know your history, you might be saying, “But 2 pm was when the charge started.”  Yes, that is true, but Daylight Savings time had not been invented 150 years ago, so technically when we were stepping off to start the charge when our watches said it was 3, it was really 2 according to the way the Civil War period tracked time.

We parked our cars for heading over to the charge on a residential street.  The owner of the house where we parked came out and met us.  He was a friendly gentleman, happy to see us.  He directed us to a shortcut to the field through his backyard into the woods.  That shortcut saved just enough time for us to get to the start just in time, but it was still a mile from our cars.

We had hoped to march independently, just our unit.  But the park service would not allow us to do that.  We had to march with one of the groups forming up.  We found off to one side of the field and formed up to the left of another Confederate unit that formed there, with a brigade in front of us. The march began and that other unit and us marched in formation, with many in modern clothes following along.  We approached several fence rows with openings, and J.R. maneuvered us behind the rest of the battalion to get us through the opening, then back into position at the left of the battalion.

(Video of the march, thanks to Cookie Owens: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10201404623743724)

The march continued without stopping, nearly the full mile length, getting ever closer to the rock wall the Yankees defended 150 years ago.  We halted about thirty yards from the wall, about the distance the furthest the regiment of Confederates would have reached from this position.

Courtesy Jared Springer

J.R. said he could not have gone further.  It was a long march, and it was a long return.  We stopped at the Tennessee monument to get pictures, then return the rest of the mile back to our cars. We hiked through those woods behind that gentleman’s home, putting in a total of about four miles on our off day.


Trish Carte was thirsty, so Joe Bellas asked the gentleman for a glass of water for her.  Joe talked with that gentleman for awhile, and before we knew it, the gentleman had gone into his house and returned with a Civil War wall plaque with both Confederate and Yankee flags, and presented it to Joe.  It was quite a surprise.

By this time it was getting late, so we ate at another branch of the Appalachian Brewery, returning to camp for the night.

The 1st inspected their muskets, and I gave them mine to inspect.  Because of a number of visitors we had that were falling in with us for the weekend, we loaned out five muskets, mine included.  It was a good thing I had mine inspected, as it failed.  It turned out both the tumbler and sear spring had gone bad.

Day 3: The Event Starts

Courtesy J.R. Sharp

The second morning began with bacon and eggs and four cups in one of my coffee.  We had morning meetings.  We formed for parade, performed weapons inspection, then proceeded on a long march to the field of the first battle.  The scenario called for us to win (1st day struggle, Willoughby Run), but the Yankee forces were tough.  We advanced to the creek, but we kept losing our numbers, while the Yankee Kevlar was impenetrable.  I don’t think a single Yankee fell, and we were quickly dropping in numbers.  In the distance, we could see the Yankee camps, and we watched as an entire Yankee brigade marched from the camps to the field.  We were in trouble, no chance of success.  1st company (the 1st Tennessee) broke, running to cover in the rear.  2nd company (5th Kentucky) was gone.  I have no idea what happened to 4th company (10th Tennessee).  Only a handful of the 50th Virginia (3rd company) remained.  I ordered 3rd company to a single rank to widen our line.  Captain Sharp of 1st company managed to get a few of his men back, but requested of Brigadier General Julian that the battalion retreat.  However, General Julian said, “Why should we retreat?  They’re falling back.”

Sure enough, the Yankees, still full in numbers, were falling back.  The battle was soon over, our victory assured.

Yeah, sometimes the scenario has a mind of its own.

The march back was exhausting.  Just as long, but now uphill.  I crashed back at camp, stripping down to my shirt and cooled off as best as I could.  Most of the 1st TN were too beat to return to the evening battle, so chose to instead get more touring of the Gettysburg Battlefield, with Joe Bellas as their guide.

Like most companies at Gettysburg, we had a number of visitors fall in with us for the weekend, including three from Belgium.  The Belgians decided to stay behind to fall in with the 5th KY for the evening battle.  I also stayed for the evening battle.

We marched to the field for the evening battle. The length of the march was far longer than the morning battle—it was probably as far as we could have marched and still be in Adams County PA.

We stacked arms, and as the scheduled time to start, we took arms and waited.  The we open ordered and ground arms and waited some more.  The we took arms, then rest.  Wait and wait and wait.  Finally, a tractor came with a tank of water, so I ordered the captains to send details to refill canteens.  Probably an hour after the scheduled time, we finally started the march into battle.  I found out later the reason for the long wait was that the ANV battalion had arrived over an hour before the start of the battle and used up all their water.  They refused to start the battle until they were resupplied with water.

