AAR Bummers

[bushy chops]

Re: AAR Bummers

"On a final note- the woman with the baby indicated that Federals had taken the child's blanket. That's a pretty low move and should someone be foolish enough to admit to such a thing, the fate awaiting won't be a pretty one."

I carried a basket up the big hill for the lady holding the child. I watched that dear child brave the elements alongside grown men, with no coat or blanket....I have a few questions I want answered NOW....

Firstly...Is this true, Secondly...if so was it part of the scenario? Thirdly, If it is true, and was not part of a scripted scenario, who did it? I would like to beleive that this is not true, or was planned. If not, I want to know who did it, and why...there's a lot of fathers, including myself, that want to find out. If you know, respond.

To clear this up, the "blanket" was actually a scarf. The child's father was my file mate in the 116th IL. Our pard Patrick in the 99th IN saw the scarf hanging from a tree and thought it might belong to either my wife or my file mate's wife and didn't want any other Federals that we didn't know stealing it. He brought it over to us and the child's father wore it for the rest of the event. We wanted to return it to the child but First Person and other situations didn't allow for it.

The kid was fine, she is very hardy. She had a cloak and a blanket for the whole event. Although we both saw our wives, neither of us approached them, because it would be too hard to remain in fir-per and we didn't want to ruin it for everyone else.

[Sarah Belle]

Re: AAR Bummers

) Meeting Brandy and questioning her about what was up ahead in our path... I told them there was a Cav camp at the old church area! Jeez...

Can't blame me for getting captured!

Thanks for posting that pic of my Johnny. One of my favorite moments was watching you inspect my hankerchief closly! :wink_smil

[Bill Cross]

Re: AAR Bummers

And, an incident described earlier happened as well--Lt. Cross (I hope that name is right, if not please forgive) loudly and firmly chewed out Capt. Schneider over the conditions....BUT (and this was left out of the earlier account) he then also made it clear that he had done that for 'effect' and 1st person. I am quite sure there was no ill will intended, and if it was overheard it was misconstrued (which would have been easy to do).

To set the record straight, I was the officer so described, and yes, it was done in first person. A 14-hour, two-day drive home has robbed me of my exact words, but they were something like "I was sent down here by Division to lead this foraging party, and when I get back there, I will make a full report." I explained sotto voce to both Capt. Schneider and "Joe" (Marvin, you were terrific BTW) what I was doing, and they understood I was not really mad at them. Yet there was a kernel of truth to what I said, speaking up about the anger and frustration that a majority of us were feeling at that very moment: no one knew where the water was, most of the men had eaten nothing more than a small hunk of pork belly in almost 24 hours, and THERE WAS NO WATER.

Yet neither man could be faulted for that situation, as they were operating from the mis- or lack of information given to them. Jesus produced loaves and fishes; I'm not sure even He could have produced water for us just then, so we can hardly expect it from either Craig or Marvin.

I don't fault the participants who left (though I wish the ones in my party who did had let us know they were leaving), and I find it sad, petty and immature seeing posts here making personal attacks on their abilities, that they're really "streamers at heart" or "farbs." A lack of water coupled with a dangerous climb are a liability waiting to happen. Interestingly those making such posts seem to come from units who had water and found food. Don't judge another man until you've walked a mile (or in this case, several miles) in his brogans.

There were other serious issues, too: we had a man in our party injured before noon, but no one was sent to fetch him until nearly dark. Each time I complained about this, I was told "the radios don't work" or "the organizers have been told, they're working on it." By the time the medic actually went looking for him, he'd walked out (with the aid of another member of our party). Thank God he didn't get lost or hurt worse. It is said God watches over little children and drunks - and maybe in this case, Bummers.

I was also the one who encouraged the men thinking of leaving to stick with our group (not knowing the lay of the land, and with dark approaching, I figured sticking together was the best solution). I don't know if they would have been satisfied if they had stayed with us, but once we gained the Saturday night campsite, the event actually began for many of the rank & file(fellow RP Jim Peterson said to me that "Bummers" was really two events, up until 3PM Saturday and then from then one):

We got watered
We pillaged food
The men devolved into a mob (burning that hotel was a bit scary, and when someone asked me why we officers didn't commandeer it for ourselves, I replied "I think the men would be quite happy burning it down with their officers inside.")
We had a nasty skirmish, driving off the militia
We (mostly me) threatened two militia deserters with death if they didn't tell us the numbers opposite us (they did)
We stood guard
We built redoubts
We slept
We woke up on Sunday AM in better shape

Those who stayed did their best, and I believe most of us up on the hill had a good time.

