Tales of Events

Hello boys and girls. I have been reenacting since 1980, but most of my adventures have been confined to the Trans-Mississippi region and in particular the Missouri/Kansas region. Please forgive me for showing my age, but in all my years, I have seen alot of bizarre stuff. Stuff that I would never thought possible accept as a member of a Civil War Reenactment group.
Recently I self-published a book of my adventures. Don't worry, this is not meant as an advertisement. If you wish info on my book, please contact me via email.
Instead, since this is a forum for the posting of "tales of events," I kindly submit an episode from a reenactment held at Champions Hill, MS about May 1983.

"When we arrived at the event site, the federals were once again camped on the opposite side of Baker's Creek, but this time about 200 yards further away. The all-you-can-eat fish fry was available to all at the Cactus Plantation that evening, so after we'd set up camp and dressed out, we went over and ate our fill (I'm not sure whether we returned to camp or spent the night at the plantation). A non-spectator skirmish was planned for Saturday, but a bit different than the one done the year before. There were several other federal units here - at least 200 total infantry. We definitely had twice as many federals as a year ago, but the Johnnies still outnumbered us by a 3-1 ratio.

"Not sure what time the fight began on Saturday, but believe mid-morning about right. Holmes Brigade had a strength of about 20-something and we were sent out ahead of the main body into a skirmish line (we were the only ones, who had successfully mastered the art of the skirmish drill, so we were the bait). We advanced through the most God-forsaken country man had ever laid eyes on. Thousands of skinny trees, each with hundreds of clutching/grabbing prickly vines and waist high weeds that threatened to snatch the clothes off our backs. 'Stick-tights' and thistles clung to our trousers legs and the pollen swirled around our heads like a snowstorm. Holmes advanced cautiously in this fashion, spread out and at arm length from the comrade next to us. We eventually came into a somewhat open area that it was believed the Johnnies would come through, so Captain Dick halted us. We were still in a skirmish line and our line extended from one edge of the field to the other-a distance of about 50 yards or more. The grass was still waist high here, so Dick ordered us to take a knee to be out of sight. It was while the boys were flopping down that someone stepped on a rabbit or some small creature and it screamed horribly and skeedaddled like it's <font color="ff0000">•</font><font color="ff0000">•</font><font color="ff0000">•</font> was on fire.

"The rest of the federal infantry was coffee-cooling a short distance to the rear, but they promised to attack once the enemy was suckered into the trap. With the main body of some 200 boys in the rear was GENL. US GRANT, aka Marty Brazil, artist for the CAMP CHASE GAZETTE. He'd played Grant a year before and had it down to a 'T', looking as cool as a cucumber. He postured quite a bit during the day, an unlit stogie worming from one side of his mouth to the other and his eyebrows contracting as if in a pensive mood or just constipated. When the enemy finally approached, we came to our feet and began to fire individually like little mosquitos. Only annoyed by our puny efforts, the gray battalions dumbly shuffled forward like moths to a flame; a big blue flame. As promised, our comrades were there to spring the trap and a heavy fight developed. In the confusion, GENL GRANT somehow ended up in the wrong place and got himself captured. Dickson told us we'd been ordered to fall to the rear, even as the gray tidal wave continued its unstoppable path of destruction. Our gallant comrades in blue seemed to sacrifice themselves so Holmes Brigade could retire intact, but one of the last things I heard was this sobbing little voice pleading with his captors, "I'm Marty Brazil, dammit! Not Genl. Grant!" We expected the Johnnies to pursue us, but they seemed pleased with their prize and let us be.

"As the evening wore on, rain began to fall in an annoying drizzle. Though merely an annoyance, frantic efforts were made to move personal possessions as tiny leaks began to develop in the tents. Our camp was on high ground and many of the guys dug trenches around their tents to turn the water away. Even with the trenching, the ground turned a little soupy. There was no straw to put down in our tents (I think the Confederates suckered us out of our share), but I had that gum blanket I'd bought plus an old gunny sack mattress filled with real lamb's wool that I got from my grandfather. However, I did not trench around my tent properly and rainwater was running under the skirt of my A, developing into a nice little pond by morning. Newton Hughes got out of his dog tent about every half hour that night to hammer on each stake in a frantic effort to keep his tent from sliding downhill. The 'tink-tink-tink' of every one of those eight steel spikes being whacked with a metal hammer, was a symphony that all who attended Champion's Hill of May '83 would never forget.

