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Re: AAR Bummers
From my perspective
Thanks Co 'D' 11th Gerogia Militia for me it was an Immersion Event
Company ‘D’ 11th Georgia militia Captain Michael Comer commanding, a company being made up of boys and old men , myself being 57 years of age ,assembles at a little crossroads town outside of Molena, Georgia near Macon. Other companies begin to drift in as the regiment begins to assemble. By 10pm the battalion is ready for a night march, feeling for the vanguard of the Federal advance. The route we are to take is a farm wagon road, rutted and rocky winding up hill and down, the going is tough in the dark, but we move at a rapid pace towards the enemy .After a march of several hours, we make camp along the side of the road we are traveling .I carry an oil cloth and one thin blanket tied over my shoulder, my shotgun, belt, canteen and an empty haversack as rations have not come up. We are ordered to get some sleep, sleep on our arms: accoutrements on. the night is clear and cool, I suspect about forty degrees. Rolling up in my blanket I gaze at the brilliant Milky Way wondering what lies ahead, I think of my home and of the poor wretches who are in the path of Uncle ‘Billy’s’ wolves. Then fatigued from the march I drop off.
The sound of men stirring and the low whispered orders of the sergeants awaken me before first light, I reckon it to be about 4am, it’s dark and cold, small fires started by the few who have meager rations twinkle about me. Water is located and canteen details head for the well. Someone comes around with a sack of goobers, goobers and water ,breakfast ..Better than nothing! Fires are put out, roll call, roll up my stuff and carefully place my clean dry socks in my blanket roll; I will save them for another day, and find my place in line. We march out towards the east, the sun still resting below the dark horizon.
The route of our march takes us into the woods along these country wagon roads, I think to myself that this part of the state is primarily used for growing rocks, nothing but steep hills and red earth and rocks. We pass a small house the only occupants are women all of their men either in the regular army or dead. Along the route there are others carrying all their belongings in carts and on their backs, fleeing Atlanta and the path of the Federals. They camp in the woods or try to find refuge with relatives.. Mostly women and young children. We are cheered and offered some fruit and other edibles but it is evident this is all the sustenance these poor people have. Somewhere I guess around 10am we stop. In the distance shots are heard, one platoon of the company advances in the woods along the roadside in skirmisher formation, the lieutenant leading a detail advances ahead. Shortly the word comes back the road ahead is clear, just a few houses and civilians. The march continues at the route step up another hill, all these hills go up into the woods is there any flat land here? Relaxing a little the men strike up conversation discussing the merits and faults of Governor Brown, Jeff Davis, the Confederacy along with problems keeping the darkies in the fields and getting crops in. most of us feel that ‘Old Jeff Davis’ has deserted Georgia and left us to fend for ourselves .We are ordered to halt and deploy as skirmishers. Word has it the Yankees are about , where, no one is sure, The major arrives with orders from the Lt Colonel for company ‘D’ to break to the right of the road and man the crest of the hill overlooking a narrow valley, the federal s are reported to be coming that way looking for water and forage. Again off in the distance several shots are heard but no sign of the enemy. Crouched behind a tree on the downhill slope I wait and watch, observing corporal Donovan head down into the valley and up along the adjacent hill , after awhile some stretch out, some nibble ‘goobers’ or smoke, the morning wears on in boring silence. Nothing. This would be an excellent position to bushwhack the Yanks should they come down this valley but no such luck. Several hours pass and it is decided that we abandon this position and move further along the road.
We form column and continue our trek thru the woods again, firing in the distance reminds us that we are here in defense of our homes. Again word is passed down that the Federals are nearby. We are ordered into line and up a steep hill probably a hundred yards to the summit, seems like straight up, pulling myself up by grabbing tree trunks I struggle to the top. We face left and fan out in a skirmish line from the base of the hill to the summit using tree trunks for cover we await the marauders. At the top of the hill running parallel to road below is another wagon road leading down to a crossroads of sorts where a few houses are located. We are deployed along the hill in sections, each section having watch for an hour then relieved by the next section. We wait in this position for hours; I almost drop to sleep in the warm afternoon sunlight several times. Relieved, we move twenty yards to the rear and catch some sleep, smoke or just wait around till we next go on the line. Hours pass. No sign of the federals, again random shots are heard but nothing comes of it. The colonel arrives back from conferring with the advance scouting patrol and orders the captains to form companies on the aforementioned road at the top of the hill.