But anyway, we marched out and quickly encountered resistance.  Across the entire field, heading toward the grandstand where the spectators sat, we pushed the Yankees.  The company directly in front of us was always the last to fall back, causing our battalion to always be behind the other battalions and brigades as we advanced.  That company made a final retreat, faced us, and then stood at attention.  As we continued to fire upon them, a Yankee brigade marched in columns of four in front of that Yankee company, proceeding off the field back to their camps.

I guess it was time to go to bed or something.  Maybe that delay at the beginning got them tired of playing.

Video of evening battle

Weird day.

Anyway, I made it back to camp and crashed again.  After I cooled off, I threw an ear of corn on the fire and a can of Chef Boy-R-D ravioli into my skillet.  It was a good feast.

Day 4: Indigo Messes with the Head

Bacon and eggs again for breakfast.  I was well supplied.  I must have been the best fed soldier in the battalion.

Fortunately, we only had an evening battle, so I spent the morning with the 1st TN perusing through the sutlers.  There was quite a large number of them, but we quickly blasted through them.  I think we all have started to reach the point that we feel like we have seen all that could be bought and have all that we need.

I stopped at James Country where I had Trish Carte and Lindsay Sharp deliver my musket yesterday for repair while I was in battle.

James Country really took care of Christine.  The repair cost was reasonable.  I had thought that the problem was only the sear spring, but he also found a problem with the tumbler and replaced it.  He also suggested I replaced the main spring.

The evening battle was interesting.  The brigade came onto the field and we quickly were faced with a Yankee brigade.  To the left of our brigade was another Confederate brigade.

Courtesy J.R. Sharp

While we fought, I watched while a Yankee battalion pushed that brigade to our left back.  And it kept pushing.  Before I knew it, that Yankee battalion was beside us.  General Julian expressed concerns that it would flank us, but it was apparently completely focused on that brigade in front of them.  They kept going.

I started wondering what they were thinking.  It must have been another case of the Indigo dye messing with the Yankees’ brains.  Before long, third battalion of our brigade (the battalion to our immediate left) took advantage of the situation and slide in behind the Yankee battalion, putting them in a crossfire.  Third battalion proceeded to shoot the Yankees in the back, but that Kevlar just held strong.  After awhile the third battalion figured out that the Yankees had no idea they were being hit from behind, so marched to the Yankee’s flank and fired hard to penetrate that Kevlar.

In the meantime, we were shooting toe-to-toe at the Yankees in front of us.  With third battalion preoccupied, our numbers were a little thin, but we were okay so long as first battalion was to our right.  They are too our right, yes?  Where did they go?  For some reason, first battalion decided to retreat. Okay, now we had a problem.

We were left hanging in the middle of nowhere, fully exposed to a brigade of Yankees. General Julian told me something, and I somehow got it all wrong. While General Julian went back to that battalion to get them, I ran in front of our battalion and ordered them forward.  I only brought them about five feet forward, but I know I freaked out just about everyone.  I really don’t know why I thought that was a good idea, because I looked at all those Yankees and suddenly realized just how bad a situation we were in.  I think I’ll chalk that up to confusion and insanity.  All that indigo dye in front of us must have messed with my head.

Well, dinner held more ravioli and corn.  I think I must be about the only soldier to have gained weight that week.

Video of Friday evening battle (the "Wheatfield")


Next time: Day 5: Bivouacked

The Best and Worst of Times, Part 1

GAC 150th Commemoration, Battle of Gettysburg

Gettysburg, PA

July 3-7, 2013

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity…”

That quote from Dicken’s A Tale of Two Cities gives a good description of my opinion of the Gettysburg Anniversary Committee’s (GAC) Gettysburg reenactment.  I qualify this as the GAC Gettysburg, since there were two of them, the other put on by the Blue-Gray Alliance (BGA) the week before.  I missed that one, so I only know how it went based on rumors that got to me.

The GAC Gettysburg had its moments, both good and bad.

Day 1: The Trip and Setup

The event started early for me.  Tuesday morning July 2, I drove with Joe Bellas as my passenger through the mountains of Maryland to reach Gettysburg.  It was a beautiful drive, along with avoiding toll roads.  Upon arriving at registration after the seven and a half hour drive, we bought a couple of souvenirs, then headed to the campsite.