But the event was advertized as a foraging experience, and most of us were busy doing everything EXCEPT foraging.

When you hype an event in a specific way, you court trouble if you fail to deliver on that hype. I personally enjoyed the challenge, both physical and emotional, as well as the opportunity to find solutions to our problems on the fly. The event burned through most of the daylight and all the men's strength in the 2nd Division (even the young ones in good shape) by traversing that flooded road and climbing up an escarpment that invited a lawsuit or a funeral.

Did we get a good period experience? Yes, but that wasn't what was advertized. There's a difference, and those who liked the event should understand that men who are marched ragged and denied food and water may not be happy hearing "that's how the boys of 1864 lived."

I had a great time. I was with many of my brother Rowdy Pards, had a first-rate Sergeant in Bill Rodman, and got ribbed and ridiculed all weekend from those ingrates in the ranks, Tiny Grimes, Jim Peterson, George Jurand and Sterling Sawyer, as well as a surprise visit from Amos Reynolds and Hank Trent. Fellow RP Taylor McCullen (along with Josh Mason) did a bully job as corporal. And thanks to all the boys of the 48th IL, including the Iron Grays and CVGs. My thanks, too, to Tripp Corbin for making lemonade Saturday after being handed some lemons.

One structural problem with CPH events is they don't usually repeat, often don't have the same organizers, so we don't have an opportunity to learn and improve on our mistakes. I took some mental notes from what happened, and listened carefully to what the rank & file said. I hope someday I can implement some of that in a bully event.

[tenfed1861]

Re: AAR Bummers

Ok.I'll drink the kool-aid.

I had a great time this weekend.The area we marched in was rough,but if the rumors were true,you can see why the Rangers in WWII trained there.Friday night was very intense from the start.Falling in and seeing the whole Federal line in torch light sent a shiver down my spin and made me think "God have mercy on the south".But after seeing the Federal on the side on the road with his throat cut,I thought of how I'd like to hang all southern trash.I think standing picket duty was hard simply because of the fact that I was constantly seeing or hearing things.There were times when I could have sworn that I was seeing figures in the darkness.The sense of fear was about to overcome me.

On Sat. morning,the 12th was ordered out to find a path for the corps around the mountain.While going through,my mind was racing of thoughts of how I'd like to burn the whole state of Georgia down,bomb Charleston to the ground,and do what the Romans did the Spartacus on the rebs (I think I was going a little mad).After what seemed like a mile of rough moving,we came to a dead end and was forced to climb a rock-face at a near 90 degree angle.After getting to the top,we rested for a few minutes,we were informed by a runner of Wheeler's Cav on top of the ridge.After a small fire fight,we met up with Mister Craddock and his men.After refilling our canteens,we pushed forward to find the cav and maybe some food.Luckily,Mister Craddock and his men were gracious enough to share some of their sweet potatos.After Brandy came into our lines,those of us in the 12th felt she was leading us into a trap,but when one really thinks on it,she did not.But after about 45 minutes of rest,we made our way to the double cabins to grab our first real bite of food in nearly 24 hours.But as we made our way to secure the cabin,I noticed a large man running (isn't always fun to watch Joe Blunt run).After taking some food over to part of our skirmish duty,the cav and milita overran us,and maybe 10 of us ran into the woods with our senior ranking officer being a sargent armed with a pickel jar.After regrouping,we made on puch up towards the cabin,but seeing as it was covered,we soon moved back into the woods,but soon,about 5 of us were overran by cav.After being taken prisoner,we were marched to the militia camp to find the sight of southern ladies giving us a scowl like none other.After feeling humiliated,we were linked up with our comrades in the P.O.W. area and settled in.Soon,we were ordered to return to obtain our muskets at the cabin,but discovered the site overran by our Federal brethern.Thinking Jubeelo was coming,we began to cheer,but were ordered back to the camp.Several of our boys escaped,but sadly I was not as I nearly took a shotgun blast to the face.We soon returned to the camp and settled in for the night,and I began to wonder my fate in the morning.