I am at the rear of the company with the sergeant and corporal tramping up the road, alongside we pass the first house populated by five women, some young some older , several families I think. We tip our hats as we amble by and continue towards the crossroads. Captain Comer drops back and orders Sergeant Perkins to take the corporal and two volunteers back and search the house we recently passed. We are told that some of these women may be disloyal and might be passing along information to the enemy concerning our numbers. We are looking for contraband withheld from our hungry men, maps or any other sort of indication that these may not be loyal Georgians. Myself, being one of the ‘volunteers’, (an old army friend once told me never volunteers for nothing, how true these words would soon be.) Maybe we can get some food after all, if it is offered we will not refuse. At the cabin the women wonder what we are back for and it is explained we have been ordered to have a look around. The ladies protest that they are Georgians whom we are sworn to protect. They are told to wait outside while we look around, one of the women protests loudly, the corporal physically, but gently, has to restrain her. A couple of refugees pass by as all this is going on, Some chickens are discovered hidden in a covered coup one of the boys eyes them and suggests we borrow one, but the sergeant keeps all in good order, finding nothing we are about to leave when one of the ladies uncovers a ham and wheel of cheese, suggesting we take a slice each, we see this is all they have and accept a small piece of cheese and hurry back to the column. As we form detail and march away the protester derides us for invading their home, Sergeant Perkins allows how we were ordered and did what we were told ,and how’s they would be thinking differently about us,if those blue wolves come through.
Our detail continues up the road till we reach the crossroads where we expect to reunite with the company. There is some commotion here. The company is nowhere to be found except for a few stragglers who inform us that the company went up into the hills to our left. In the woods to my right I see some fifteen to twenty Yankee prisoners guarded by home guard and some cavalry milling about. There is a cabin at the intersection where some of the women refugees from Atlanta I suppose, have set up house. They offer us some pickles which are gladly accepted. I spy a well and we all head over to fill our empty canteens. Along the way back I enter into conversation with two of the prisoners who relate to me that they were cut off and surrounded by cavalry and captured. This accounts for the firing we had heard earlier during the day. Corporal Donovan sidles up to an unguarded table where a few sacks of salt pork wait for distribution, he nicks a piece as do I and head over to the stragglers from our company to find which direction the boys went. Suddenly, I her a voice behind me order me to place my shotgun on the ground and put my hands up, first thought this to be a prank, turning around Major Hicks who is pointing his revolver at me reiterates the order, the four of us are surrounded and we lay down our weapons. I am in a quandary as to what is taking place..Remember when I mentioned earlier my recollection of being told never volunteer? Well here is one good reason why!!!
We are placed under arrest as shotguns are leveled at us. Sergeant Perkins demands an explanation. Major Hicks states that two civilians witnessed our raid on the helpless women of Georgia back at the cabin that we were foragers worse than the Yankees preying on the people we are here to defend. The sergeant protests loudly that we did no such thing, we were ordered by our captain to go back and search for contraband and see if the reports of disloyalty may be true. The Major counters that we were observed stealing their food and possessions. We are placed under guard and I’m now sitting in the pen alongside the federal prisoners I was just conversing with. We are being detained till a courts martial can be held. Protesting all the while, Sergeant Perkins demands we be kept in a better place than with this Yankee vermin; he demands that our captain be notified so he can verify our story. We are told to shut up and sit down, all this will be attended to. Now here we are facing death at the hands of our own men, what thanks we get for risking all for these people .An hour goes by, the captain arrives and is engaged in discussion with major Hicks over in the crossroads. Captain Comer departs as the major steps towards us , we are released, we are needed sorely on the line, this matter will be have to wait, we are allowed our weapons back and head off towards the rest of our company.
