Tales of Events

Since I am not an reenactor but I love hearing tales about events I thought I'd attempt a new thread. One where ya'll can tell us poor folks what we are missing. Tell us your adventures, where you been, what you ate, how you felt...anything at all....

YMOS
tommy

[johan_steele]

June 1863

My Dearest Sister

I must give you the hard news first. I found myself the recipient of a wound this weekend last. As I have written before, the War does not wait or pause for the Lords Sabbath. You must take heart, the surgeon says that I shall recover. With but a little time for rest I will soon be back among my gallant comrades.
It is unbearably hot here in the secesh states, you might think the Lord himself wishes us to work hard for our victory. I think the Mosquitoes are upon the Secesh side as they make it hot for us on picket duty. Our foes are a hard sort but can be gallant at times as well. Saturday last there was a skirmish where our Cavalry cut a telegraph line and captured perhaps a platoon of secesh soldiers. The Secesh civilians had the Cavalry hang a murderer who had been hiding among them. A man hanged is not a pleasant site to see. The Secesh prisoners were a sullen lot and we should have taken heed to their warnings that we could not take Vicksburg by direct assault. In the afternoon, we attempted an assault on their works. I do not know how many men were involved but the loss was grievous. We were well supported by field guns and they seemed to do frightful demonstration among the enemy works. Two Companies of the Regiment were deployed as skirmishers and we managed to drive in the enemy pickets. Yet, when we crested a small hill the enemy opened on us with a hitherto unknown gun with telling effect.
Some of the men broke and ran but they were only a few; most showed their mettle and fought with brave resolve. I was near our second Sergeant when he was killed. He was standing fire with us one moment and on the ground the next. Our Corporal was also wounded; I saw him wandering as though his wits were lost. The surgeon called it a concussion. A private next to me refused to withdraw when the order came to fall back and had to be dragged from the field by a Corporal. Private Steele, who took a grazing shot to the leg, came back from the Surgeon station and fought on in the line. Another Private who was shot in the head came back into the fight as well, the brave fellow fell out and died on the field when we withdrew later. We managed to silence the gun but Secesh Infantry rallied to its support. It was then that we seemed to take the most casualties. Two Captains and a Lieutenant were mortally wounded and the Colonel was struck in the arm. Along with our second Sergeant, that was a most heartfelt loss. The Colonel and both Captains were hard in the fight and did not flinch at the danger. I am proud to serve beside men such as those and hope that their replacements will be as gallant.
Young Private Phillip did good service as a runner braving the fire several times to take messages from the skirmish line to the artillery. He is well and you should tell his mother he is serving proudly. I am not certain of his father as I have not seen him since the battle and fear the worst. Young Phillip is quiet and did not eat anything at our Sunday dinner. I suspect he fears the worst for his father as well. You must speak to the families of Private Gavin and Alex; they did their families proud standing the line through the hottest fire.
Fear not the outcome of the siege, the city cannot hold for long. Our pickets tell me that the secesh are trying to trade tobacco for salt pork. I rather suspect they will be eating rats and dogs by Independence Day. General Grant has drawn a tight noose about the city and General Johnston has little chance of breaking the siege. With leaders, the like of Generals Grant and Sherman I think we shall win this war soon. Since I joined the fighting, we have suffered no real defeats.
The wife of Private Steele feeds us well. I am sometimes frightened to ask where from she conjures forth the food we enjoy so much. Mrs. Steele and her daughter ride in a Mormon cart at the end of the column as we march. We have been eating many goober peas of late and have grown fond of them. Private Steele is a fortunate man to have a wife and child with him. I know I enjoy the antics of his young daughter Myra. She is everywhere underfoot but is always smiling and happy to see whichever soldier she meets. It raises the heart.

Your Brother

[unionblue]

Tommy,

I promised you one time I would tell you about the 125th Shiloh reenactment and the kindness of the People of Tennessee.