Sunday morning came with a great deal of excitement.We awoke,and were soon making plans to overrun the guards.As we heard gun fire get ever closer,we were ordered to sit on a log,but watched and cheered as our boys pushed ever closer.When the guards were distracted,we made our push foward and over took them with ease.As the milita began to retreat,I took Chris Henderson as a human shield to protect me (thanks Chris).After getting my rifle ,I soon found Liz Landrum in the cabin in full birthing stage.I secured some ammo,then found Liz Landrum wondering about with a slight dazed-look on her face.Feeling sorry for her baby,I tossed a dollar her way for the child's sake.After a slight fire fight,we made our way back to the parking lot,and then said a-due to Bummers.

Period Moments
~Seeing Brandy hovel in terror on Sat afternoon as I ran to get my rifle to drive off the cav.
~Feeling angry at the cavalry,and yet scared at the same time.
~Marching into the militia camp to feel humilitated as we were being staired at like animals in a zoo.
~The feeling of joy as the Federal drove the milita back,then to rush the guards.
~Hearing (I believe) Carrie Craddock screaming in sheer terror at the battle raged around her house.
~Hearing the women inside screaming at the Feds while Liz was giving birth.
~Seeing Liz wonder in a kind of daze after the fight.
~Tossing a dollar into the cabin only to have the women inside yell insults back.

But the best part was meeting lots of people for the first time and seeing old friends.Johnny,Thad,Chris,Brent,Will,Nick Clark,it was a true pleasure meeting all of you.Chris,thank you for allowing me to use you as a human shield.Kaelin,Patrick Lewis,it was pleasre to serve under y'all.Liz,sorry you got hit in the eye.Pat Craddock,thank you for scarring me with "bacon poisoning".

The event was hard.It was painful at times.I was tired,hungry,angry,thirsy,and scared.And I wouldn't trade it in the world.

Now it's time to take the dogs out,have a bourbon and smoke,and watch the meteor shower.

[Milliron]

Re: AAR Bummers

Interestingly those making such posts seem to come from units who had water and found food. Don't judge another man until you've walked a mile (or in this case, several miles) in his brogans.

Well that's just it, isn't it? A whole bunch of us did. I did all of Saturday on a sweet potato and a canteen of water. I'm 41 years old and fly a desk for a living. If I can do it, I promise you a 20-something can (or at least should).

Now, I can understand the dismay with not having any interaction with anyone almost all day. I was a little dismayed too. If folks left because of that, I can relate. This was a foraging event. Any event that tells you you're going to be stuck in the unholy geological union of Rich Mountain and Pickett's Mill with a flat haversack ought to be fair notice that you're in for it. Water was a problem to be solved. Those who adapted solved it. Those who didn't left, I suppose. I for one never felt like I was in any danger. Uncomfortable perhaps, but not in danger.

Highs:

Watching an angry Secesh woman break her crockery on the doorstep rather than give it over to the Yankees was awesome. So were the jeers that followed. I was really blown away by the presence of a baby. Being the father of two small children, that gave me very mixed emotions about what was to transpire.

The walk up that beautiful hill in the morning. It was taxing, but oh, what a view.

The sound of hoofbeats coming down a trail you're supposed to be defending. You Critter boys almost got us that time. We made the mistake of assuming the gunfire to our front meant you ALL were there. Then the other half galloped into our rear. Major pucker factor and I nearly fell off the damn mountain while emptying my Henry in your general direction. Fortunately that or the ridiculous slope stopped you guys.

Resting on a sunny, piney hill as the rear guard while the rest of the group made sweet potato stew with creek water in a small valley. It almost stopped sucking at that moment.

Lows:

The night advance up the hill to chase out the militia who were skirmishing to our front. I hated it and was sure I would be injured. I stopped my pard from falling off a big rock, clambered up that awful slope in the dark and then climbed back down the SOB. Not fun.

The lack of anything happening for most of the day Saturday. Also, I believe the food placement to be ill-conceived. It ended up being more like a scavenger hunt than anything. We actually gave a basket of sweet potatoes to the party who came up behind us because they were so wiped out.

