AAR Bummers

[mootpoint]

Re: AAR Bummers

Here is my first person account of the event (dates shifted a bit to match the 1864 dates). This was my first full immersion event and I had a great time! Look forward to the next:


Nov 14, 1864: Gen. "Billy" Sherman promised them traitors a hard war if they kept resisting but a soft peace if they quit. Capt. Sorchy said something about "order 129" which I got to mean if they resist give em hell, if they give way then give grace. These words were parted on our way into the woods during an evening march. They sure did not give us way as I saw one of boys butchered on the side of the road as we marched on. One of Sgts were tending him but I saw more blood than a fall pig slaughter.

We were attacked from the ridge to our left. I was loaded and ready to fire, but they called to only fire when we could see a real target. The woods flashed with muzzle fire as a few shots were fired in black night. I tried with all my eyes power to see up the ridge with each flash. We were told to march up the hill and flush them out. I could feel an ambush but I pressed through the godforsaken southern forest tripping over unseen vines and quietly groaning as the thorns grabbed my coat, my hands, and my hat.

With no more shots fired we attempted to find our scattered company boys so we could get a meal and some sleep. We have been moving fast and foraging for our good General but nothing in our sacks to show for it. We got a small ration of salt pork which is all we have had for days.

We had a darky join our company. The Capt. said that Winthrop was running from South Carolina and would be protected by our company. I don't see many colored at home in Iowa. This was the first time I was up close and heard them speak. I heard stories from my brothers back home. The Capt. and Sgt had a lot of words to say to him, but I had none. I was drawn to his words and just watched his face in the fire light. I am a little afraid of him but the Capt. said we were to protect him. I can image what would happen if I got caught by Johnny, but this Winthrop would be in a different trouble. I like to hear him talk. He talks slowly and with funny words. I want to fall asleep, but I just watch him.

I was asked by 1Sgt. Tippet to escort him to the 1st Division officers for a meeting. The woods decided that it needed some northern blood and attempted to swallow the good Sgt whole. In the dark woods, he stepped into a four foot pit and I quickly followed. Neither of us was truly hurt but I thought for sure my loaded rifle was to make itself known.

The site of the fires on hill stills my heart. Our boys have been pushing hard since Atlanta and the gentle fires in the night gives me heart that this will soon be over.

I had third watch and stood the entire time. I kept repeating the challenge and response to myself. I was sure we would be challenged and I was determined to keep those traitors out of our camp. Really I was afraid of a noose slipped around my neck as I would be carried into the night.

Nov 15, 1864: Someone has a small handful of coffee. You can only use so much water until you might as well as boil leaves. I think we hit that limit today. I think I am sticking leaves in my tin tomorrow.

We set off down the hill. My good buddy Sean said he found some food while on a water duty, but he did not have the strength to carry it up the hill. I just hope someone else found it and brought it along.

Today has been the hardest march of my time on Billy's march. We were supposed to follow a road along the river, but the river claimed the road and we claimed the woods. The 2nd broke trail for us and we inched along in the woods up and down steep embankments and small cliffs. Wet leaves are not easy to walk on. Wet rocks are not good to walk on. A hill is not easy to walk on. We had that and more.

The boys are getting out of line in their talk, but the Sgt and the Capt. are too far off to hear. I shut my mouth and pray that Johnny does not find out where are. We are sitting like carnival bottles in a line waiting to be hit.

When we got to a resting spot the 1st Sgt said we are not even close to the spot we were supposed to be at. After a lot of officer talk the 3rd broke from the 2nd to search a new area for some food for the army.

The 3rd foraged in an area at bottom of the ridgeline and near the raging river. We heard rumors of civilians hiding their wares in these parts, but our scout must have led us astray. One of the boys found a slow moving cottonmouth. Good thing it was November and not July. I can’t wait to get back home to Iowa where our fields always have the good Lord’s bounty and the woods are free from cottonmouths.

We are running out of water. Capt. Sorchy asked for volunteers to fill canteens for the boys of the 10th. Sean, Jay, Huck, TJ, Arnie and I headed out to find the spring. I was sweating from the awful Georgia heat and the constant up hill march. Jay, TJ, and Sean keep point and we all kept our eyes on the hills. We saw hoof prints all day long, and this trail had deeper, fresher marks.

