AAR Bummers

[bhutton]

Re: AAR Bummers

Guy,

I was only telling it from my perspective as a militia private , no disrespect intended I was told by others that a corporal was ordering us around, this was all meant to be a first person, account, I thought you were great in your portrayal and enjoyed it every minuite of it. No offense was intended

[Curt Schmidt]

Re: AAR Bummers

Hallo!

Moderator hat on...

There is no reality, only perception.

And our experience often dictates our perception. As with the Parable of the Blind Man and the Elephant, the perceptions being expressed here vary depending upon one's perception and what part of the beast one happened to experience.

This thread is starting to generate complaints/reports.

We will leave it open for the time being, but cracks and divides along "them and us" lines are starting to widen due to repetition, failed expectations and performance- and "pro's and con's" may have already been well hashed if not composted.

Curt

[Eric Tipton]

Re: AAR Bummers

Now, Jim Butler (sorry Jim) told me specifically that in the afternoon of 14 November (approximately 3pm) an officer's meeting was held and the map finally presented to the assemblage for the first time. He asked where we were on the map and the reply was that no one knew. That is the definition of 'lost'.

Pete:

Quite frankly, that is not the truth. I knew precisely where we were on the map when we stopped at the fallen tree and told the officers this several times at the meeting. Some of them did not believe that we were in the correct valley to begin with (and still don't, apparently) which I knew we were. How else would we have found one of the baskets left out for forage in the four valleys on our trail? I knew precisely where we entered our route and how far up we went (the fallen tree) and had radioed Herb and Robby to let them know that we needed food and water at the "T", which Herb did. As I stated earlier, the 3rd Division never left the route that we had selected prior to the event.

[lambrew]

Re: AAR Bummers

I'm going to back Eric up on this. He told us that there was a "T" in the road and that we would find water there. When we set out to find said "T" we found not only the "T", but we found water, and from there we found food and civilians. Thus we were fed and watered, and by way of unforseen circumstances set up for one of the best experiences I've ever had as a reenactor. I was tired, hungry, thirsty, and cursing my luck at being in such a spot, then it hit me; this is what I signed on for, and that is what I got.

[North_State_Rambler]

Re: AAR Bummers

A Deserter's Tale, Part One



Over the weekend of November 13-15, 2009, at the Bummers event in Molena, Ga, my comrade Daniel Gray and I experimented with a historical scenario which has long held my interest, but which other event offerings have been unable to support. For the past eight years, I have been researching deserters from the eighteenth-century British Army and have often wondered what that experience might have been like. After seeing references to desertion from the Georgia Militia in Joe Brown’s Pets, I received the go-ahead from the event sponsors to pursue that impression. The result was a very interesting and educational weekend spent on the run from both sides.

Our event began near dusk on Friday, November 13th, when my party pulled into the parking lot at Camp Thunder after a lengthy passage from North Carolina. Sketchy directions from google maps had delayed us significantly in Griffin, GA, forcing us to stop at several gas stations and speak with a variety of local characters to finally find our way through. The number of blue coats in the parking lot simply dazzled me, and I quickly turned to Daniel and said “We’re wearing the wrong color this weekend.” As we made our way towards registration, I saw many friends, all in yankee attire, including a few with loaner gear for Daniel, who was attending his very first Civil War event. After shaking hands and speaking with everyone, we finally made it to the tables piled with paperwork, where we signed our releases and where Daniel picked up his new M1842. After taking our time getting kitted up, including make a few last minute repairs to kit and filling up our canteens, we caught a ride to the militia staging area, arriving a little after 8 pm.

After waiting several hours for the officers to return from their meeting, and convincing another friend in a different company to desert with us, the militia was finally formed up and ready to march down the road. After lighting the handful of “preservation torches” that had been purchased by southern troops, we headed off into the unknown. When we came to our first turn in the road, with the torches sputtering sufficiently to suggest they would soon give out, I pulled Daniel off to the side of the road with me, after telling our other file partner that I had to fix my shoe. The column swiftly passed us by and we tagged along soon after, for as long as we were within sight of the kabuki. The first of many lessons of the weekend for Daniel was the REALLY SLOW march. At one point, we thought we heard troops marching back towards us, so made a quick dash to the wood line on the left side of the road. About five feet in, we both hit a barbed wire fence that was invisible in the dark and put an immediate stop to our progress. After listening for long enough to establish the column wasn’t moving back towards us, we crept out and started slowly up the road again.