I would have liked more firper interaction with civilians. I was assuming there would be multiple locations where this would occur. The end result seemed rather contrived.

I knew the water situation would spell trouble for some people. It wasn't a problem for us, but I could see how others would get bent out of shape. The problem was solvable, but perhaps a little intimidating for some.

Gottlieb Muetschler
1st MO Engineers

[MercyAngel62]

Re: AAR Bummers

After the fight at our cabin on Sunday, we noticed that some of our personal things were pilfered through. I thought personal items were off limits. :angry_smi As a result, I am missing a large tin tankard. I would like it back.

If anyone knows about this, I would appreciate getting it back. Thanks.

[mootpoint]

Re: AAR Bummers

The following is gathered by Bill Wimsatt. It was a blast! Sorry some did not have the time I did, but the following is my recollection:


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 14, 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 Jay 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 15, 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 team 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

[Spinster]

Re: AAR Bummers

Gunny Hicks' report of the amount of edibles on site and their acquisition brings up another factor--the amount of lootable plunder on site.

Certainly a tremendous amount of lootable plunder was provided by the civilian participants themselves, some of it inadvertantly, if the emails flying about privately attempting to reclaim this or that are any measure. (Huck, not only did you drink hospital scrub soap, but the lady is up in my email wanting her bottle back :D)

Much more plunder was provided by foresight on the part of Herb Coats, in a manner I found most entertaining. Not many women get to go shopping carrying some nice young man's wallet.

Back in August, I started out bright and early one Wednesday morning not far from my Alabama home at the southernmost extremity of the US Highway 127 Yard Sale (AKA, The World's Longest Yard Sale). Along the way I picked up Beverly Simpson. By Sunday, we had been to the northern terminus in Ohio and doubled back. Along the way, a number of folks added to the pile by choice and by chance, and we consulted with Rick and Jill Bailey on bottles and glassware, beat Nicky Hughes to a prize, and carted off one of the most intimidating ancestral portraits I've ever seen ( and I've got some mighty jugeared, crosseyed folks on my walls).

Beverly Simpson sifted through trunks of .10 cent glassware in the broiling sun to find the one glass out of 20 with the right look. Mark Simpson patiently hauled sacks and bundles across fields while we looked at "just one more thing" and then drove the vehicle through massive traffic jams. Over and over again, Jill Bailey said "no, we can do better".

From a complete set of china, to glassware to silver flatware and holloware, to jugs and crocks and portraits, straight chairs and rocking chairs, ..............some of it spot on, and absolutely right to the period, some of it meeting what Rick Bailey termed "oh, its 80% right-its 30 years off", but for the price , the provenance and the purpose ( cheap, modern repro, break it quick before somebody looks too close) it was grand. We also cleaned out a pile of stuff to donate ourselves.

Eventually, I hauled all this stuff over near Atlanta to my Aunt Kathrine's home, which has also served as the boarding house as The Pretty Girls and I went back and forth to the event site. We held out that which we intended to haul ourselves and filled her back porch with plunder, all stacked and wrapped. Aunt got interested in the project, and added some too, then called Herb to come pick it up.

She said he is a nice young man.

[Huck]

Re: AAR Bummers

I stayed alway from that bottle, that stuff was evil. I even tried to re-cork that genie. But here in Colorado it's 10pm and I think I have at last killed that taste in my mouth. If that bottle is missing, I don't have it, I learned to smell stuff before I drink it.

[missourirelics]

Re: AAR Bummers

One of the best experiences I have ever had. We pulled our mountain rifle all over the dang place, but all made it, although the last run I did up the hill as we were falling back Sunday morning about finished me off....I was glad it was the last of the ammunition.

My pard and I were on picket near where the cav jumped the federals in the two cabins, we hurried to their assistance and arrived in time to help corral prisoners and repulse another effort to free them. As being far from our mountain rifle makes me nervous, I was glad to return quickly.

It pushed us to feel the everyday toil of boredom, hunger, and confusion that so often followed the armies in all states during the war. We loved it.