Huck and I are finished and the others continue on up to see if the water was just around the next bend. I tried every canteen to see if the lot of them had enough drops to make one mouthful. No luck.

Jay comes bounding down the path telling us that they found the water. I give up the canteens around my neck but not the albatross. We follow Jay up to the spring and collapse. Huck and I secure the spring as best we could as the others bring the water back to the parched boys down below.

As Huck and I have a bit of time, we find the area covered with corn, goobers, and tubers. I can't believe our luck. It certainly was not the sound of boots of the army that sent the settlers scattered without their food. Maybe a trap, but I really do not care at this point. I bite into a tuber and feel the cramps of my belly call out.

While kicking around the area I find an abandoned candle lamp. My wife back home could really use it, but how am I going to get it home? Maybe a good sutler will give me a couple dollars. I would rather have a good mule team and the money can help us out.

There is a little more spring in the step of the 10th and the other boys. It is a good thing that our almighty Father gave the rains for our fields and our mouths.

Nov 16, 1864: That I am writing this today is testament to all the Sundays I spent on my knees and will continue spending on them.

Our fortune looked up as we met a travelling couple who shared their cheese and apples with us. The gentleman said he has seen no rebels on the roads. The lady was carrying a pistol in her bag so we emptied the pistol of caps and load out and sent them on their way.

We came upon a wagon of a travelling seamstress. The boys swarmed over the campsite looking for anything to fill the growing space in their bellies. I was asked to keep a watch down the road as we hear musket fire in the distance. I found a can of corn on the side of the road but those damn rebs had loosed the bottom so all the corn scattered as I picked it up.

The boys of the 10th were leading the division down the road as a group of militia opened fire on us. We opened up and pushed them back. They fell back and we obliged their giving only to be pulled into a howitzer on the road. I jumped into the trees just in time to miss the grape shot, rocks, and nails sent down our way. Sean and I took up a good position behind some felled trees and sent as many loads across the field as we could.

We pushed them back into the woods and the guns quieted once more. I passed a cabin which was filled with screams of a woman. The Lt. from the 63rd was blocking the doorway and threatening any man to come near or he would put a bullet in their skull. I heard him say there was a woman inside with child and nobody was to touch the cabin. I moved on quickly as some of the boys in the back may not listen to the Lt. and we could get a squabble that I wanted no part of.

We moved into the woods and the forward group of the 10th entered camp site with a small cabin. I saw three women and maybe two men. They did not look happy about our arrival. One of the women was blocking the door to the cabin and the Capt. asked me to get her out of the way and to help search the cabin. We have some boys in our unit that I would pit against an ox, but this women could be pit against a team and probably still win the tug. I don't rightly want to hurt a lady, but the fighting and carrying on was making my blood boil. No food, little water and howitzers somewhere in the area made my skin heat up like when daddy hided my arse.

I struggled to move the lady out of the cabin and looked for the pleaded help from others. All I saw was some boys chasing a chicken in the yard and others searching for any scraps hidden around in the trees. I took back to looking through the cabin when the order was called to destroy the cabin. I began kicking the board off the sides when that oxen woman came charging back in to stop me. I got her back outside with new parts of my body that never sweat before pouring out what little water was left in me. I began pulling up the boards when I felt a thwack on my backpack and turned to see my good friend ox lady with a club in her hands. I struggled for the haft when a chicken comes scrabbling between my legs into the cabin.

I now have an ox team on my back and a chicken fluttering about in the cabin room. The chicken attempted to fly up the chimney when some boys called in for me to catch it. Now how am I supposed to catch their damn chicken with this ox team on my back and hands filled with the heft of a club? Somehow I get the bird in my hands with the lady yelling in my ears that it is hers and I need to drop it. I somehow pass the damn fluttering ball of feathers out the door to the boys waiting in the doorway while the ox team continues to plow me about the cabin room. I ask for some help but they are more interested in getting that chicken on a spit.

I finally get the ox team out the door for the third time and tell the nearest blue coat to put a musket to the head of this rabid rebel. I hear the 1st Sgt call out to those with torches to help him set the place alight. I gladly take the opportunity to move out of the cabin to get some kerosene on and get this damned place off of God's good earth.