Another walk up another hill brings us to our men; the captain welcomes us back and questions the sergeant as to what transpired. I find my place on the line overlooking the same valley a little further south of our first position. Again we wait. As daylight fades we are relieved by another company and March off back towards the crossroads, where we halt, receive orders where to make camp for the night, we, thankfully, are not on guard duty tonight. All the other companies are now in the same vicinity. After a short march we fan out on this desolate defoliated hill, fires are started blankets tossed on the ground marking each mans place for the night. Rations still have not come up; I have only a handful of goobers and some water. One of my comrades offers me a piece of hardtack and some jerky a feast in light of the food situation. I’m happy to have this in fact I save half the hardtack cracker for breakfast, this will be most likely all I’ll get. The day has been warm and clear, the weather good, as the sun sinks, the air begins to chill, going to be cool tonight. I decide to treat myself to that clean pair of socks; such small things in normal life are as great comforts out here. Removing my shoes which have not been off for days I rub my sore feet and slide them into the socks, now to see about keeping warm, I’ll leave my frock coat on and wrap my blanket around me like a cocoon. The night is cool and clear, the night sky is beautiful, and the stars shine bright, in the distance random shots remind us that the War is still here. We have not encountered the enemy except those few prisoners, but they are out there in force. Perhaps with tomorrow will come our real test?
The day dawns bright and clear, the Captain allows the men to sleep till seven; I’ve been awake sometime now as the dew and the cold have penetrated my blanket. I roll up my blanket and cloth and walk over to the fire. Warming myself, I listen to the rumors and stories of the approach of the Yankees, some homes just east of here were torched and the occupants, women and children, thrown out into the night, their food confiscated. Joe Wheelers Cavalry is dashing about, these boys despise us militia and never miss a chance to make that known. They are an arrogant bunch, but as with us the only organized force left to oppose Sherman. Breakfast consists of some water and that other half of hardtack cracker I saved, a comrade somehow has made a cup of coffee and offers me a swallow, been a long time since I had a taste of coffee. Officers are called to a meeting down the road apiece, so we best be getting ready to move.
Captain Comer returns, we form up and move south towards the reported advance of the Yankees. Passing by the house at the crossroads, the ladies wave, we then pass the Federal prisoners where I and three others had been so rudely detained yesterday afternoon. Cavalry are prancing around and dashing up the road and firing is soon heard off to the west, not far from the sound of it. We fall in and begin to march out up another steep wagon road. Cavalry races by. We are again halted and take to the side of the road. What is happening we hear the firing but yet we wait? One of Wheeler’s boys gallops up to our major and orders him to get some militia over to help his men hold back the Yankees, the major detours our captain to go with the cavalry. The mounted rider swears at us and orders us at the double quick up this long uphill trail all the while cursing us for cowards, the men are contemplating shooting him, who would know? Some fall out struggling up the long road, at the top we fall out in skirmish line in an open field moving towards another road at the end of it. The rest of the cavalry appears to be holding the line we are to take over but there is no enemy. What was all this rush and “we can’t hold” panic about? This cavalry trooper is but a corporal ordering our Captain about like some ‘darkie’ he owns, exclaiming to the captain they will be right behind us and “if any run we will shoot you down like dogs” As you can probably surmise we don’t take too kindly to this treatment but the captain maintains dignity. Comments are made as to the anatomy of the rear end of the horse in relation to its rider (A horse with two assholes) and we again wait on the line. Nothing in our front down this trail but some civilians. We are moved up along the road apiece where a house has been burned to the ground by Sherman’s bummers shortly before, but they are gone now, we halt and turn to march back the way we came.
Going down the hill we cheer the captain for his remarkable calm in the face of those idiots. We are heading back towards the crossroads when we are fired on from both sides of the road by the Yankees. While we were chasing our tails on the orders of the cavalry the enemy attacked up the main road. Many of them are armed with sixteen shot Spencer repeating rifles, free the prisoners and cut us off. We fight our way past this ambush suffering many casualties and head at a run up the road. Again we are attacked. We fight and hold on as long as we can. We are surrounded and Captain Comer orders us to surrender, we are taken prisoner. Just as fast as it is over the rest of the regiment that had fallen back while we were on the wild goose chase appears charging out of the woods, most of the company is freed and escapes, but some of us are cut off and held. We are searched and any food they find they take, along with any items that suit them. We are held for awhile till their commander allows that he doesn’t want to feed us so we are paroled. We make our way back to our command; the battle is over for us for the moment. We will meet them again.