"Hig and Maki slept together in a dog tent next to the restless Newton Hughes. They had all their gear, muskets, plus Hig's six-foot and John's five-foot frame in this little shelter. Not only did they try to keep everything dry in this cramped space, but they tried to snatch a little shut-eye between each 'tink-tink-tink' of Newton's silver hammer. On top of that, Hig saw a spider crawling around in the semi-darkness (trying to stay dry, I'll bet). He immediately panicked claiming it was one of those dreaded 'Brown Recluse' monsters that when they bite, your skin swell's up and a fever sets in. Tossing gear from one side of the tent to the other, Hig chased the monster; slashing and stabbing at it with his coffin handle Bowie knife. After some tense moments (and as if fearing for his own safety) John convinced Hig that the monster had left the tent. Order was restored as the boys put their stuff back in place, and then settled back to rest. No sooner had their heads hit their bedrolls, than 'tink-tink-tink!' went Newton's silver hammer.

"Early Sunday morning we awoke with the rain still falling. For the most part it was still only an annoying drizzle, but the guys were reluctant to come out into it, so roll call was taken in the tents. (In a recent email letter, Dick told me that the rollcall in the tents " was done that way because I had spent the early hours watching Kinzer's boys sit around their smoldering fire in the rain because they had been told not to bring tents. A more miserable lot of men I had not seen before. They were so downcast and dejected I thought it would be fun to pull Cals chain and rub our relative comfort in a bit by having Bill call roll without making the boys go stand in the rain"...and I thought it was because he was concerned about our health!)

"It was still raining when we formed up for the battle a little past noon. Luckily we didn't have far to march, because the battlefield was just down the hill from us and on the other side of Baker's Creek about 300 yards away. I think some people went home, but I believe our battalion was still intact. We marched out in a column of companies with our muskets at secure arms with the song "Singing In the Rain!" coming from the lips of every man. On the other side of Baker's Creek we formed a battalion line of battle and began throwing withering volleys at the advancing rebel horde. What was unique about this battle was the drizzle in the air actually had an effect of holding the gun smoke close to the ground. It did not readily evaporate, but was like a shroud over us. Captain Dick and a few other officers had to hunker down on all fours and peer under the cloud of smoke to see where the enemy was. A couple of other interesting incidents of this battle included blue dye washing out a new slouch hat down a man's face, and Paul Walter who fell full length in a water-filled hole. The hole was less than a foot deep, but Paul emerged soaked to the bone, his slouch hat hanging like a hound dog's ears, and his musket looked like a dug relic."

This is just a sample of some of the adventures I've participated in over the last 25 years. They way I look at it, all reenactors have a story to tell. We have all seen many bizarre things while in this hobby. I've seen stuff that would amaze P.T. Barnum and I'm sure you have too. So I decide to write a book. It's amazing the things I could remember once I started typing. Anyway, I apologize for it was not my intention to turn this message into an advertisement. If you are curious and wish more info on my stories (all true), please email me at [email protected].
Yours with fondest regards,
Robert Talbott
 
Friends,

Well, we're off to Guyandotte, WV, for the 15th annual reenactment there. I'll be taking my wife, her sister and husband, and a lot of excitement at being at one of the best reenactments in the region.

For Jason and Nicole, this will be their first reenactment and my wife and I felt they should be more than just spectators. Therefore, I have procured Jason a Union uniform, 1861 Springfield rifle, leathers, haversack, canteen and plenty of blank ammo for his very first event. My wife, Sue, has made her sister Nicole a period-pattern day-dress, bonnet, gloves and shoes for her first living history role. They get to play IN the playground instead of from the sidelines and we're very excited about that!

We leave Friday from Columbus, OH, and I hope to return with an excellent report and more than a few pictures for all of you to view. Wish us luck and good weather!

Sincerely,
Unionblue
 
Good luck Neil and I'm sure that your sister-in-law and her husband will enjoy their first re-enacting experience together under your expert tutelage. I'll look forward to pictures from this event and of course a detailed report!

Dawna
 
Take care Neil, and I hope you, Sue and your relatives have a splendid time! We'll look forward to seeing some great pictures and I will say a prayer that you have wonderful weather!

YMOS,
 
Friends,

Well, back home safe once more, after participating in the 15th Annual Guyandotte Civil War Days, and I must say I had a very good time.

My wife and I, along with her sister, Nicole, and her husband, Jason,drove down Friday afternoon, registered for the event and then proceeded to our Days Inn encampment so that we could sleep in comfort and not in a chilly tent for the weekend!

Saturday morning, Jason and I got up, and got dressed and decked out as Union soldiers with the 30th OVI regiment and headed into town to participate in the days activities. Jason wore one of my spare uniform outfits, a Union shell nine-button jacket with kepi, white muslin shirt, vest, kersey light blue pants with "braces," black boots, and wool socks. He then put on his "leathers," haversack, and canteen and picked up his 1861 Springfield rifle, ready for action!

I myself wore a four-button sack coat, Hardee Slouch Hat, green checked muslin shirt, vest, light blue kersey wool pants, wool socks and brogans for my more "Western Ohio" soldier look. I also wore leathers, haversack, canteen and one more item, period spectacles.