Our Union reenacting group had contracted a bus to take our entire group there, about thirty guys, and we started out on Friday afternoon, in the month of April, from the Ohio Historical Society's parking lot in Columbus, Ohio. The day was perfect; sunny, warm and just a few white fluffy clouds in the blue sky. Spirits were high, period civil war songs were sung and old, funny stories retold once more.

Twenty-fives miles west of Columbus, the bus broke down. After about an hour and a half, it was repaired and off we went again. Spirits were high, songs were sung and jokes made about the idea of chartering a bus.

Hours pass. More hours pass. And then a few more hours pass. And suddenly comes the realization that our chartered driver has no idea how to get to Shiloh National Park or the reenactment site located nearby. About an hour and a half pass with maps been unfolded, poured over, examined, turned upside down, right side up and then finally folded and put back away.

Spirits are not as high as they once were and no songs are being sung and there is talk of murder in the air. At long last, the right State Route is found and we pull off into a gas station/diner/trucker pit stop. Here is the registration booth for the 125th Shiloh Reenactment, promised to be the biggest Civil War Reenactment in US History. Civil War reenactors portraying both North and South, Civilian and Soldier impressions, have come from as far away as England, France, Australia, New Zealand, Germany, Canada, Chezckoslavakia, and every State in the Union, from California to Florida! Spirits are high, jokes and greetings are exchanged and we are ready to bed down for the night and begin the reenactment in the morning with crowds estimated to be up to 50,000 visitors from all over the US. The numbers of reenactors are enormous and expected to top 15,000 in number with hundreds of calvary and full scale cannon (200 of them at one count)!

We register and change into our blue uniforms and catch a 'ferry/hay ride to the camp site. Its getting dark when we find our site and we are somewhat dismayed to see it is on the sharp slope of a hill, but spirits are high, the men are joking and are clearly glad to be here at such a huge, historic, National event!

Then the rain came. Not a sprinkle, not a shower, but a truly, God-awful, thunder and lighting, winds howling rain STORM. It was later confirmed that a tornado had touched down not far from the site and it was only God's good will that no one was hurt.

The rain came down so fully and heavily, small streams of water passed through the middle of our wedge and dog tents, making sure no one could sleep and not get soaked completely through to the bone, clothes and equipment soaked. The poor souls of our unit at the bottom of the hill ended up with a canvas swimming pool about 6-10 inches deep in their tent. Spirits were definitely NOT high, no songs were being sung, except the blues and 'rain, rain, go away.' The entire site became an ankle-deep pond and tents stood no chance at, well, standing. Many folks were out in the rain with collapsed tents on their heads. No jokes were being told and EVERYONE was cold, wet and miserable.

Then, one of the best things that has ever happened in my life took place. The First Sergeant of our band of soaked warriors, had made his way back to the truck stop and made our plight known to the owner. The man promptly offered his large, carpeted back room storage area for our use. He even threw the keys to his HUGE, 4WD pickup truck and told our man to use it to haul us and our equipment back. When asked how much he would charge for the use of his room, the man waved his hand and said nothing, that he and his companions were guests and would be treated as such.

Out of 10,000 reenactors, 30 got to get in from the rain, sleep warm and dry and every dam one of us made sure to eat our breakfasts, lunches and dinners, snacks, etc. in that good man's diner. His wife and daughters were great, helping us dry our clothes and gear and always ready to serve coffee and hot drinks to us. We slept on that carpeted floor, next to bags of onions and potatoes and were glad.

The 125th Shiloh, known forever to any reenactor who went to it as 'Mudlow' was one of the few National Reenactment events ever cancelled by the sponsors due to bad weather. But on Saturday and Sunday in particular, My unit got to tour the park in sunny weather and visit both spots where our historical units fought at in that battle (the 76th OVI and the 49th OVI). I have some wonderful group photos of the monuments and our group from both sites.