From my perspective
Thanks Co 'D' 11th Gerogia Militia for me it was an Immersion Event
Company ‘D’ 11th Georgia militia Captain Michael Comer commanding, a company being made up of boys and old men , myself being 57 years of age ,assembles at a little crossroads town outside of Molena, Georgia near Macon. Other companies begin to drift in as the regiment begins to assemble. By 10pm the battalion is ready for a night march, feeling for the vanguard of the Federal advance. The route we are to take is a farm wagon road, rutted and rocky winding up hill and down, the going is tough in the dark, but we move at a rapid pace towards the enemy .After a march of several hours, we make camp along the side of the road we are traveling .I carry an oil cloth and one thin blanket tied over my shoulder, my shotgun, belt, canteen and an empty haversack as rations have not come up. We are ordered to get some sleep, sleep on our arms: accoutrements on. the night is clear and cool, I suspect about forty degrees. Rolling up in my blanket I gaze at the brilliant Milky Way wondering what lies ahead, I think of my home and of the poor wretches who are in the path of Uncle ‘Billy’s’ wolves. Then fatigued from the march I drop off.
The sound of men stirring and the low whispered orders of the sergeants awaken me before first light, I reckon it to be about 4am, it’s dark and cold, small fires started by the few who have meager rations twinkle about me. Water is located and canteen details head for the well. Someone comes around with a sack of goobers, goobers and water ,breakfast ..Better than nothing! Fires are put out, roll call, roll up my stuff and carefully place my clean dry socks in my blanket roll; I will save them for another day, and find my place in line. We march out towards the east, the sun still resting below the dark horizon.
The route of our march takes us into the woods along these country wagon roads, I think to myself that this part of the state is primarily used for growing rocks, nothing but steep hills and red earth and rocks. We pass a small house the only occupants are women all of their men either in the regular army or dead. Along the route there are others carrying all their belongings in carts and on their backs, fleeing Atlanta and the path of the Federals. They camp in the woods or try to find refuge with relatives.. Mostly women and young children. We are cheered and offered some fruit and other edibles but it is evident this is all the sustenance these poor people have. Somewhere I guess around 10am we stop. In the distance shots are heard, one platoon of the company advances in the woods along the roadside in skirmisher formation, the lieutenant leading a detail advances ahead. Shortly the word comes back the road ahead is clear, just a few houses and civilians. The march continues at the route step up another hill, all these hills go up into the woods is there any flat land here? Relaxing a little the men strike up conversation discussing the merits and faults of Governor Brown, Jeff Davis, the Confederacy along with problems keeping the darkies in the fields and getting crops in. most of us feel that ‘Old Jeff Davis’ has deserted Georgia and left us to fend for ourselves .We are ordered to halt and deploy as skirmishers. Word has it the Yankees are about , where, no one is sure, The major arrives with orders from the Lt Colonel for company ‘D’ to break to the right of the road and man the crest of the hill overlooking a narrow valley, the federal s are reported to be coming that way looking for water and forage. Again off in the distance several shots are heard but no sign of the enemy. Crouched behind a tree on the downhill slope I wait and watch, observing corporal Donovan head down into the valley and up along the adjacent hill , after awhile some stretch out, some nibble ‘goobers’ or smoke, the morning wears on in boring silence. Nothing. This would be an excellent position to bushwhack the Yanks should they come down this valley but no such luck. Several hours pass and it is decided that we abandon this position and move further along the road.
We form column and continue our trek thru the woods again, firing in the distance reminds us that we are here in defense of our homes. Again word is passed down that the Federals are nearby. We are ordered into line and up a steep hill probably a hundred yards to the summit, seems like straight up, pulling myself up by grabbing tree trunks I struggle to the top. We face left and fan out in a skirmish line from the base of the hill to the summit using tree trunks for cover we await the marauders. At the top of the hill running parallel to road below is another wagon road leading down to a crossroads of sorts where a few houses are located. We are deployed along the hill in sections, each section having watch for an hour then relieved by the next section. We wait in this position for hours; I almost drop to sleep in the warm afternoon sunlight several times. Relieved, we move twenty yards to the rear and catch some sleep, smoke or just wait around till we next go on the line. Hours pass. No sign of the federals, again random shots are heard but nothing comes of it. The colonel arrives back from conferring with the advance scouting patrol and orders the captains to form companies on the aforementioned road at the top of the hill.