Paul Arnold
Georgia Militia Artillery

[Matt Woodburn]

Re: AAR Bummers

Well Bummers was everything I had hoped for and ranks as the most realistic experience I've had in 30 years. I consider myself to be the most priveledged Lt. of the weekend as I was given charge of a hand picked group consisting of only the toughest men nature can provide. Nary a grumble, only laughter at any hardship we faced. Guys, thank you! You made my, Lt. Mattis', job in the 1st Missouri Engineers so easy.

Friday we marched out to the river road and the column halted. Capt. Corbin informed me that my party was to immediately go on picket about 150 yards up a steep hill. We began our trek up the hill which we found was moslt loose stones covered with dry leaves. It was very slppery and completely dark, so I told the men to walk slow and take their time to prevent an injury. Several, including myself, fell during this climb, but all made it to the top without injury. Instead of creating seperate posts, I felt due to the terrain, a single line would keep the men in contact with each other, cover the necessary frontage, and prevent unnecessary walking. This worked well and the boys laughed at the tought position. I was called back to the road on bottom by Captain Corbin to discuss the relief and the need to move my line 50 yards along the ridge to unmask 2nd Division. I returned up the hill and made the adjustment to my line. The move was popular among the men. At 11:30 I decended the hill again with Sgt. Runyon. I was to locate the relief and assigned Sgt. Runyon the duty of finding a dry place for the men to sleep. All was accomplished and the men bedded down by 12:30am.

Saturday: The Great Gittin Up Day - Gonna Get Clean!
We stoked up the fire and cooked the small ration of bacon issued the night before. I kept one chunk in my haversack for which we were later grateful. We scraped the bottoms of everyones haversacks and produced enough coffee beans to make a small portion of coffee. I was told we were to relieve Lt. Craddock's company that was on picket and had been since 4am. The sgts. saw to filling canteens while we boiled two more dippers of coffee for Lt. Craddock's boys. Our coffee made it up the hill to Craddock's men, but Lt. Craddock did not want to decend the hill if he needed to climb it again which was reported to Capt. Corbin. The captain said we would need to further down the road. Lt. Craddock said he'd make his was along the ridge but wanted support instead of being at the top alone. I had placed my men part way up the hill during this exchange and it was decided that we would depart from the river road and join the hilltop party. Each party took two parallel roads, but they eventually diverged and we lost track of Craddock's men. By the sharp eyes of my gallant band, we found food, corn and sweet potatos, stashed off the side of the road on two occasions and filled our haversacks to the brim. Upon hearing firing, we began to make our way in that direction. We never found exactly where the firing came from, but did move to the edge of the property requiring us to double back. Realizing that it was noon, the men having half to a quarter canteen of water, and constanly being on the move for three hours, I stopped at a creek. It was a small clear tributary flowing fast from a high hill, and I intended to get water. Having 18 men in the party, I gave instructions for three fires to be built, food to be cut into the smallest and thinnest pieces for fast cooking, and everyone got to their work. We boiled our food making as much broth as possible, it being as essential as the food itself. Private Ewing went ahead from our familiar creek bed to insure our road was ahead. Everyone rested, ate and was as refreshed as the situation would allow.