We left Sunday afternoon after thanking our hosts for their true Southern hospitality, after cleaning up their storeroom and buying a bunch of snacks to take with us on the bus. We left the parking lot in high Spirits, singing songs and joking about the soaking we got at 'Mudlow,' and how greatful we all were to the fine People of Tennessee.

The bus got a flat tire in Nashville, but that's another story.

Sincerely,
Unionblue

(Message edited by Unionblue on November 06, 2003)

(Message edited by Unionblue on November 06, 2003)

(Message edited by Unionblue on November 06, 2003)

[unionblue]

Tommy,

What do you think of the above experience?

Unionblue

Neil,
I love it. A great story masterful told. As was Shane's. I was trying to remember the storm. Yet we get so many it is hard to keep track of. Shiloh is just down the road a ways. When I go to Shiloh I take the Natchez Trace. Slower speed limit (which you best obey) but a much more serene ride. It is 444 miles long and at least 8000 years old.
I'd say you got lucky, and indeed you did, yet for some reason hospitality is generally a standard Southern thing. The luck was getting a place for 30 of you. Wow, I just know you were feeling mighty superior to all the other guys suffering.
The bit with the bus....I had to laugh....the term Comedy of Errors comes to mind...or Sod's Law...or Murphy's Law. There comes a time that the more disasters befall you the funnier it gets. The sheer absurdity of life.
If you ever do an event in Tennessee again be sure to let me know. I'd like to go watch. Lol...and you having a local contact in case of emergency won't hurt....but 30 people...errrrrr....just be sure to wipe your feet.

I do not know what it is but I love hearing tales of reenacting. I have to admit...I admire the time, money, effort and energy that reenactors invest in it. Seriously admire.

YMOS
tommy

[johan_steele]

I haven't been a re-enactor for as long as Neil but one of the first things I was taught to do was sit down after an event and "write a letter home" not as your own persona but as an imaginary friend, the man next to you in line. Hopefully by writing down what "he saw" you would have a better appreciation of your own actions and those around you. It has always given me an interesting outlook on an event. Up until Yesterday morning I had about thirty of those little one page letters home... after the computer crashed I see that I now only have two... Oh well.

Aphillbilly, you wanted to hear of some interesting stories? There are so many, unfortunately all too often the negatiive ones are in the forefront.

However, even the negative stories help give an idea of what the men of 61-65 went through.

For instance on a recent very small living history event we (my wife & I being the only CW reenactors)spoke to well over 300 people, I gave five presentations and my wife only three. Hers were FAR more popular as she was demonstrating how to cook over an open fire and talking of the civilian clothing of the time... and she's better looking than I am. But that smiling success is not what we remember. We remember the sudden torrential rain that gave us just under 1/2" in 45 minutes follwed by a heavy wind which then caught our tent and knocked it down soaking us and all of our blankets & gear. That night it dropped to about 40 degrees. Luckily, my father lives only about 20 minutes from the park... we were able to get warmed up, dryed off and sleep well that night. But it is a sober realization of the conditions the men often faced.

Actually, you might be suprised how inexpensive it is to get into reenacting around $1000 will set up as a federal infantryman, about $500 less will set an arty private. Cav is the most expensive and dismounted Cav is the most over represented. I've been told CSA roles are considerably cheaper... though I'm not honestly certain why.

After that first investment of rifle, uniform & leathers there really isn't anything more you HAVE to buy. The hardest thing really is finding a good unit. That creates all kinds of difficulties and a lot depends on what kind of reenacting you want to do. I've lucked out and belonged to two outstanding units over the years and only really had one bad unit. But my wife enjoys the hobby as well, and thank God, I found a family friendly unit. That is much easier said than done.

Safety though may be the most important issue, I know of one event that was shut down now because of a CSA unit that was... less than safe. They weren't allowed on the field the second day and left before the battle. The event has been cancelled for next year.