Our reason for sticking to the main thoroughfare was the plan we’d worked out with our third conspirator, who was supposed to drop out at some point and meet us on the track. I realized from the beginning that this strategy had a few problems with it, since the risk of meeting unsavory characters was far higher than if we’d taken off into the woods. With it being extremely dark, though, sticking to the road had a few additional benefits. The first of several threats soon appeared to our front in the form of Adjutant Brian Hicks, who had tarried behind the column intended to make sure we caught up. Two options immediately sprang to mind for dealing with this situation: we could shoot Mr. Hicks, who wasn’t expecting it, or let him know of our plan. Taking the latter course soon discharged that obstacle, so after waiting for Mr. Hicks to make his way forward, we continued on cautiously again.

A short while later, having seen no sign of the third man, I paused to blow a short blast on my whistle, since we had arranged with him to use whistle signals to locate each other in the dark. We heard what sounded like an answer up ahead and proceeded cautiously. As we neared what looked like a large water tank on the left side of the road, Daniel pointed out two shapes ahead, which immediately set me on my guard. They turned out to be two men from E Company, who supposedly were straggling with an intention to desert. After speaking with them for a while, we heard a whistle and the crunch of footsteps to our front. The E Company boys knelt down with their arms at the ready, telling Daniel and I to run back down the road in case it was a militia patrol. I quickly led Daniel into the woods behind the water tower, where we took cover. We listened as the two parties on the road joined and spoke for a while, then there was a quick whistle, which we ignored, and they moved off. I carefully counted out five minutes before taking us forward through the trees to a point where we could observe the road. Seeing nothing, I crept out to it to look carefully up and down while Daniel stayed in the trees to provide cover. Confirming that the road was empty, I headed back to Daniel’s position and quickly fell into a hole, getting a little banged up in the process. My comrade gave me a hand up and we then quickly discussed whether to bivouacked for the night or continue our hunt for our missing comrade. We concluded he must not have deserted and so went back into the pines, where we found a little depression in which to bed down. After spreading our ground cloths, laying out our blankets and positioning our gear, we enjoyed a pretty good night’s sleep. A warm breeze flowed over us for much of the evening, though things got chilly in the dead of night as usual.

We were up on Saturday morning at the crack of dawn, rolled up our gear and stepped out after getting rid of some ants that had crawled into our haversacks over night. All we had to eat was some low quality cornbread that had already turned to crumbs, a few hard crackers I brought along, and a handful of uncooked sweet potatoes that Daniel added to the mix. We struck off directly across the road, heading west, with the intention of meeting the ridge road and heading south to a location where we knew some civilian friends were waiting for us. Our first obstacle was a high ridge directly in our front, which we ascended at a leisurely pace. On the way up we scared the first of many deer we would see that weekend, and heard the militia down to our left. Upon completing our ascent, we found a trail to our front which we followed south for a while and saw a water point placed up on an intersecting trail. Out of fear of cavalry, I had led us down the slope where we could monitor the trail but still be far enough out to escape if hostiles approached. Seeing the watering point, I suspected we might be near a militia position, but crept up to it anyway. Looking up the intersecting road, I saw a fellow who looked like a militiaman, but with no accoutrements on, and quickly ducked back down the gulley. After a quick discussion, we agreed to more down to our right and then jump over the road, hopefully out of sight of the militia, which we quickly did, and continued over the rise to encounter a Bobcat tractor. After taking a rest and attempting to locate ourselves on our map, we headed up another rise parallel to the road on which the Bobcat was parked. Cresting this rise, I saw another water point, but also noticed a picket further up the trail. Since our canteens were getting a little dry, I opted to go down to the watering point to fill them, leaving Daniel with my musket and knapsack to provide cover. As I filled the canteens, a fellow with a Henry rifle came down from the picquet. I engaged him in conversation, telling him that we were a patrol detached from E Company. In a friendly fashion, he told me that he belonged to the “mountain rifle” which was set up at the cabin further up the road. I bluffed my way through the few minutes needed to fill up our canteens, gathering a few more items of information from the friendly lookout, including that the cavalry had just headed down the Bobcat road, and then quickly returned to Daniel. After throwing on my knapsack, we headed down the trail perpendicular to the former road.