We reported to camp and immediately got Jason to drilling, as he had never attended a reenactment before, so the NCO's of the 30th took the boy under their wings and drilled him in the manual of arms, firearms safety and the proper loading and firing of blanks from his rifle. In true old soldier form, I sat on a bale of straw the entire time and voiced encouragement to the lad.

After all was satisfied with Jason's military progress, we were both "volunteered" to guard the Union recruiting station in the center of town with the rest of the company. Here we stood at attention with rifles at shoulder or support arms, rendering the sloppy present arms as officers ventured our way in true, western fashion.

I could tell Jason was really getting into the whole thing as he was quiet and watched everything that was going on. Then a cannon boomed in the distance catching him a bit off-guard, and me too, if the truth be known. The company quickly came into line and then it was judged by the sound of distant musketry that we should build a barrier from bales of straw, just in case this trouble was NOT from local militia as our over-confident officers kept telling us.

We soon found out that this was NOT the case, as our calvary scouts were pushed back to our position and a small federal company of infantry was seen RUNNING back to our fortified position. Then, there they were! Reb infantry as thick as fleas on a barn dog! To our front and yelling that cursed Rebel yell! As we knelt in two ranks behind our flimsy barrier of hay bales, I could see Jason wide-eyed and tight-lipped at the prospect of his first "combat!"

We were told to load and come to the ready and in the process of doing so, poor nervous Jason lost his cap and had to quickly dig another out of his cap box. And then it came. Our captain yelled, "Rise UP Boys! Ready! AIM! FIRE!" As if as one, huge gun had exploded, all the boys fired in one, massive volley. Flame and smoke sheeted out to our front and one could almost hear lead breaking bones and tearing flesh. A score of Rebs went down, but many more rushed to take the fallen's place. "Reload! Fire! FIRE AT WILL!" Every man at the barricade frantically reached into his cartridge box, tore the tail of the paper cartridge off with his teeth and tried to reload as fast as he could. Jason had become a machine, load, cap, fire, load, cap, fire, round after round, a perfect killing machine.

It was time to stop worrying about him and look to my own skin. Firing and loading was an old friend to me, but it seemed to be having little effect on our foe. He had gone to ground and was returning fire hotly, so much so, I could here the balls passing by like angry bees. I fired one more shot and then it happened. A dull thud and a hammer blow to my chest and I was down behind the bales. It was hard to catch my breath and suddenly I felt a wetness spreading from my chest. In the coming darkness I heard a moan and then felt a body fall upon my side and dimly saw that it was Jason, struck down and dead in an instant.

As all grew dark, I could sense my company retreating back into the alleys away from the oncoming Rebels, leaving Jason and myself to our bitter fate. And then all was quiet and I heard nothing more. Jason's first fight along with mine, was our last.

And that was just the FIRST day!

Talk at you all some more on this event later.

Sincerely,
Unionblue
 
15th Annual Guyandotte continued...

After a rousing first day Saturday, we all retired to our motel for a late dinner and to prepare for the ball at the VFW.

Nicole, wore a yellow pattern dress made for her by my wife Sue, her hair in ringlets with period jewelery to match. Jason was attired in a clean white shirt, black cravat tie and a blue, nine-button infantry frock coat with blue piping, topped off with white gloves.

Sue dressed in a gray dress and black bonnet while I wore my 76th Ohio "furlough jacket" which resembles a infantry shell with a blue trim, cravat, and white gloves. We then headed for the ball.

Here we found a crowd of both blue and gray, ladies decked out in their best ball gowns and the 52d Regimental String Band. The ladies had their dance cards which were quickly filled out by legions of eager men who wished the pleasure of a dance with them. Punch bowls and light snacks were provided and the bar was definately open!

The evening began with the "Grand March" in which all couples gave acknowledgement to the host and hostess of the ball, followed by a waltz. Then my favorite dance, the Virginia Reel! This too, was then followed by the infamous "Broom Dance" where all must start with one woman but cannot dance with the same partner when the music stops. Oh, and I forgot, there is one man dancing with a broom until he drops it when the music stops and scurries to find a woman to dance with! Who ever is left without a female partner must dance with the broom! The ladies loved being "fought" over at the stopping of the music several times in the dance.

Polkas, waltzs, more reels and the band played on! Then it was the ladies turn to do the broom dance. Here one lady danced with a broom until the music stopped and then all ladies must change partners and find a new man to dance with! I must say it was quite an experience to be "chased" by beautiful women of all shapes and sizes just so they could escape dancing with the broom!