In the last three years I have been stepped on by a horse, burned by powder from a pistol (I informed the officer that if he pulled the trigger again I would let him see first hand how to properly recover from being butt stroked w/ an Enfield.) Been physically moved by the discharge of a cannon (an awesome experiance!) I was "dead" and every time the cannon fired the concussion would lift my sack coat! Three of us had fallen in a slight depression among knee high grass and the two cannon that wheeled into a pre positioned locale about thirty five feet from us couldn't see us. by the time we realized what was happening the first salvo had been fired. I learned first hand that a well crewed gun can indeed fire twice a minute, a sobering experiance. Incidently, we crawled away from that locale rather rapidly. But the point is this, thankfully no one was hurt. Heat exhaustion has caused more issues than firearms safety of late.

If you are indeed even vaguely interested in the hobby let me know... I'll be happy to send you a list of reputable sutlers as well as a list of needed items; it's for Federal but could easily be converted to CSA. I can also send you a list of units local to your state.

[scone]

Well, I have just finished my first year of reenacting. And the one event that stick out in my mind is my first event. 138th Franklin event at the Carnton Plantation in Franklin, Tennessee. Being the direct descendant of 4 Confederate soldiers and related to numerous others as well union relatives. It was an honor to portray any one of them.

The emotion that I felt when we lined up to march of to battle chokes me up still. Our Battalion commander made a speach on how he was proud of each and everyone of us. Thats about when the skirmishers and connons started the firing. The excitement had the hair on my arms standing at attention. The the Commander went into how we were fight for our rights, our homes (as he was picking up a hand full of dirt) and familes. And how by the days end many of us would not come home to our familes.

The firing continued in the background as our Captain brought the colors by and one by one we all reached out and touched them. It was then that it hit me that what was like to be one of my relatives.

The Drummers started beating their tune and off I marched thinking when it was over I could go home take a shower and relax but for 600,000 + Americans they did have that choice. And tears swelled up in my eyes and I marched On into battle.

[unionblue]

Steven,

You have just reminded me why I always wanted to be a Civil War reenactor.

Thanks,

Unionblue

[johan_steele]

If this rambles a bit I apologize, I'm on my second bottle of Sherry.

One thing that I think is often under represeneted in re-enacting is the men just trying to survive. Yes the bravery & sacrifice is indeed memorable but some of the stories of men just trying to make it through to the next day are interesting as well.

Back in 92 or 93 at one of my first re-enactments a Texan stole the show by stealing his Major's horse so he could desert. It was a well played out skit, and one that I will always remember.

At the Vicksburg Living History the public was able to watch some fraternization between picketts. The "...we'll only shoot at the officers if you will too." was a particularly memorable line.

My first unit often did some provost duty; it was particularly galling and eye opening when we did an execution of a deserter skit...

I currently portray a man that was a BAD alcoholic and we have had some good presentations displaying that. The same man was also a veteran of the Crimea, and some of my speeches to the new troops have had people turning green. Should it be a point of pride to get a man, who in reality is a combat veteran, to turn green?

I have gotten a bit of a reputation as an individual who dies particularly well on the field, "...conveying the emotions of battle wounds quite realistically." I suppose it isn't a good thing to strive for realism to the point that you make members of the audience cry or whince. I have done a particularly good gut shot death & a head wound (bled to death) that had audience members wheeping. I typically carry only a half dozen rounds in my cartridge box so that I end up falling early. I think for some reason I take it as a personal mission to show that the war produced so much more than just heroics, that it was a time of suffering amid great loss. I've found that that single effort seems to bring the war home to so many people. Never become friends w/ makeup artists!

Incidently, I was once warned to never again throw a manaquin's arm into the audience after a cannon fired, apparently a woman fainted.

I think people relate to the time so much better if they see men who they could imagine as themselves or their own brothers, sons or fathers.

The men who fought and died in the CW were real people, the romance was added after the fact.

[unionblue]

Tommy and all,

I remember when I first got started in reenacting, it was after seeing the movie, "Glory' while I was still serving in the Army. I was so impressed by the film, I stayed to watch the credits and that's where I saw they were 'reenacting units' that contributed to the making of the film. That was in 1990, I think.