I am at the rear of the company with the sergeant and corporal tramping up the road, alongside we pass the first house populated by five women, some young some older , several families I think. We tip our hats as we amble by and continue towards the crossroads. Captain Comer drops back and orders Sergeant Perkins to take the corporal and two volunteers back and search the house we recently passed. We are told that some of these women may be disloyal and might be passing along information to the enemy concerning our numbers. We are looking for contraband withheld from our hungry men, maps or any other sort of indication that these may not be loyal Georgians. Myself, being one of the ‘volunteers’, (an old army friend once told me never volunteers for nothing, how true these words would soon be.) Maybe we can get some food after all, if it is offered we will not refuse. At the cabin the women wonder what we are back for and it is explained we have been ordered to have a look around. The ladies protest that they are Georgians whom we are sworn to protect. They are told to wait outside while we look around, one of the women protests loudly, the corporal physically, but gently, has to restrain her. A couple of refugees pass by as all this is going on, Some chickens are discovered hidden in a covered coup one of the boys eyes them and suggests we borrow one, but the sergeant keeps all in good order, finding nothing we are about to leave when one of the ladies uncovers a ham and wheel of cheese, suggesting we take a slice each, we see this is all they have and accept a small piece of cheese and hurry back to the column. As we form detail and march away the protester derides us for invading their home, Sergeant Perkins allows how we were ordered and did what we were told ,and how’s they would be thinking differently about us,if those blue wolves come through.
Our detail continues up the road till we reach the crossroads where we expect to reunite with the company. There is some commotion here. The company is nowhere to be found except for a few stragglers who inform us that the company went up into the hills to our left. In the woods to my right I see some fifteen to twenty Yankee prisoners guarded by home guard and some cavalry milling about. There is a cabin at the intersection where some of the women refugees from Atlanta I suppose, have set up house. They offer us some pickles which are gladly accepted. I spy a well and we all head over to fill our empty canteens. Along the way back I enter into conversation with two of the prisoners who relate to me that they were cut off and surrounded by cavalry and captured. This accounts for the firing we had heard earlier during the day. Corporal Donovan sidles up to an unguarded table where a few sacks of salt pork wait for distribution, he nicks a piece as do I and head over to the stragglers from our company to find which direction the boys went. Suddenly, I her a voice behind me order me to place my shotgun on the ground and put my hands up, first thought this to be a prank, turning around Major Hicks who is pointing his revolver at me reiterates the order, the four of us are surrounded and we lay down our weapons. I am in a quandary as to what is taking place..Remember when I mentioned earlier my recollection of being told never volunteer? Well here is one good reason why!!!
We are placed under arrest as shotguns are leveled at us. Sergeant Perkins demands an explanation. Major Hicks states that two civilians witnessed our raid on the helpless women of Georgia back at the cabin that we were foragers worse than the Yankees preying on the people we are here to defend. The sergeant protests loudly that we did no such thing, we were ordered by our captain to go back and search for contraband and see if the reports of disloyalty may be true. The Major counters that we were observed stealing their food and possessions. We are placed under guard and I’m now sitting in the pen alongside the federal prisoners I was just conversing with. We are being detained till a courts martial can be held. Protesting all the while, Sergeant Perkins demands we be kept in a better place than with this Yankee vermin; he demands that our captain be notified so he can verify our story. We are told to shut up and sit down, all this will be attended to. Now here we are facing death at the hands of our own men, what thanks we get for risking all for these people .An hour goes by, the captain arrives and is engaged in discussion with major Hicks over in the crossroads. Captain Comer departs as the major steps towards us , we are released, we are needed sorely on the line, this matter will be have to wait, we are allowed our weapons back and head off towards the rest of our company.