The 10th is asked to form up and move on. I see one of the boys working the chicken and another one running like a chicken with one of the fine ladies hats on his head. The previous owner is not far behind squawking about her damn hat.

We move down the road and form a skirmish line as someone has spotted the militia forming up on ridge a bit further into the woods. Sean and I take up positions on the right side and set our sites on the group of them. We push forward and find that they have two mountain howitzers clearing the road quite nicely. We keep behind the largest trees we can find and keep up the volley in return. We push them back to a turn in the road and Sean and I spot a traitor moving up on the left side of the road. We skirmish back across the road. That Sean keeps my spirits high with words of encouragement. I am not sure I can take the pressure of the cannons, the boys the ridge and the threat of those yet to be seen cavalry we know are in the area.

Sean and I get into position to relieve the traitor hiding ahead of his life. I jump a log and head for a large pine and he must of peeked his head for a shot as Sean lets loose a nice ball into him. The rebel lad stumbled into the woods but I lost sight of him since I now saw the rest of the militia formed up and ready to make a counter charge back down on us. We had moved too far ahead of our company and were likely to be cut off. Sean called me back to avoid capture or sure death, but I was slow to move since my eyes were caught on the unit on the ridge advancing down into us.

I turned to run back to the last place I saw Sean and then saw a unit of grey on the road. I knew there was a unit at my back as well, so I looked for the best place to duck and hide so as avoid capture. But no fire came from their muskets. They were a captured unit and the Capt. was moving them ahead of our units into the militia traitors.

I could not rightly see, but I heard some cheers as the militia units all ran into the woods. Those captured boys scampered back to their unit as soon as they could and yellow bellied it out of our sites.

My clothes are wet with sweat but not blood. Our almighty Father has looked down on Billy's boys today and we are that much closer to our goal of peace in the south.

Pvt. Taggert MacLean, 10th Iowa


------> OOC: Any comments on writing style or more period terms are greatly appreciated. I really would like to get a more first person feel to the letter or diary entry. This is longer to give more description to the event.

[Johnny Lloyd]

Re: AAR Bummers

Johnny, that exact thing did happen on Sunday morning, although you probably weren't in the area when it happened. For most of Sunday morning we were harassing the Engineer company down that steep hill on foot with the horses following in the rear. Once we got to the bottom of the hill to the road everyone mounted back up and a push was made against the Engineers. As we rushed into them, those engineers with their repeaters unleashed a hellish amount of fire upon us. Myself and Jerry Ross both took hits out of the saddle and the rest of the guys hauled ass back, as we knew our game was up at that point. I personally take a hit out of the saddle every chance I get, as I hate the sterotype of cavalry never taking hits that most infantry seem to have. It can be tough however to safely take a hit off your horse when your moving at a pretty fast pace!

Dan

Good on you, sir... No, I wasn't in your AO at the time, but I had heard through observers that 'two cav guys took hits' in an other area of the playing field after the event.

Yes, also, safety is always a concern for those that are riding- horses do sometimes have a mind of their own. But if you can stop your mount, dismount and walk with the reins in-hand as a "hit" back to your rear area, then this is a good simulation in my opinion. Cav brings so much realism to our hobby- wouldn't want any of ya'll or your horses getting hurt. :o

All the best- Johnny Lloyd:wink_smil

[Old Reb]

Re: AAR Bummers

I figure if folks couldn't find water in the Georgia hills following a hard rain, then their definition of water is not the same as mine. Note to event planners who ever they be. What can go wrong will go wrong. Note to the starving masses that couldn't find food. Fasting is good for you.

[Bill Cross]

Re: AAR Bummers

I figure if folks couldn't find water in the Georgia hills following a hard rain, then their definition of water is not the same as mine.

Lest those who didn't attend or those who were elsewhere and had water get the wrong impression, let me clarify: you not only can't get blood from a stone, but you can't get water from one, either.

The 2nd Division was at the top of the largest - or one of the largest - hills on the site. There were no cricks, no puddles, nothing we could boil or drink. Did you think we were that naive and lacking in field craft? Implying there was ample water shows a lack of understanding of the situation, but does make for snarky humor. And mocking those who lost heart is a great way for us to build the hobby. I don't recall signing up for "iron man triathlon reenacting 101." I'm glad I made it through the event, and I'm proud of those in my party (and later in the 2nd Division when I was asked to take over that role) for making it through.