We took our time setting up camp—the event did not start until Thursday the 4th, so we were going to take it easy.  Things were going well, everything as smooth as could be, but then I realized I did not have my car key on me.  Somehow, I must have dropped it.  Joe and I looked everywhere for it, combing through grass.  I had taken it off my key chain to put my other keys away, and that turned out to be my demise.  Colonel Duane Clark (normally our Lt. Colonel) and most of the rest of the battalion staff had already set up their camp and came down to help.  It must have taken us two hours of searching, while I continued to unpack my car in the hopes of finding it dropped in my gear.

Finally, at the point of giving up, I phoned the local dealership to see what it would take to get a replacement key.  Discouragement came upon me when I hung up as I realized it could pretty much ruin my week—requiring my car to be towed in, along with the costs of replacements.  But despair almost immediately turned to joy as the Colonel reached under the chair I was sitting in, and asked while pulling out an object, “Is this your key?”

I have no idea how we could have missed it.  It was as if it had latched itself to the backside of my trousers or something—but there it was.  I gave the Colonel a good bear hug and thanked him tremendously.  Lt John Porter, the battalion’s adjutant, got some string for me, and for the remainder of the week, that key was either around my neck, or in one of my boxes under my cot.

Joe and I ate supper with Dancing Dave Rothert a local restaurant called The Appalachian Brewery.  It was a good, hefty meal, not far from the campgrounds.

Back in camp I was looking forward to a good week.  I had been brevetted to Lt Colonel for the event, and I hoped I could meet the challenge.

Next time: Day 2: The Tour

Can I Pet the Horse?

Greenville, OH
July 28-29,2012

The horse was called Norman.

I arrived at my usual time Friday evening at the Garst Museum in Greenville, Ohio.  Being the first to arrive and the contact for the unit with the event coordinators, I met with the blacksmith, who (with one other) was the living history organizer for the event.

Since this was a timeline event and the Civil War needed to be kept together, he took me to the 4th Indiana Light Artillery.  Since we represented the opposing side in our War of Northern Aggression, he suggested a nice little corner under the shade near the artillery unit.  Between us was a small space where a horse was going to be hitched.

I made sure to give a wide berth to the area so the horse would not be trampling my tent. Cpl Carte and Sgt Nyman camped beside me.

The timeline event had reenactors all the way from the French and Indian War to the American Civil War.  Numbers were small, but that is generally to be expected at an event in its second year.  The horse belonged to an old friend of my from my days in Revolutionary War reenacting—one Cindy Jackson.

The horse was fine overall—my only complaint was that it must have thought it was a rooster as it decided to make a 4:30 am wake-up call.

Besides our living history area, the event also had a festival of sorts across the street from us where various vendors and artisans sold their modern wares.  They even had a Beatles tribute band play for a while at 7 pm Saturday evening.  None of this was an issue for us as it was completely separated from the living history area, and the noise was not noticeable.

“Can I pet the horse?”

Before the event I kept in communication with Rob Frost, commander of the 4th Indiana Light Artillery.  We gave some ideas of our numbers and sketched out some rough scenarios we could have for a skirmish.  Since his was the only Union unit there, and we were the only Confederate unit, and we were infantry and his was artillery, we discussed the possibility of some of us galvanizing Federal to provide infantry support, and he galvanizing a cannon to give us artillery support.  But neither of us had quite the turn-out we were hoping, so we worked it out that we would each stay with our units, and the 1st Tennessee would attack a gun.  Since we had about 10 for Saturday and would be losing a lot for Sunday, we decided the 1st would win on Saturday, and then all die a glorious and dramatic death on Sunday. Some of 4th seemed reluctant to play due to the low turnout, but we could make something happen.  I never turn down an opportunity to burn powder.

“Can I pet the horse?”

I saw many of Rev War guys I knew—I was surprised to learn that the Mad River Light Artillery works closely with 4th Indiana—many members of both units.  Some of the Mad River Light Artillery were old friends of mine—I even was their powder monkey once at a battle at the Fair at New Boston.

“Can I pet the horse?”