Another walk up another hill brings us to our men; the captain welcomes us back and questions the sergeant as to what transpired. I find my place on the line overlooking the same valley a little further south of our first position. Again we wait. As daylight fades we are relieved by another company and March off back towards the crossroads, where we halt, receive orders where to make camp for the night, we, thankfully, are not on guard duty tonight. All the other companies are now in the same vicinity. After a short march we fan out on this desolate defoliated hill, fires are started blankets tossed on the ground marking each mans place for the night. Rations still have not come up; I have only a handful of goobers and some water. One of my comrades offers me a piece of hardtack and some jerky a feast in light of the food situation. I’m happy to have this in fact I save half the hardtack cracker for breakfast, this will be most likely all I’ll get. The day has been warm and clear, the weather good, as the sun sinks, the air begins to chill, going to be cool tonight. I decide to treat myself to that clean pair of socks; such small things in normal life are as great comforts out here. Removing my shoes which have not been off for days I rub my sore feet and slide them into the socks, now to see about keeping warm, I’ll leave my frock coat on and wrap my blanket around me like a cocoon. The night is cool and clear, the night sky is beautiful, and the stars shine bright, in the distance random shots remind us that the War is still here. We have not encountered the enemy except those few prisoners, but they are out there in force. Perhaps with tomorrow will come our real test?
The day dawns bright and clear, the Captain allows the men to sleep till seven; I’ve been awake sometime now as the dew and the cold have penetrated my blanket. I roll up my blanket and cloth and walk over to the fire. Warming myself, I listen to the rumors and stories of the approach of the Yankees, some homes just east of here were torched and the occupants, women and children, thrown out into the night, their food confiscated. Joe Wheelers Cavalry is dashing about, these boys despise us militia and never miss a chance to make that known. They are an arrogant bunch, but as with us the only organized force left to oppose Sherman. Breakfast consists of some water and that other half of hardtack cracker I saved, a comrade somehow has made a cup of coffee and offers me a swallow, been a long time since I had a taste of coffee. Officers are called to a meeting down the road apiece, so we best be getting ready to move.
Captain Comer returns, we form up and move south towards the reported advance of the Yankees. Passing by the house at the crossroads, the ladies wave, we then pass the Federal prisoners where I and three others had been so rudely detained yesterday afternoon. Cavalry are prancing around and dashing up the road and firing is soon heard off to the west, not far from the sound of it. We fall in and begin to march out up another steep wagon road. Cavalry races by. We are again halted and take to the side of the road. What is happening we hear the firing but yet we wait? One of Wheeler’s boys gallops up to our major and orders him to get some militia over to help his men hold back the Yankees, the major detours our captain to go with the cavalry. The mounted rider swears at us and orders us at the double quick up this long uphill trail all the while cursing us for cowards, the men are contemplating shooting him, who would know? Some fall out struggling up the long road, at the top we fall out in skirmish line in an open field moving towards another road at the end of it. The rest of the cavalry appears to be holding the line we are to take over but there is no enemy. What was all this rush and “we can’t hold” panic about? This cavalry trooper is but a corporal ordering our Captain about like some ‘darkie’ he owns, exclaiming to the captain they will be right behind us and “if any run we will shoot you down like dogs” As you can probably surmise we don’t take too kindly to this treatment but the captain maintains dignity. Comments are made as to the anatomy of the rear end of the horse in relation to its rider (A horse with two assholes) and we again wait on the line. Nothing in our front down this trail but some civilians. We are moved up along the road apiece where a house has been burned to the ground by Sherman’s bummers shortly before, but they are gone now, we halt and turn to march back the way we came.
Going down the hill we cheer the captain for his remarkable calm in the face of those idiots. We are heading back towards the crossroads when we are fired on from both sides of the road by the Yankees. While we were chasing our tails on the orders of the cavalry the enemy attacked up the main road. Many of them are armed with sixteen shot Spencer repeating rifles, free the prisoners and cut us off. We fight our way past this ambush suffering many casualties and head at a run up the road. Again we are attacked. We fight and hold on as long as we can. We are surrounded and Captain Comer orders us to surrender, we are taken prisoner. Just as fast as it is over the rest of the regiment that had fallen back while we were on the wild goose chase appears charging out of the woods, most of the company is freed and escapes, but some of us are cut off and held. We are searched and any food they find they take, along with any items that suit them. We are held for awhile till their commander allows that he doesn’t want to feed us so we are paroled. We make our way back to our command; the battle is over for us for the moment. We will meet them again.
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