Note to the starving masses that couldn't find food. Fasting is good for you.

This kind of comment is silly. The participants were told there would be "plenty of food" on Saturday. As I stated earlier, if you hype something a particular way, then you reap the whirlwind if you don't deliver, especially if there is NO WATER.

I told the members of my foraging party (the 48th IL) in advance of the event to "eat heavy" on Friday before registering, and those who saw me in the parking lot likely noticed my twin Big Macs in-hand just before walking down to registration. We had good unit cohesion, and most of us made it to the Saturday night campsite. But making sport here over the lack of food (which was NOT the big issue for those of us in the 2nd Division) is missing the point of the anger many felt and expressed to me then and later.

[Old Reb]

Re: AAR Bummers

Mr. Cross,
Perhaps you wish to build the hobby, but I have no interest in such. I have interest in showing the misery of being a soldier. That there was misery means it was a successful event in my eyes. I do not plan to inter into a spitting match with you because in truth, you matter not to me. Adios.

[MD_Independent]

Re: AAR Bummers

Mr. Wimsatt. That bottomless cup full of corn was courtesy of our own Ninety third Illinois for our own Third Division. We had a regular feast up there on Saturday after losing the rest of the division. You may have seen a ham bone, apple cores, peach can full of leaves and rocks, and such scattered about. Left it for your enjoyment. Bill Birney

[jake.koch]

Re: AAR Bummers

I just wanted to praise the quick thinking lunacy of Billy Birney, this being my first time ever serving as corporal at a real event, and the second time serving with Bill, I had to wonder at first what I did to make god mad enough at me to put him in my section. Seriously though I can't even begin to remember how many simply hilarious things that he said over the weekend that made everybody in our foraging party laugh out loud, I think I even managed tears once. I do remember him loudly comment to the effect that the attractive qualities of southern women were lacking. Our entire party went on to cheer a women who chased him down with a large wooden object.

[springkeeper]

Re: AAR Bummers

Hey Mr. Pete,

I saw the round loaf at the grocery and a mischievous grin spread across my face at the thought of seeing you boys bite into what you thought was nice, soft, white bread. NOT!

Miss Carrie

[mootpoint]

Re: AAR Bummers

To the most kind Mr. Birney: Thank you for the kind thoughts and warm wishes from the 93rd. It is good to know that our brothers in blue are looking out for us.

With the most sincerest, kindest, regards...

[Johnny Lloyd]

Re: AAR Bummers

Hey Mr. Pete,

I saw the round loaf at the grocery and a mischievous grin spread across my face at the thought of seeing you boys bite into what you thought was nice, soft, white bread. NOT!

Miss Carrie

I didn't have to brush my teeth after eating that bread, Carrie...


All the best- Johnny Lloyd:wink_smil

[cultboss124]