Since our unit only infantry unit there, and since I was the one to organize getting infantry unit there, I somehow ended up Confederate commander.  Sgt Mott came without stripes (intentionally), and Sgt Nyman, Cpl Carte, and Cpl Kletzli all conceded command to me.  My rule of thumb at auxiliary events such as this is this (those not voted on by the company at the Regimental Meeting), is that all officers and NCOs attending the event keep their rank, with highest rank in attendance holding command.  All have the option to relinquish their rank for the event—as it is sometimes more relaxing not to worry about the responsibility of the rank.  As private, I am last in line for command on these auxiliary events, although since I organize them, I am first in line among the privates.  Sgt Mott suggested that since I am shooting for Major on the Independent Guard Battalion, I should have the experience—so after ensuring all NCOs agreed, I took command for Saturday.

It was good experience.

“Can I pet the horse?”

The breakfast both days held a good choice of donuts with coffee, but I also fried my bacon and eggs.

There were a few sutlers, though more geared for the Rev War period, but the blacksmith had a good choice of items.  The Annie Oakley Festival also in town same weekend (on the fairgrounds on the opposite end of town), so we got lots of public from festival coming here.

“Can I pet the horse?”

Which brings me to the main problem with camping next to a horse.

“Can I pet the horse?”

Every member of the public, and I do mean every, seemed very interested in that horse.  Every time someone passed by our camp, which was very frequently since we were right on the main footpath, they would stop at the horse and ask us if they could pet it—or perhaps ask some other question about the horse.

“Can I pet the horse?”

So, for every time we were asked that question, we had to give the same answer.

“It’s not our horse.”

It gave me an endearing sympathy for the cavalry units.  We were always nice enough to direct them to Cindy, who finally told us that anyone could pet the horse—they just needed to watch that the horse didn’t step on them.

“Can I pet the horse?”

The Cannon demonstrations started at 10am for every two hours, with the one at 2pm scheduled the same time as our skirmish.  So we planned to take to the field and attack at the end of that demonstration.

“Can I pet the horse?”

We drilled twice for about ten minutes each before the skirmish, blowing some powder to show off a little to public. I realized halfway through I never called a single manual of arms—then started calling the shoulder arms part.

“Can I pet the horse?”

The time came for the skirmish and we marched to our start.  I asked Sgt/Pvt Mott to sing a tune on way.  I had prepared him ahead of time if he could do one—and he was ready only for either “Eliza Jane” or “Pick a Bail of Cotton”. I told him to choose based on how much he wished to annoy Cpl Kletzli.  Apparently he had a high desire for annoyance—he chose “Pick a Bail of Cotton”.

“Can I pet the horse?”

At the far end of the battlefield, Kletzli and Mott found a trail that led to the flank of the artillery, so they took Pvt Mercer down trail to wait for us and provide a nice surprise.

We advanced on field, swinging to opposite flank in a skirmish line.  I made mistake of putting Pvt Jackson Nyman on left end of my line.  To shift to left side of field, several times I ordered “to the left flank, by files right, march”.  But each time I got this strange look from Pvt Nyman as if he were asking, “You want me to do WHAT?”  I’ll have to remember that each end of the line must have a skilled private, if I don’t have an NCO to put there.

“Can I pet the horse?”
Other than a few minor difficulties, the battle went well—they moved the small mountain howitzer into position to fight us. The howitzer misfired a few times, and I was trying to drag things out, so I took my time advancing my line.  At the appointed time, Mott’s crew advanced onto the field from the opposite flank, and we had them in a good crossfire.  One of the Rev War regulars from the 6-pound Rev cannon assisted the Howizter by firing his flintlock at us, which had only slightly better reliability than that howitzer.

When I finally thought that the battle had dragged on long enough (I really have no idea how long we went), I waited for a final successful shot from the cannon and then ordered and advance at the double-quick to take the gun.  Pvt Ellifrit’s only disappointment was that he could not take a hit since he never had anyone shooting at him.

“Can I pet the horse?”

We lost all but four of us after the skirmish.  No supper was provided, but vendors on the grounds across the street did have a good selection.  I had a pork chop sandwich.  Cpl Carte had a buffalo burger.  One of the organizers allowed us into the museum to explore a bit—which was good to see.  Overall the organizers were great—free ice, showers, and porcelain.

“Can I pet the horse?”

As there were only four of us Sunday, I carried a rifle for the battle and gave Sgt Nyman the command.  We knew we would lose, so Sgt Nyman, Cpl Carte, and I all made a devious little plan for Pvt Nyman (Sgt Nyman’s son).  We decided that at the right time, we would all die, and not tell Pvt Nyman.  Basically, Pvt Nyman was to be the last man standing.  I don’t think any of us had any real idea what he might do.