Once we were well out of sight of the artillery picket, I again took us down the crest of the ridge along which the trail ran, in order to keep us out of trouble as much as possible. In so doing, we lost track of the trail, but continued heading west, hoping to hit the church. Instead, we ran across Camp Thunder’s firing range, and beyond that a modern road that seemed to be off our map. We headed down this road since it went vaguely south until we passed one of the houses I’d seen on our drive in the previous day. Across from this house was a dirt track leading back into the forest, with ATV tire marks on it. We followed this trail up a ways and took another break once we were well into the wood line. At this point, the minute hand decided to fall out of my pocket watch, so we only had a general notion of time from then on. The time at that point was a bit before 11 AM. We continued following this path until it gave out, and then continuing going east following a ridge. After a somewhat lengthier stop for a little rest, some water, and a few stories about Charles Heath, we once again struck out east and soon encountered another trail heading in the same direction. A little ways on, this trail struck the main north-south ridge road. After looking at the map, we couldn’t decide where we were (and figured the trail must not be marked on it), but decided to turn left and see what lay to the south.

[Michael Comer]

Re: AAR Bummers

Guy,

I replied to your PM. Your first person was excellent and you did get us militia boys riled up. All that ruckus on Sunday morning was the highlight of the whole event for me.

[Benedict]

Re: AAR Bummers

On popular demand, my AAR in English.