Re: AAR Bummers

Somewheres in Georgia
Nov. the 14th, 1864

My dear wife
I take pencil in hand to let you know that I aint been kilt by the seesesh bushwacker militia, nor fell oft the clif, nor drownt in the Flint river, nor starved to death on short rations, nor lost in the wilderness of this God forsaken place. Me & your cusin Bobby & your other cusin Bobby is all right so far but much the worst for ware. I’m a wonderen what derned fool dreamt up this most recent expeedition & if Uncle Billy maybe is tetched in the head agin like he wuz a couple yeers ago or if Grant is back to usen hard licker up to the captal city with all the Big Chiefs for whoever planed this wuz ether crazy or drunk—mebby both.
We struck out Friday night to forage from the local seesesh with orders to burn or trample what we could not eat or carry away. I never seen one of them nor burnt nothin tho I got issied a torch for that purpose. It com in handy later to scratch my back & I used the rag to wipe my ass but it wuz soked in lamp oil & the result wus most uncomfortible We wuz popped at from the hillside & deployed up the hill but found nary a one so we wus ordered to make camp. Next mornin we struk out on a road what run along the river at flood from all the rains. Now this here road wus warshed out & we soon had to take to the steepe & rocky hill side to make ar way forward. Now why we could not of found a nuther root is a puzzle to me fer we had three darkys who wuz a giding us along. Up & down the side of that mountain we went till I could not take a nuther step but here the boys from the compny helped me along. After enuf of this as eny man could do we com to a spot were the darkys said we could go no futher. Now we could nary go down as the river wuz a ragen so all we could do wuz go up & up we went. The clime wuz steep, almost strate up a rocky place & nuthin between me & the Flint river but a hunderd foot of thin air & I wuz a wunderen how I wuz a gonna make it when this feller reached down & grab onto my hand & pulled me up from certain death in a watery grave. I hope to get the chance to shake that fellers hand agin so I can buy him a beer. He deserves a 30 day furlow in Nashville as he wuz jest about the only one I seen who knowd what he wuz about. The oficers wuz all befuddled as to where we wuz to go & then we run out of water & thar wuz none to be had. Now twood a made sense to me to stay put till some person could figger out where we wuz & what we wuz to do but no sir, we wuz ordered down the far side of the mountain we jest com up, down a steep & slipry road of that derned red clay folks round here is allas goin on about. No sooner wuz we at the bottom when the capt. told us we wuz to march back up to the top. Then I heard a word I aint never heard in the Union army thru three years of hard service & that word wuz Mutiny! The fellers had about enuf & they sed so. Me & Bobby decided we wuz a goin back as we could not go on. We wuzn’t skeedadlen nor goin to desert as we got the capts permission. We bid farwell to our compny & struck out cross the pine groves & hills till we com to a road which we started up. We give out part way up a hill when who should com along but a feller in a wagon what give us a ride back to camp. He wuz a friendly sort name of Williams but he sed everyone thar abouts calls him Bobo. At first I thought he might be a Georgia bushwaker meanen to do us harm so I kept my rifle cocked & pointed in his general direction but Mr. Williiams brought us in safe & sound for which we wuz truly grateful. So here we ar me & your cousin Bobby recruiten up so we can see what the Big Chiefs can think of next. I surely hope they smarten up cause except for the darkys & a few of us Ohio boys, nobody else round these parts knows what the h--- they be doin.
Remember me to all enquiring friends. Your loving husband


If you get this answer quik & adress as before: Compny F 54th Ohio Volunteers

[hoosiersojer]

Re: AAR Bummers

One of the best times of my life!

Each of us this past weekend had many and various experiences. Some personal, some shared. Whether positive or negative I think we all can agree, they were certainly, unique.

I would first, like to applaud the coordinators for dreaming up such an awesome and realistic event. I can only imagine what a logistical nightmare it must have been for you.

Secondly, I would like to sing the praises of all the Civilians we came into contact with. Your hard work and dedication was instrumental in making the scenarios and the weekend real, to us.

Third, to my foraging party/ messmates, the 93rd Illinois. A guy couldn't have asked for a better group of soldiers to have fallen in with. Kudos to all of you! Your determination to see it through and your camaraderie made me feel I was a real part of a "Brothers in Arms". I made new Pards and hopefully you all feel the same. Special thanks and admiration go to Lt. Bevard and Sgt. Roscoe for their coolness under pressure, skills and concern for their charges. You guys ROCK!

This event, unlike so many others has given me an insatiable craving for more like it, and I can't wait for the next EBUFU to roll around...

"Billygoats, rise!"

[Hank Trent]

Re: AAR Bummers

Almost a year ago, Herb emailed me: "When the planning group had its last meeting at the site you came up as a good canidate for one of the escaped Andersonville prisoners who made their way to the Federal columns during the campaign."

As a starting point for research, Herb gave me a quote from a Union officer about some unnamed escaped Andersonville prisoners who arrived within the union lines. To my surprise, it was possible to pinpoint a specific group of three escapees at approximately the time and place of Bummers, and our prisoners eventually consisted of me, Chuck Reynolds, and newcomer Paul Morrison. I see Chuck has already posted his AAR, so this will overlap some, but what the heck.

I was portraying "Jay Culver," a fictional man based roughly on real-life Pvt. Jasper Culver, 1st Wisconsin Infantry, Co. K. The only changes were to account for the fact that I'm about twice his age.

