Ambush in the Village

As I go into my experience at Pioneer Village, I would just like to say that many seem to treat my writings as after-action reports.  They really aren't.  They are merely my observations, sometimes opinions, of the sequence of events that occur.  They are my perspective on things--and nothing more.  When I go to an event as a private, there are many things hidden from me, so I see things often at the lowest level, and never the big picture.  When I go as a battalion officer--I see things from a different perspective--but again since I'm not in charge, the whole picture is not always available to me.  Large national events have thousands of reenactors--but I am only going to be exposed to a minute fraction of that number, so my story only reflects that corner of the picture.  Even with small events I rarely interact with the Yankee side--or if I galvanize, I would not see the Confederate side, so at best, my story is only half the picture.  I also mean no offense to the parties I write about, but occasionally I do step on some toes.  My goal with this blog is to primarily write about my experience, but also, as a secondary goal, to better the hobby.  I do sometimes let my emotions control what I write, not always thinking through the ramifications.  I apologize if you take offense at what I write and ask to look beyond what is offending you and at what you can do to fix problems that get noted; I would love to return to an event with issues I note and find those issues corrected.  If you wish to discuss matters with me, feel free to send me a note on my contact page--I am willing to listen to anything you have to say, so long as you keep it civil.  It is not without precedent for me to alter to my writings.

I am continually surprised by the growing popularity of my blog, receiving the occasional compliment for it--that someone is actually reading it--so I am not yet used to the idea of just how much care I must take with what I write.    These United States is a great country, where I am free to write what I want, but with that great freedom does come great responsibility, and a true exercise of freedom is to execute true responsibility.

With that said, Pioneer Village started on good footing.  I arrived early Friday morning to assist Joe Bellas with his high school class in a bit of living history--and possible recruitment.  The kids were bright and inquisitive.  Shawn Swart, Jim Kletzli, Chris Silvers, and I all assisted in demonstrating a life of the soldier--even giving the a bit of drill.

Saturday brought a sunny and warm day.  The morning was quiet.  For the afternoon battle we tried what we did for Ohio Village, which was to continue the scenario beyond the battle and have a medical scenario take care of the dead and wounded.  

It started with Jared Springer and I on picket duty.  Suddenly, from the woods behind our camp, several shots were fired by the 7th Kansas.  They descended upon us with shouts of alarm as the 1st TN formed the company to respond--they had just given the first call and had hardly started equipping themselves when the fighting started.

We were pushed back, and then the rest of the Federal forces joined the field, but in the end, we pushed them from the field and won the day.

After the battle, we carried wounded off toward a tree for Doc Gill to tend to.  James Sturkler was one of the dead.  George Moore came to his friend and said a prayer over him, then balled over him theatrically.  We stripped him of his gear, then carried him off the field.  We gave the spectators a taste of the horrors of war.

That evening we enjoyed a superb dinner with the 7th Kansas.

A little while after supper and after a cannon nightfire, I called the ball.  The dancing went well, with about a third more dancers than the year before.  I stood with most of my tried-and-true dances, but did try a new one I learned called "The Irish Quadrille".  I had never even seen a quadrille prior to the Jackson MI, but I took notes at Jackson and was able to teach it pretty well.  There were a significant number of new dancers, so I had a bit more work teaching the dances, but it was an enjoyable evening.

Sunday started on a mournful note.  Michael Hernandez, commander of the 9th Kentucky, passed away about a month ago, so both Federals and Confederates came together to perform a memorial ceremony in his honor.  I did not have much exposure to the man, but the few times I met him, he was a good man.  I served under him a couple of times at Monroe, and he was on my wing at Perryville, when I was on the battalion staff.  I could see that he will be long missed.  My regret is not having the chance to get to know him better.

Beginning with that ceremony, the sun never shone that day.  It even drizzled a little in sorrow for him.

At one point during the day, the captain of the 7th Kansas came over to discuss matters with Capt Sharp when we heard gunfire. It appeared that some of our men engaged members of the 7th KS in an impromptu skirmish.  Capt Sharp seized on the opportunity and took the 7th KS captain at gunpoint over to the fighting, instructing the 7th KS to lay down arms, and they would be allowed to leave the field with their captain.

But, the 7th KS had other ideas.  Their captain ordered them to open fire, taking a hit with the first volley.  Skirmishing continued for awhile, until some from another Federal unit decided to join in.  Fighting was quickly halted when Sgt Kletzli realized they were pulling their ramrods, which is an extremely dangerous situation.

The battle began later that afternoon.  As guest commanders, Gary Evens and Edd Sharp were brought in to participate.  The 9th KY handled the left side of the battlefield, with the 1st TN handling the right.

Things just went sour from there.  I'm not real sure what went wrong, and I can't really do it justice.

At least Hartford City in two weeks will be a new start.

One Weekend--Two Spring Drills

April 13-14

Fort Recovery OH

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

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

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

"Wherever you want."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pioneer Village, Caesar's Creek, Waynesville OH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, okay, that was interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taking a Hit

Pioneer Village
Caesar's Creek
Waynesville, OH

Courtesy Civil War Sites

When I finally crashed on Friday evening at Pioneer Village in Caesar's Creek, I was reminded of sleeping under the street lights of Grove City.