“Can I pet the horse?”

We followed the trail around the field Kletzli and Mott found on Saturday and awaited for the demonstration artillery fire, then took the field.  Spread out as skirmishers, the four of us advanced quickly as we fired.  The artillery fired once from the six-pounder Napolean gun, and we advanced some more.  Then the Revolutionary War cannon gave us a surprised as they joined the fight with a blast from their six-pounder.  Two shots—the third was when we were supposed to die.  The Civil War gun prepared their second shot, and I and Cpl Carte drifted toward Sgt Nyman so the cannon could make a good kill shot (oops—the Rev War gun wasn’t supposed to count).  The three of us went down at the gun’s blast, leaving Pvt Nyman, in a state of total confusion.  I heard a good applause from the crowd—they liked our dramatic deaths.  Pvt Nyman at least did not give up any ground—he scrambled to the edge of the woods and continued with some pot shots at the artillery.  The Civil War Napolean turned toward Nyman and made a final blast, taking the private down.

“Can I pet the horse?”

It was a good event—we had a great time. Simple breakfast was the only provided food, but as long as we know in advance, I am okay with that.  Our starving private suggested they add a Saturday meal—they were unaware that is the standard for most events, so they said they would consider it for next year.  I know we will be back.

And yes, you can pet the horse—his name is Norman.  Just watch that you don’t let it step on you.

Local article about event

Where's the Park?

Fort Wayne, IN

July 14-15, 2012

We had never been to this event in Fort Wayne, known as the Camp Allen Muster.  I stumbled across this one by accident looking for alternative events last year.  It was scheduled the same time as our usual event at McConnelsville, OH, but when it came up for a vote at our Regimental meeting, somehow Fort Wayne won out.  Capt Sharp had his concerns, since we knew nothing about the event.  All we really knew of it was that there were picture’s on the park’s website of members of the 19th Virginia from past events.  I had looked at the satellite view of the park from Google Maps, and the site looked of reasonable size.

But that Google Maps thing can really be deceiving.

The 1st TN attacking the fort. Nearly the entire park is in view.

I arrived Friday.  I drove up Spy Run Drive where the park was located and could see some of the fort buildings, so I knew I was at the site.  I saw what looked like some kind of private access road into the park with red wooden barricades, so thought the main entrance was perhaps up a bit.  I drove all the way up to the next streetlight, and there was nothing.  I turned to go around where the park was and passed by a gravel driveway at a trailhead, but nothing to indicate an entrance to the park.  I drove all the way around the park and came back to that access road.  I did not know what else to do, so I turned down the road.  About fifty feet down I came to a stop and asked a couple setting up an apparent sutler tent about registration and who I need to talk to, to which they pointed me in the right direction.  I looked around at the park—at the fort which took about one third of the panorama, the access road, which was really a large walkway, that went along a river on the left side, forking in front of my car to lead directly to the fort about one hundred feet in front of me, and I noted two buildings beside me.  It looked neat, but I kept wondering where the rest of the park was.  I could not imagine where I would even park my car, much less where some tents might be set up.

Except—that was the entire park.  Okay, we had complained about the small battlefield at Jackson, Michigan.  Four battalions fight on that battlefield and barely have room to maneuver.  Well, this entire park in Fort Wayne, Indiana, would fit in that battlefield in Michigan.  We figured this was probably about the size of the park we have to work with at the Durbin Bean Bake.

About sixteen (eleven rifles) of 1st Tennessee showed up.  The 50th Virginia was also there, although they had no privates arrive—all were NCOs or officers.  I guess they ended up demoting a few of them.  Major Duane (last name) of the Independent Guard was there, falling in the 50th VA, his old unit.  The Federal force was the 44th Indiana, who I do not think I had ever met before.  In total, there were about twenty soldiers per side. Col Julian of the Independent Guard was also there.  Col Julian did ask if I was going to join him on the battalion staff, but Capt Sharp needed the rifles, so I informed him I would be a private under JR this weekend.

Col Julian asked if he could play captain over the combined Confederate force, as a company, and asked Capt Sharp if he would play Lieutenant.  JR was rather reluctant, but he agreed in order to please his colonel.