I retired from the Army in '91 and went to work for the Post Office in '93, where I saw mail concerning reenacting units again and asked a fellow employee about them. He told me a guy worked on the day shift who was a Civil War reenactor and he would hook me up.

About a week after that, I found myself at the Ohio Historical Village at a weekend 'drill.' I was there in my old Army field jacket, levis and tennis shoes and I thought I was there to just watch.

Ten minutes later, I was in the ranks, drilling with a borrowed musket, and doing EVERYTHING wrong and loving every minute of it. One month later, I had my forage cap, 4-button blue wool sack coat, muslin shirt, sky-blue pants, wool socks and leather brogans. I had to borrow my leathers, cartridge box, musket, bayonet, blank rounds and caps from other generous members when it came to loading and firing in 'nine times' but boy, can I remember my first company volley! When the commands, 'READY! AIM! FIRE!' and my entire company did it perfect, with yours truly, it was such a rush!

Needless to say, I was hooked, badly, and couldn't wait to buy the rest of my gear and attend a 'NATIONAL' event, the 'big one' as the rest of my reenacting unit called them. And then, it happened.

Orange County, Virginia, the recreation of the Battle of the Wilderness, Saunder's Field in particular. Thousands of reenactors had shown up for the weekend event, artillery, infantry, cavalry, you name it, it was there. And boy, was it HOT! I was lucky that my friend Mark had come along, as we had started in the hobby at the same time. Here we were lowly privates about to recreate one of the most fierce battles of the war.

Saturday morning, we got up WAY early, in 19th century character, to hear firing in the woods to our front. Our officers were shouting and the drums were playing the 'long roll' meaning combat was eminent. We dropped our packs, formed ranks and were quick marched into the woods. A low fog made things hard to see and it seemed the firing was coming from everywhere! Our column halted and a Major came to our company commander and told him to take us to the front as skirmishers. My heart was pounding! The tip of the spear and my very first 'combat!' We hurried to the front, deployed and walked into the mist looking for the enemy.

Out of the fog, a group of dark forms appeared and then to my shock and amazement, a solid wall of rebel troops! "Fall back!" was the cry, "Take cover!" as I found a tree I was sure couldn't stop an angry insult, let alone a mine ball. "Fire at will!" was the order and I squinted trying to find a target in all the mist and sound.

And there they were, yelling, firing and all of then headed straight for ME! I raised my Springfield and pulled the trigger and heard the snap of the hammer as it fell. Nothing! I had, in all of my excitement, failed to notice that my percussion cap had fallen off my 'cone.' I fumbled at my cap box, and then placed the cap, reaimed and fired. This time a bang and a swrill of gray smoke as my round went off. I reloaded and fired again and again, firing, screaming, yelling all around in that thick fog.

Then I heard the Captain yell, "Forward boys, forward!" and up I came. But in that thick fog, I became lost and separated from my company but then experienced the unforgetable. I stumbled upon three rebel soldiers, all of them with unloaded muskets, thank the good Lord! I leveled my musket and called upon them to surrender. The one in charge said, "Easy, Yank, we're done fighting. You want to be promoted? Want to be a hero? We'll be your prisoners if you escort us safe through your lines." I considered my options of finding my company in the mess of fog and trees and quickly agreed with the reb.

I had the happy Confederates sling their arms muzzle downwards and we marched out of the woods onto the only dirt road back to Union lines. Here we passed many other Union regiments going to the front while we headed back and I was constantly 'horrad' for my capture of the prisoners. I even had the luck to meet the commanding general, ol' Grant himself, who commended me on my 'bravery!'

Once we got out of those woods and in the clear, I shook hands with my three reb prisoners and told them to 'git' back to their lines. With a 'good luck, Yank.' they were gone and I had one of the best reenacting experiences of my life, and this was just the FIRST day of the event! I'll tell you about the second day later.

YMOS,
Unionblue

(Message edited by Unionblue on November 12, 2003)