The best I can figure, he was captured at Chickamauga, spent several months in prisons in Richmond and Danville, then was transferred to Andersonville in March, spent almost eight months there through the worst of the summer, escaped in November with two comrades, and walked eighty miles to join Sherman's army near Atlanta. Although his three-year enlistment had ended the previous month while he was still in Andersonville, he immediately reenlisted in the 21st Wisconsin, continued to participate in the march to the sea, and was finally mustered out in the spring of 1865. He testified at Wirz's trial, moved to Nebraska and then California, left a still-unpublished memoir, and lived to be over 80 years old.

So at the end of the event, when I said I thought I'd be fit for duty after a few days' rest and wanted to reenlist, yep, that was documented!

Chuck and I started Thursday morning on the southern end of the event site, walked north along the road and then into the woods due north, got lost, found our way, stopped by the empty cabins in the northeast part of the event site, saw Moss Falls and the church, and revisited the southern cabin a few times waiting for the occupants to move in. When it got dark, we camped in a ravine nearby.

Friday morning, we begged some food at the southern cabin, now occupied by three civilians, and started south to meet up with the third prisoner, "Elijah Gilmore," portrayed by newcomer to the dark side, Paul Morrison. We met him at our rendezvous spot on the east side of the event, decided to try to follow the river north, turned east on the trail by the falls to avoid the flooding, and Elijah noticed two baskets of food by the falls. We hid one basket and brought the other to the road and immediately started eating the bounty of corn and sweet potatoes raw. Though we forgot we needed to be careful of cavalry, we at least already had a plan if they came. Elijah, the most civilian-dressed of us three, would pretend to be a local who'd captured us two, using the only weapon we had among us, Chuck's knife.

While we were eating, the cavalry surprised us, and we began with our story, except Chuck was carrying the knife, not Paul. The cavalry searched us, took some of our food, discovered the knife on Chuck and warned Paul to search his prisoners better, and left us alone. Whew.

We carried some of the corn and sweet potatoes with us to the ravine behind the church and camped there, finding two more crates of corn. We were extremely surprised at the greenness and the sweetness of corn available in Georgia in November, and decided that was the only good thing about the whole state.

Saturday, we started up the ravine, hoping to try the road marked "To Atlanta," but saw some militia and also had to hide quickly from passing cavalry. Deciding northwest was too dangerous, and hoping to go northeast, we turned the other way, passed several civilians, used the story again to get some food from a cabin, and then saw a rebel picket before he saw us.

We hid in the woods and watched the rebels building breastworks, and cavalry coming and going, and realized we were pinned down and couldn't go north either way. Finally we heard some shots, guessed the federals were coming, and climbed down to the bottom of the ravine, then back up again through the woods, hoping to come back onto the road behind the federals. Instead, we ran into the rebels at the "hotel" cabin, where they were holding a group of federal prisoners.

It was obvious we were caught, but also obvious that they weren't planning to stay around, as the federals started pressing them again. Deciding anything was better than going back to Andersonville, and remembering some prisoners played dead to escape, I waded into the middle of the confusion of prisoners and cavalry, waited till I heard a shot, and took a hit. Thus began the strange reality of pretending to be someone who was pretending to be dead.

There's nothing in the rulebook about that, but to be fair, I decided if anything happened that would have given my ruse away--someone checking my pulse or looking for a wound, mutilating my body, a horse accidentally backing into me, etc.--I'd tell them that they discovered I wasn't really dead and deal with their decision what to do with me then. But luckily, everyone pretty much ignored "my body" except for a cursory search of belongings, until the prisoners and cavalry left, and someone dragged me behind the house. To my surprise, Chuck's body was dragged beside me, and he'd managed the same trick. Paul wasn't so lucky, and was marched off with the federal prisoners.

Again, to be fair, I decided that if a reenactor eventually came to tell us to resurrect, I'd ask what he would have done in real life if our bodies had continued to lie there, and then see if we would have had a chance to sneak off before being buried. But that was moot, as the federals almost immediately arrived in the clearing. We jumped up and were safe among our own soldiers again.

We spent Saturday afternoon and Sunday with the rest of the bummers around the cabin, eating ham and chicken, and annoying the Confederate prisoners and southern civilians, and marched out with the federals Sunday morning.