We began up the road and came across a Yankee that said he and eight others were in the 52nd Ohio from 2nd Division and wanted to go with us. I told him they were welcome to fall in with us. Then he asked where we were going. Now not sure if he was a Yankee or a spy, I told him I would not answer where we were going. He chose to remain behind which raised my suspicions about him considerably. We climbed a great hill that fairly cleared out at the top. At the summit, Walsh and Muehleisen captured two rebels who were brought to me. I immedietely seperated them for questioning. Both had desterted from the Tenth Georgia and just wanted to go home to Columbus. Their stories fairly well matched so I had them brought together. I didn't want prisoners to tend to and I didn't want a threat in my rear, so I relieved the chaplain of his side arm and presented it to one of my sgts. as a gift. The other fellow had a small pepperbox with no ammunition, and I found it so heavy and unwieldy that I considered it no more dangerous than a rock at that point. Seeing as anyone around could equally match him, I let him keep it. They gave me information where we could find more food and I sent them homeward. Two of my men had family in Missouri recently killed by bushwackers and jumped out to shoot these men. Knowing that shooting unarmed men in the back would make them the equal to the low murderers in Missouri, I stopped their shooting and said they would have their chance later. Down the road two of my party found the food where the rebels said it would be. When the food was brought to the intersection where the rest of us were, a party from the 2nd Division showed up. They had little water or food so we took some of the food and gave them about half a bushel of sweet potatos. I shared what the rebels told me about the food with their captain during which time one of my sgts. said two militia were spotted on the road to my right. I suggested the captain look further along the road where we just found the food while I looked into the militia issue. I moved up the hill to the point where my men spotted the militia, could not see so decided to continue in that direction to investigate. Within a quarter mile we came across two homes, locals and a yard filled with Federals. All day I had felt fairly exposed after losing contact with Craddock, and this was a welcome sight. We quickly found water, drank and filled canteens. During this time we found some 1st Division familiar faces who told us of the capture of a number of our friends. How two parties had been here earlier in the day, and how the locals had informed the Confederates of their presence leading to their capture. I was infuriated. I took my party to the rear of the property, informed them of the potential danger of staying in the place and that conspiring with the enemy was going to be dealt with harshly. Our plan was discussed and put into motion. (I quietly checked with the event organizers on site to make sure I wasn't going over the line and was given a green light.) One of the cabins had a sign on it that said Lone Star Hotel. Alright that one loses. Men were assigned what to do with coal oil. Others were assigned to torches. Others assigned to stop or shoot anyone that interfered with us. I walked to the first cabin and informed the inhabitants that they had two minutes to get whatever belongings they could carry and start down the road. I told the inhabitants of the next cabin they had two minutes to do the same. The matron of the house put up a great protest, said she had been told she would not have to leave, that her house would be protected, and some other nonsensical drivel. Then she asked me why she had to leave. Not being in the mood for discussion, and knowing any answer I produced would not be sufficient, I simply laid a fact before her. I told her she had wasted 15 seconds which immediately produced an unprecedented hustle. A couple in the "hotel" moved fast. I think the man may have been in the military before and knew what was happening. The hens in the main house gathered what they could carry and then informed me that her dishes were her mother's and she'd rather break them than see Yankees smash them. She set to breaking them and anything else breakable on the rock foundation of the house. If we would have disturbed them at all, it would have only been to eat off of them, but delight nonetheless. Watching the sad spectacle, I thanked the matron for saving me the energy. I then set to the task of the hotel. My boys had filled it with hay, dowsed it with coal oil and brought forth torches. In less than one minute, I saw flames do things I had never seen in my life. And I saw the balance of the other Yankee foraging parties in the yard commence to looting the house. That also took less than one minute. (Someone from another foraging party did produce a camera to capture the firery moment. Sorry if that broke first person without the Howell Cobb introduction. Whoever took it, I'd like a copy.) Later that night the Lone Star Hotel sign was replaced on the still burning remains with a new sign that read RETRIBUTION INN and the castle symbol of the engineers. As residents of the new inn, my party settled in around the burning remains and used the fire to cook our dinner. We got to sleep early in hopes of finding more food tomorrow.

Sunday
We had a breakfast of sweet potatos and I was fortunate enough to be presented with a poke of tea by one of my boys. Along the march route I had collected a silver tea pot and Lt. Landrum had acquires a silver serving tray. I prepared what we needed and Lt. Landrum and I properly served Capt. Corbin morning tea complete with milk and honey. All was served in the silver which made for a good laugh. Now if we only had white gloves...
I took it upon myself to get the 1st Missouri Engineers moving down the road early and stopped at an intersection. This spot needed to be held so the column could get back to the Division. The column passed thirty minutes later and I waited for the trouble to begin. I had the men posted down the roads and placed the balance in a line that would allow me to quickly move them into a place to defend either approach. The cavalry came first and our Henrys being well placed turned them back. The men on my right saw the cavalry moving around us in the valley below. I had a suspicion of what they were attempting. The infantry moved up the hill toward us and then stopped. If we were delayed too long I was afraid the cavalry would ride all the way around us and we would be caught in the middle. Waiting as long as I thought prudent, I pulled my right line to move behind the line in front of the infantry to begin our retreat. We moved quickly down the road only to be hit by the cavalry in our rear. Placing repeaters in the rear proved to be well thought out and I knew they were not cutting us off yet. As we decended the mountain, the enemy infantry caught up and began firing. I had the men leap frog down the mountain, one half covering while one half moved. We made it to the river road only to see some of the infantry was trying to flank us higher up the hill. We began to run down the road toward division headquarters and then came the cavalry. They had not cut us off but pursued us hotly. A brief exhange of fire occured between the parties. As I fired my last rounds from my Henry, a johnny rolled right back in his saddle taking a .44 slug. I didn't wait to see him fall from his saddle as I turned to run the last few yards out.