----

Finally we are marching off! After having spent weeks in the trenches outside Atlanta and finally capturing the city, the days were filled with idleness. But finally Uncle Billy sent us eastward to make life harder for the damned traitors and lighten their food stocks. While some regiments sent foraging parties the size of a company, the commander of our 103rd Illinois thought that Sergeant Brumagin and three private would suffice to haul enough food for the whole regiment. We attached ourselves to the command of Lt. Craddock, 97th Indiana, in order to be better off during an engagement.
In the evening, with torches lighting the way, the foraging parties of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd division marched out of the army and therefore away from the main column. Lit by the torches, we encountered a sight that threatened what was to come: a dead Federal soldier around whose neck the rebels had put a board that said "Death to all Bummers." Feeling queasy, we marched on. Then suddenly, musketry! They opened fire from the top of the ridge, but darkness prevented any aimed fire. We and the 97th were sent up the hill for a short distance to cover the right flank. Finally, the 1st Missouri relieved us and picketed the ridge from bottom to top. We could lay to rest.
A new day began, with guard duty from 4 to 6. Myself, my pard Nic, and a comrade from the 97th were detailed to cover the road. More and more, day dawned and and the range of vision grew. Finally it became clear that we were not to fear any attack via the road since it was flooded and resembled a branch of the river that rolled like thunder about 50 paces to our right. A sympathetic officer gave us some coffee to warm us up. Shortly after that the men that had rested behind us to the left and right of the street had awakened and were like a swarming beehive. It was decided that the 1st MO was to climb up the ridge parallel to the 97th and 103rd. We made our way up the ridge over hill and dale, but soon the Missourians were out of sight. The fatiguing climb continued nonetheless. To our luck we found a barrel full of water--while the night had been cold, the temperatures became summerlike during the morning and our canteens half empty. Shortly after we found an abandoned campfire, possibly kindled by Georgia militia which had spent the night on the ridge. Since we only had a small piece of bacon as a ration for our whole foraging party, pard Nic and I gobbled a half-burned corn cob. Lt. Craddock decided to send us reconnoitering the next ridge for possible paths. We found a couple of empty baskets and, at the bottom of the ridge, rebels. We decided to leave them alone. The 103rd and 97th then worked their way on top of the ridge. Then--the dreaded cavalry! But the mounted troops feared us more than we did them and retreated. The next moment the 12th Indiana joined us. They had tried to find a path next to the flooded road all morning, but had then decided to climb the ridge as well. All of us marched down the ridge, the rebel cavalry in sight, but not in the range of our weapons.
Around noon we rested and cooked a small meal from the morning's meager forage--corn, bacon, and sweet potatoes. The first and only pipe of the day was lit. In the meantime, a young woman arrived. Some of the 97th's men immediately sought her company--what men do if they have not seen a woman for weeks! But she was a typical Southerner, a tobacco smoking simpleton. But we men of the 103rd did not trust her. I therefore went up to her and said, in the tongue of my forefathers, "Wenn du uns in eine Falle lockst, werden wir dir die Kehle durchschneiden!"--"If you lead us into a trap, we will slit your throat!"--and went back to cooking as if nothing had happened. Of course she did not understand my Teutonic tongue, but the shock and suprise will have done the part. Our siesta was disturbed by another appearance of the cavalry, which we repulsed with angry shots. It was decided that the girl should lead us to the huts she had been talking about; these were allegedly abundant of foodstuffs and inhabited by only a few other females. With a strange feeling, but still hungry, we continued on our way, down a ridge and up another. There we found indeed the dwellings--and rebels, which we immediately repulsed. The women cornered anxiously in one of the huts while we pitched into the food. Pickles as big as fists out of big jars, freshly harvested apples, and, in one of the huts, an earthen jar full of honey which we drank like water. But you catch mice with cheese and Yankees with honey--blind with hunger we had stepped into a trap! A dozen mounted rebels suddenly appeared and shot at us with their revolving pistols and shotguns. Not even the 97th's Henry rifles could stop them! Sooner than later we were surrounded. I myself could escape. On the edge of the clearing the few escapees gathered and retreated into the forest. But we could not leave our pards alone! A first attempt at rescuing them was repulsed, and those with less guts ran away. Five of us waited and tried again. But our comrades had already been taken away, including all officers and NCOs, and we went straight away into the hands of the guerrillas. We were forced to put down our weapons. Immediately my thoughts circled around plans to escape, but it was not the time--yet. With ridicule and ungently, the rebels led us to a ridge which reminded me, due to its sparingness and the agony that awaited us, of Gologotha. There we met those of our comrades which had been captured earlier. Our mood was gloomy. We had left our weapons behind, and now the bushwhackers decided that we should return to get them, of course not without any vigils. Two cavalrymen and two militiamen were our guards. A few paces away from the huts we saw figures--a blue skirmish line! Hope was growing in our hearts. Shots were fired and our guards became insecure--and inattentive. Three comrades and I seized the moment and escaped! I had climbed ridges up and down all day, but how happy I was after this obstacle run when we could touch the blue uniforms of the 2nd Division that promised freedom! We escapees jubilantly embosomed each other. About a hundred bluebellies had arrived at the huts up to this moment, but despite our askings and entreaties to liberate those comrades still in captivity, the 2nd Division pitched into the provisions--they hadn't had anything to eat all day long. They prepared for the night. It seemed that our captured comrades had to wait. But at least the huts should burn for the treason of that woman who was talking to the other women as if nothing had happened! Therefore we lay fire to one hut while the women clamored. How the treasonous one cried about this deed--but she and her rebel friends deserved this fate, because if our comrades had to suffer captivity, then these Secesh women should suffer too. Pard Nic and I searched the surrounding and found, half-buried in a former fireplace, a bundle with cheese--that cheese helped us over the biggest hunger. Like vagrants, without a commanding officer and without orders, we strolled through the Federal camp. In order to prevent the night's cold from coming to our kidneys, we put a few wooden planks on the earth and spread our blankets on top. A few Iowan comrades had mercy with us and shared a formidable bean stew with the two of us. Then we lay down for a night's rest, our groundcloths on the planks, a blanket on top on which we lay, and a second blanket to cover us.
The next day, after some coffee, generously provided by the 1st MO, and a few sweet taters with foraged peach ketchup, we finished last evening's job and again lay fire on the hut because it had not burned down. How big was our satisfaction over the equalization, this revenge for our captured friends! The ranking officer then decided to retreat to the main column. Nic and I, the bummers that we were, alone and without any direct superior, kept searching the surrounding and strolled around the different foraging parties, which winded down the ridge like a snake. Those parties that stayed behind backed the retreat and repulsed the rebel cavalry. Farther away was musketry--hopefully our captured comrades were being liberated! Finally our prayers were heard, because when we had returned to the main column, we met Sergreant Brumagin and pard Dave and saw the men from the 97th and the 12th--they had indeed been liberated, and so their martyrdom was over. The 103rd's yield of this first foraging foray was meager--only a few sweet taters and the rest of the cheese. But surely there will be more the next time--this is only the beginning of our great march to finally end this damned war.

- Dutchie

[Jim of The SRR]

Re: AAR Bummers

Hank,

The officers were not given any maps. We were not given any objectives. At one point most of the foraging parties of 3rd Div did strike out on their own. The problem was we were out of water and had no clue what direction to go. Additionally, when we did strike off on our own, we ended up being faced with crossing multiple hills and rough terrain with no water and even then it would have been a guess. We sent out scouting patrols only to have them come back with nothing found. We were way out of the game, lost and only got out because Jordan showed up and led us out. Next time, all officers need to be given a map (from the start).