The ball began at 8PM and ended at about mid-night. But the band played one last song and asked all to join in. The song was "Dixie" and every man and woman there, no matter if from the North or the South, sang it slowly and with respect, many (myself included) with hands over hearts, until the songs end wherein all applauded and roared their approveal.

Thus we retired back to our room and to prepare for the next day's assualt on Guyandotte, where Union forces would try and retake the town.

Until that time,
Unionblue
 
Steven Cone,

Steven, just wanted to pass onto you that I took you up on your idea to bring spare uniforms and gear when I gave a presentation at a vocational school I was asked to.

I dressed up on young man in a complete Confederate outfit and one in a complete Union outfit, sans pants and shoes, but they had everything else (i.e. hats, jackets, leathers, haversack, canteen and muskets). I must say it made a huge difference in keeping class attention focused on my presentation and upped class participation mightly.

Thanks for the suggestion.

Sincerely,
Unionblue
 
What a great idea there you two. We do similar things when we are out on site, and women go to us: What's it like to wear all that? Most of the time we come with extra dresses, and it's very easy to get some one decked out. They just love it, and feel very very different in the period dress.
 
Jenna,

When you dress up the students in just the basic kit, hat, jacket, leathers, haversack, canteen and rifle, they are amazed at how cumbersome the clothing and equipment are and just how heavy the rifle is. And remember, in most cases you don't have them put on the muslin shirt, vest, pants, drawers, socks and shoes/brogans!

Now add on a double bag knapsack or blanket roll with rubber poncho or gum blanket, extra socks, shirt, blanket, boiler, ax or shovel and this stuff gets heavy!

Most of the men are surprised at how heavy my 1861 Springfield rifle is, a bit over 9 1/2 pounds, and then I add my bayonet to it and it comes out to about 10 pounds. A modern M-16 only weighs about 6 pounds.

And when you show them how to properly hold and aim the rifle, they become even more amazed. Then tell them that boys as young as 10 years old or that women disguised as men used to march carrying it and then fire it in battle, they leave with a whole different view on the war and the men and women who fought in it. For the better I would say.

On the other hand, when I help my wife dress and get ready to be the camp cook, I cannot begin to imagine what women had to go through just to get dressed and do their "chores!" And the "equipment" the gals need to just cook in an authentic manner or to be a washerwoman, good grief!

But I admit, it is fun to dress up the public and let them get a very small taste of what it was like to at least dress up in a 19th century outfit.

Sincerely,
Unionblue
 
Friends,

I am about to embark on a new path in my reenacting career. On January 29 of this year, I will attend my first meeting with the 1st Ohio Light Artillery, a reenacting organization based out of the Ohio Statehouse.

These guys and gals have four, original brass Civil War era cannon, two six-pounders and two twelve-pounders, that are kept on the Statehouse grounds as displays and monuments. EXCEPT when the 1st OLA takes them out to reenactments, two events in the State of Ohio and two National events elsewhere in the country.

I was invited last year by a member to join the unit and become part of a gun crew! You cannot begin to imagine my excitement! I have been a PBI (Poor Bloody Infantryman) since becoming a Civil War reenactor and held every rank from private to Captain. Now to become a "red leg!" I'll keep you all posted.

Unionblue
 
Neil- you have now become part of the upper intellignace of the millitary at that time. Cannoniers were required to know how to read, write and do mathmatics. They took exceptional care in what they did, and how they treated their gun. Most slept by the gun, protecting it at night, and took great pride in every position they held.

So are you going to be powder monkey for a while, or are they putting you right up there on one and two? My brother's favorite spot is one. He's been there for the last 2 years. His group requires only experienced gunners to be on one and two.

Have fun and be safe and remember to always spong after every round!

Jenna
 
Jenna,

I see trouble ahead for a guy who got C's in math and hated algebra!

I am pretty sure I will start at the bottom of the pile here, in fact, I will insist on it! As a former soldier, the big guns get a lot of respect from me and I want to be sure to learn all the safety and firing procedures before I do any other position.

Thanks for the info and encouragement.

Steven, ain't it the truth! I have had the big guns "bark" up close a few times during major reenactments, the 130th Antietam comes to mind. I have seen and felt the concussions after taking a hit in front of them and thought the same was going to lift me right off the ground!

Take care all, and thanks for the comments.

Unionblue
 
Gettysburg the Movie... one of the cannons actually shot down a camera helo (large remote control helo) so that concussion is nothing to laugh at.

A cannoneer who served under Sherman once made a comment that for the entire Atlanta Campaign he was never out of site of his gun and stated that his Rodman fired so many rounds that the rifling was almost completely shot away... you have certainly joined the "ranks of bronze." I'm reminded of a CW saying: "You can always judge a man by the color of his piping, Blue blooded American boys are the Infantry, Red blooded boys the arty and the cavalry... well you know what color their piping is!"
 
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