Bummers was fantastic in my book. The hosts worked their butts off and delivered to me everything they promised. My hat is off to them. I've been in the hobby for 30 years, actually spent close to 2 years of my life "in the field" and have seen just about all of it (I hope there's a little new left). And I've worked to put on more than one event myself. I know some of you didn't have a good time. I'm sorry, I've been there too. And what I learned years ago was to research the daylights out of an event so I really know what I can expect from an event and what will be expected from me by the event.

For the guys I was with at Bummers. Thank you for a great foraging party and experience. I loved it and I know many of you said you did too. Everyone of you added something special to my weekend. While I do not intend to leave anyone one out, my brain just can't remember it all so forgive me.

Steve Ewing, Casimer Rosiecki and Jordan Rickets were absolutely tireless as they constantly ran ahead, checking every road and hill before we brought the rest of the party forward. They truly never stopped running all weekend.

Sgt. Justin Runyon instructed the men in properly running a patrol for the greatest protection of the group and kept constant track of the details to not overly fatigue any one person. This instruction was crutial for the success of the weekend.

Sgt. Scott Busenbark was responsible for overseeing the leading men as we patrolled the Georgia contryside and relaying the information back to me. This required Scott to run forward and back to the group countless times to relay information and I cannot speak highly enough of his energy.

The rear guard consisted of John Walsh, Bob Muelheisen and Corp. Jason Adams. They were constantly vigilant. On Saturday while the group boiled creek water and ate, they remained on a hill to our rear to keep watch. On Sunday when the cavalry made their second menacing attack, their immediate reaction to alert our group provided the precious seconds needed to take cover and not get over run.

Chris Hettinger served as chef for Saturday night's supper and he really worked hard doing an amazing job. All had a hearty portion of ham, corn, sweet potato and "some other ingredients" soup. It was really good.

Tom Lowe it was just nice to meet you. I've heard your name many times and even though we run with the same guys, we've just never had a chance to meet.

Scott Gulley, Adam Clark and Mike Potts, it was great to see old friends and I hope you both can get out more. It's always good to have the old hands in the ranks.

Andy Martin you always seem to pick the best events to attend. Shiloh, W64, now this. You have the choose well thing down pat. Tell me what you're doing next year so i make sure I'm going to more great events.

Jeremy Snyder covered the retreat remaining behind, I passed him as he layed down by the road taking aim, thinking of the success of returning food to our battalion instead of his own personal safety. Darren Farley did the same and seemed to be satisfied being taken prisoner before he would let harm come to our group. He used his Henry with great speed covering our precarious decent on Sunday.

And at the end of the event, my precious band carried out a bushel of corn in the husks and a 50 pound bag of corn for the men back in our battalion. Well done guys.

ESSAYONS! (Let us try!)

Formerly Lt. Silas Mattis
1st Missouri Engineers

[WestTN_reb]

Re: AAR Bummers

The Good:
-The reality of the boredom and "hurry up and wait" that come with army life.
-Great pards. Company A, Georgia Militia, Captain Poythress, Lt. Gangler, and the rest of the "Dirty Baker's Dozen" were outstanding compatriots.
-The chicken broth, fresh corn and baked sweet potatoes on Saturday.
-Creating a diversion while the rest of the battalion attacked a Federal position.
-The shielded area covered in pine needles that J.R. found for us to sleep in Saturday night.
-Prison break, and rushing to recapture the prisoners.
-Charging the Federals and rescuing a company of captured militia.
-Making new friends.

The Not So Good:
-Toting that d***ed ham all over the place, only to surrender it to the commissary.
-Way too many peanuts!
-The heat, coupled with the fact there was no shade on that bald hilltop.
-The "boiled rubber duckie" that came with the chicken broth on Saturday.