But this time there was no electricity-there were no street lights.  It was the light of the full moon that gave the appearance of dusk all night long.

There was a definite lack of indigo-dyed coats at the event. I came prepared to galvanize, along with a few others, but we were fortunate enough to have a handful of Yankees to play with.

Capt Sharp was trying a few different things this weekend.  For Saturday, Sgt Mott played private or corporal or something, and Cpl Kletzli was brevetted to 1st Sergeant.  James Sturkler fell in with us as Lieutenant.

Due to the lack of blue targets, there did not seem to be much to the skirmish.  We came out on right by file into line, then advanced. We quickly deployed into skirmish lines and broke the company into separate platoons, ending with the first platoon-the platoon I was in-pinned down by cannon.  With the battery distracted with us, Lt Sturkler walked up with 2nd platoon from their flank and said, "Hi!" to the artillery crew, finishing the fight.

Much beyond that, I spent a portion of the day preparing for the ball, as I was to call it that night.  The ladies of the 1st served us a terrific fried chicken dinner.  The event probably served something, but I do not think it would compare to that fried chicken.

I do not call dances very often, but that is all I really desire.  Pioneer Village is of a perfect size for calling the kind of balls I like, so I am grateful to be given the opportunity here.

One dance I do not particularly care for is one called, "The Hat Dance".  I always try to skip it, but every time someone always requests it.  I think I am going to give up any thoughts of skipping it from now on.

In the past I have stayed with familiar dances as most already know them, so they are easy to teach.  This time, however, I tried a few new ones.  The crowd wore out before I could get to all the dances I planned, so I was only able to get to two new ones, one called "The Irish Washerwoman" and the other "The Physical Snob".

I had called the Irish Washerwoman once, something like seven years ago, but it is an easy dance to a tune of the same name.  The band had that song on their repertoire, so I thought it would be good to bring this dance up.

I had forgotten how simple the dance was.  Basically, four couples form a circle, march to the center, tap four times, back out, swing the corner, then promenade the partner.  There were enough dancers for two circles, and after about the first or second time, each circle started counting their taps.

It was not long, and at some point the circles somehow got out of sync, where one circle was counting just after the second circle.  It soon became a competition-the first circle counting to four, the second counting from five through eight, the first then counting nine to twelve, etc.  Soon it was a competition to see who could come up with the most creative counting means-such as switching to Spanish or German, or rattling off the words to "100 Bottles of Beer".  I think those dancers had more fun on that simple dance than any other.

The Physical Snob was a dance I had never called before, but it was not complex.  Unfortunately most of the crowd had left (it was after ten and getting late), so I did not have much to work with.  It called for three couples to form a line, and all I had to work with were five gentlemen and a lady.  The ladies are always complaining there are not enough men to dance with-they missed their opportunity here.  They were all relatively inexperienced dancers, but we still had fun with the dance, but I realized it was time to bring the ball to a close and had the band play the last waltz.

Courtesy Civil War Sites

Sunday was a new day with a new 1st Sergeant.  Capt Sharp brevetted Cpl Carte and returned Cpl Kletzli to his position.

Capt. Sharp's whole point of giving turns at 1st Sergeant was to give experience with it.  Although for Perryville next week I will be a bit out-of-touch with the inside of the 1st Tennessee as I will be on battalion staff, I'm sure Sgt Mott will return to his role as 1st Sergeant for such a significant event.

The skirmish scenario for Sunday was to be a continuation of Saturday, and worked out surprisingly well.  We won Saturday, so it was the Yankee's turn to win, but since our numbers were so much greater than Yankees, we had to set ourselves up to be in a bit of a state of confusion.  2nd platoon foraged for supplies through the village buildings, using our own gear and supplies as the bounty, while 1st platoon (where I was) passed the time with a game of Euchre on period cards.  And since they were period cards, Capt Sharp stayed out of the game-he complains that it is too difficult to tell difference between the different face cards.  Someone keeps suggesting I write a "K" or a "J" beside the faces, but would that not defeat the purpose of using period cards?

During the battle, I finished off my rounds as we pulled back to our camp, and then waited for a rifle fire to take a hit.

Jen Mott said my hit was spectacular.  Except that it felt like I jarred my teeth loose from my jaw.  Somehow, during my fall, I managed to rifle-butt myself in my chin with my musket.  As I laid in agony, I felt my chin to make sure everything was still in place-and had a bit of a shock when I found my fingers covered in blood after feeling something wet on my chin.  This was not a pleasant moment-there I lay, concerned I may actually be in a position to have to call for a medic-and the last thing I wanted was to get everyone mad at me for stopping the battle for a simple bump.  I glanced to one of the houses and saw Doc Gill standing in back and hoped to get his attention, but he was preoccupied becoming part of the scenario as the Yankees stormed forward.  Fortunately, when I pulled out my rag to blot the blood, Trish Carte came over with a damp cloth to help me out.  The injury was not bad-though I have a nasty-looking gash in my chin and an aching jaw, but otherwise I was unharmed.

I believe this event was better than the previous year, and I hope it continues to improve by attracting more Yankees.  The coordinators have already invited me to call next year's ball, so unless something comes up, I will return.