From my viewpoint, it was a great event. By starting early and having free range of the event site, we traveled virtually every trail and hill and hollow, and saw the incredible amount of preparation the organizers put into this event. Our little period version of the topo map worked well enough to get us around, both on the trails and up and down the ravines through the woods. We were allowed non-flat haversacks since we were starting early Thursday, even before the Easter eggs would be placed, so I brought a few pieces of cornbread with molasses and some peanuts. Since we didn't dare have a fire, we lived the first two and a half days on the food we'd started with (until most was stolen by the cavalry), plus raw corn and raw sweet potatoes we found, and a few handouts from the civilians, until Saturday evening when we shared the bummers' bounty.

From my viewpoint, water seemed plentiful from the streams and "wells." I had Micropur tablets, but Herb told us the runoff on the west side was safe to drink untreated, and I expect it probably was. The terrain was similar to what I usually backpack on (and what I live on, actually), so it didn't seem particularly challenging. We alternated between scrambling up and down hills in the woods, following trails, and lying hidden for what seemed like hours waiting to safely move again. We combined blankets and spooned at night, so didn't miss having a fire, and the days were perfect weather. The abundant sunlight made navigation by dead reckoning through the woods pretty easy. Did y'all notice all the shooting stars at night?

From my personal viewpoint: The organizers gave us all the support and logistics I needed or expected: a modern map that I could draw a period map from, a time and place to meet Elijah, a time and place to meet the federal army, a site with natural water supplemented by added water, and plenty of event-supplied food to replace stolen food if we worked to find it.

It was an incredibly detailed site, I had a wonderful experience interacting with everybody, and it was just an all-around dandy 72 hours. No complaints here at all. When are we doing it again?

Hank Trent
hanktrent@gmail.com

[Hank Trent]

Re: AAR Bummers

7. Getting brutally attacked by Hank Trent...

I hoped y'all would take it in the spirit it was given. Herb said my role was to stir up the federals into more Georgian-hating, and I couldn't have done it without you. :D

Hank Trent
hanktrent@gmail.com

[Hank Trent]

Re: AAR Bummers

1) From the folks who were there, how do you feel the participants as a whole did as far as staying in first person?

For what it's worth, our little group of three escapees and all the people we met briefly Friday and Saturday, were as consistent with first person as at any event I've seen. When two of us camped permanently with the federals at the "hotel" cabin Saturday evening, the first person was far above average for a campaign event. I heard quiet modern talk, but not loud and constant like I've heard at some military campaign events, and almost all face-to-face interaction with everybody I ran into was first person.

Our third prisoner, new-to-the-cph-world Paul Morrison, who was separated from us Saturday evening through Sunday, reported afterward that no one around him was in character among the captured federals with the militia where he was held prisoner, and when the modern talk was constant and about obvious non-reenacting things like modern music, etc., he just gave up and joined in. Admittedly, that's a second-hand report, and may only apply to those immediately around him, and he's somewhat responsible himself since he admittedly joined in, but he is a newbie and was probably unsure what to do other than follow more experienced reenactors' leads.

2) Those of you who made comments about water being scarce. Do you mean water that should have been provided? Or water that was available. I've read several accounts from the event that state creek water was plentiful.

Personally, I always take Micropur tablets "just in case," and there were three potential water sources spread out on site, two creeks that drained into a river. Their water was obviously drinkable when treated or boiled, and Herb had told us it was safe even untreated.

The ridges and heads of the ravines that fed into the creeks were bone dry though, so one would need to actually make a decision to march/walk downhill to either of the two main creeks or the river to find natural water--which might be half a mile or more through steep woods, and next to impossible to make canteen runs from the ridges on a moonless night.

I think sometimes that reenactors are used to water sources being positioned for them courtesy of the organizers, and sometimes don't think like period officers/soldiers, who had to take into account the terrain, and balance things like taking the high ground with the prospect of going thirsty while holding it, for example. But it does strike me as ironic that the same event can have complaints about roads being flooded and lack of water. What was preventing officers from rerouting the men to the creeks? Lack of maps? Lack of flexibility in their assigned routes or objectives? Occupation by the enemy?

Okay, that's my foray into period tactical advice, and I'd better shut up while I'm ahead because I know I don't know what I'm talking about.

All the remarks above are just from my perspective, and I've always found that people can be at the same event and have totally different experiences, depending exactly where they are and what their assigned role/mission was.

Hank Trent
hanktrent@gmail.com