The Hilarious
-Mr. Wrinn's preoccupation with being raped by either the Federals or Skunk Ape.
-The elder gent in our company inquiring as to the best way to keep a lert, whether salted lert or smoked lert (you probably had to be there).
-Same elder gent telling the Federals to change their pants after our mad charge to free our prisoners.

All in all, I would rank this as one of the best events I have ever attended. Thanks to Kiev Thomasson, Hunter Poythress, Joey Gangler, and everyone else involved for making this such a memorable event.

[NYCivilWar]

Re: AAR Bummers

I hate to get caught up in internet banter, because it is usually just a waste of time, but I feel that I need to post yet another perspective on the event....

I’ve never personally been ripped off by a midnight infomercial, but now I think I know what it feels like. The product advertised, was not the product received.

Others in the 2nd and 3rd divisions have already detailed the difficult march of Saturday morning, so I will not go into that. But, as it approached 3pm on Saturday and we hadn’t seen a single civilian, Georgia militiaman or any food (which we were all eagerly looking for), the event scenario—to me—became questionable. I had no expectations for this event to be a power-burner, but I did expect to FORAGE, which, for the Federals, was our main goal. If this were truly 1864 and we were truly foraging parties, and came back to our regiments with the amount of food that we found this weekend there would have been many ticked off soldiers in our regiments. I realize that Sherman’s men didn’t find a ton of food every day, but they had the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. We had the weekend, or at least a couple of hours on Saturday.

For those of you that had the best event ever, I envy your experience. Did I get the experience of being lost, tired, hungry and thirsty, yes, BUT I'VE HAD that experience at other events in the past. This was SUPPOSED to be unique and different event, and that’s why I registered, made the long trip down, and spent the money to attend. Many of you who had the Civil War moment of your life, keep stating that you were challenged mentally and physically, and pushed the envelope for Civil War living history. But I ask you, why then did this event have to take place in Georgia, why was it sold as a recreation of Sherman’s bummers foraging? What would be the difference between this event and ANY OTHER event that you were tired, hungry, thirsty, and challenged at? Again, I truly wish I would have had a better time, wish I would have gotten to get to the top of the hill first, wish I would have gotten to see some cavalry, and militia and had interactions with civilians. It seems though that only about a 1/3 of those Federals in attendance got to do that—which is why I am sure you had a good time. Some of us though, took a walk in the woods with old-timey clothing on. Not what was sold. And this is why I did not enjoy my time in Georgia.

[fahnenschmied]

Re: AAR Bummers

Well, as a member of the 63rd Ill. we were part of the group that saw nary a civillian all day Saturday, and no plunder save a basket of sweet potatoes late in the afternoon. After we finally made it to the hilltop campsite for the night, and food and water, I was amused to see fresh corn. Whats wrong with that, you may ask? Well, not even Jeff Davis could get sweet corn in November of any year during the 1860s. Just isn't to be had. If you are halfway observant, you'll see that there is no corn left in the fields now, only dead stalks.
So what, you ask? Well, I fretted over getting a decent two rivet scabbard and wondered why a bullseye canteen was not desired, only have food that didn't exist then. Bullseye canteens and seven rivet scabbards existed in November of Shermans march - fresh corn didn't. I thought to myself - why no watermelons? They are just as out of season as fresh corn.
Also amusing at an authentic event was the food brought up on a white pickup. I also observed its taillights retreating up the hill after the fight on Sunday, I assume it was pulling the artillery, as it wasn't to be seen when we got to the little cabin where it had been firing. At least I didn't see it.
Also disapointing is that we were never really able to enjoy our foraged food. After we robbed two families who lived in houses not fit for slaves, we only nibbled at what could be eaten raw. At the end of the event much of this was just tossed, including some poor chicken who was murdered and reportedly raped at hands of a fellow Bummer.
All in all, though, it was interesting. One of the few times I have ever shot at the enemy at a realistic distance. I also liked my "new" regiment and its officer, and like the rest of the Billy's Goats, amazed that so many made it and so few got hurt.

Dave Stone

[Spongebucket]

Re: AAR Bummers

Two words
F***ING AWESOME

Good work folks and thanks for a memorable time.
Joe Blunt