We drilled for a bit on Saturday as a combined company.  Capt Sharp did not think Col. Julian had ever been a captain of a company, to which I replied that perhaps he was using this event as an excuse to try out being a captain.  It is a bit different from being colonel, and I know that in reenacting it is always enjoyable to experience something new.

Our drill soon turned into a skirmish as the Federals decided to intrude on our drill.  It was certainly refreshing seeing blue coats itching to play with us.

The main battle started not long after our drill.   There is not much to say about what happened, since the area is so small to work in.  The Federals pushed out from fort.  We pushed back—the rebels won.

JR took us through a lot of drill later, but we needed it, and it was good.  We worked out a few more kinks.

A fire ban provided an unfortunate experience.  Due to the drought we have been experiencing, we were not allowed a campfire. This meant no hot water for coffee or cleaning guns, and no bacon and eggs for breakfast (which is a staple for me).  The fire ban was not the fault of the park—it is just something that happens.  They were kind enough to provide coffee and a continental breakfast for us.  Some of us used the hose to flush cold water through their guns.  The park officials allowed us access to hot faucet water, and suggested possibly running water through the coffee makers to get near boiling water, which I think a few of us did.  I simply used my fallback method of using nothing but blackpowder solvent when hot water is not available—takes a bit longer and uses a lot more cleaning patches, but mine comes out the cleanest gun.  I had even bet Capt Sharp that he could not get a mark on my hand from rubbing the ramrod end into the breach of my rifle—a bet I won.

Saturday supper was catered fried and baked chicken, with the reenactors providing potluck sides.  It was a good meal.

Cpl Moore (Girth) and Pvt Springer (Mercer) spent some time that evening with the Federals that stationed in the fort.  When they returned some time after dark, they were excited about the 44th Indiana.  “These are like the best Federals ever!” they said.  They even said that if they had not liked JR and 1st Tennessee so much, they would be Federal with the 44th.  The fort had fans, TVs refrigerators—all the modern conveniences.  The 44th were enjoying pizza.  Girth and Mercer were harping on how cool all that was—this coming from the guys who always campaign next to the campfire every night.

Capt Sharp with Little Pud, his prize from the festival.

One major negative of this event is that occurred during some kind of major festival of some sort.  This festival, which had a rock concert every evening (which at least ended by 11 pm).  The festival was tolerable even though it was across the river from us, but it would have been nice if was not there.  An air boat gave rides down the river, which was not tolerable—every time air boat came past he opened up the throttle and drowned out all other sounds, even our own thoughts.  However, the coordinators did say they were looking at rescheduling the event for the end of October in 2013.  We gave the some tips on how to avoid conflicts with our schedule and with significant events.

There were some issues of parking cars—they had us park either across the street or around the corner, both of which competed against the festival.  One car vandalized, so they allowed us to park cars within the park, which was patrolled.  I would strongly recommend parking within the park during the night—if they continue to allow that—and then parking in one of the lots in the morning.

The public walked through the park, following the trail all day, starting at daybreak, going to late at night, never trying closing.  The security was there to prevent any issues.

Sunday was much more laid back.  No morning drill, and nothing planned until the battalion—er company drill—at 1 pm.  The drill was little more than marching around the park and firing at the fort.  The battle started shortly after.  It started with us in possession of the fort and the Federals trying to drive us out.  The final objective was for us to take their artillery piece.  One thing is for sure—the 44th Indiana does like to play.  We sometimes have a hard time finding blue targets that like to give us a challenge.  I hope we run into the 44th again.

Although the park was small—you really could not have more than 40 or so reenactors—it was an excellent event.  There is no hope to see cavalry there due to it’s small size.  The festival was a problem, along with the airboat rides that stormed up and down the river, but the coordinators are looking at changing the date of the event to late October in 2013, so the festival and other noise issues should not be around.  It is located just north of downtown Fort Wayne, so security is a bit important.  They let us park our cars on the grounds (right by our tents) overnight where a security guard patrolled, and I would strongly recommend doing so, and the relocating the cars back to the parking lot in the morning.  This event was opposite McConnelsville, which is what we usually do on this date, so I asked Capt Sharp which event he thought was better—he gave his vote for Fort Wayne.  A powder bounty was also given to us, much to our surprise, which equated to about a third of a pound each.

I think we all had a good time at this event.  The big events with something planned every hour have their place and are enjoyable, but these small events give us time to spend together.  I am sure Fort Wayne is an event we will attend again.