Jim Butler

Correction. We were not 'lost' we were off-schedule. Mr. Sorchy and our guide Mr. Tipton knew where we were, and the rest of us 'thought' we were 'lost'. Sorry for any confusion or gnashing of teeth.

Jim Butler

[Jim of The SRR]

Re: AAR Bummers

I'm going to back Eric up on this. He told us that there was a "T" in the road and that we would find water there. When we set out to find said "T" we found not only the "T", but we found water, and from there we found food and civilians. Thus we were fed and watered, and by way of unforseen circumstances set up for one of the best experiences I've ever had as a reenactor. I was tired, hungry, thirsty, and cursing my luck at being in such a spot, then it hit me; this is what I signed on for, and that is what I got.

Were you with 3rd Div? Are you saying you found civilians and food on Saturday? I know we saw civilians on Sunday.

Here is the problem in summary. We were off schedule as we had to bypass the flooded road. When we got off the river bluff, we should have began our ascent out of the vally and tried to get back on schedule to meet up with civilians. At first, we were looking for food in the ravines. When that seemed like a fruitless effort we began to look for a way out of the ravines (this means a way I could get all of my men out with limited water). I know that historically food was hidden in ravines, but we had little context to relate that to. Our foraging parties fanned out and blanketed the first hill we were told to search and nothing was found, so I think we all became skeptical. At the next ravine, one group did find a basket of food, but by that point, we were more concerned about getting to the next water point and up on the ridge.

I stick by my word that no one showed me on that map our exact location on the map. I do not believe that Mr. Tipton was lost, but at the same time, none of the officers knew where we were at (because if we did, we would have marched off on our own earlier, which we had done, to no avail. Eventually we would have found our way up to the ridge, but maybe not before nightfall.)

I don't want to continue belabouring the point. I know the SCAR foraging parties had a GREAT time and we are grateful too all the organizers effort in planning this event and getting us water on Saturday night. I also will NOT stand by and have my men called Nancy BOys for complaining about the timetable or whatever else. They have EARNED that perogative! And others may need to get thicker skin. We are not keyboard kampaigners. We are not hardkewls that sign up and then not show up. We don't bail out of an event at the first sign of problems. We soldier on as that is what we signed up to do. Some men are more able than others, but I am proud of every one of the SCAR men for what they accomplished. Our men had a great time because it was a soldiers experience and these experiences enhance our bonds of friendship and comraderie. If this event happens again, and we hope it does, we will be right there again to do it. We may make different decisions, but as others have stated, this is a learning experience as well.

Jim Butler

[GMM64]

Re: AAR Bummers

Mr Hutton
No offense here, I was having a fantastic time, I just wanted to make sure you fellas were not really offended by my actions,and we were all on the same page, other people had put a smidgen of doubt in my mind and I just wanted to be sure. Cause really I am such a nice fellow that being rough and rude to others is something that i have to work VERY hard at!! I am sure that you will find many folks who will attest to the truth of that statement !!! You boys did a great job and our time together was one of the highlights of what I consider to be a first rate event.
Guy M Musgrove
Critter Co/ Shannon's Scouts

[Lance Stifle]

Re: AAR Bummers

Hello all,
I 've been over the other side of the world (Australia) reading every post I can on this site and resolving to get over and attend some of your events ...preferably the more authentic kind like I'm reading over here.

To all of you who praise the background work and efforts that went into this event, good on you (another Aussie saying...considered high regard.), it reads just what it should have been.

For those of you who whinged about trivial inconvenience and a small slice of discomfort, well you shouldnt bother being there...toughen up.
"If you dont want to get wet, then stay away from the crik". (McKenzie, 1978).

Where I am there are people who would give their all, just to be able to get to such opportunities.
I'm 57 years old, a retired "gruntasauras" (Infantry, Airborne, then SF.) and I still want to play.

Geez people wake up to how truly lucky you are, and contribute all you can to making such an event the success this one obviously was.

Now, I'd like to book a mount (somethin "toey" with a bit of leg) for 2010, possibly mid 2111, Confederate of course, for the best part of your re-enacting season. I intend to pay for and have a Karl Pepper McClellan waiting for me over there.
My promise to be with you.

Whoeee, I's gonna ride with them secesh cavaliers!

All the best to you and yours.
Lance Stifle
(Kim Stewart)

[Jim of The SRR]

Re: AAR Bummers

Pete,
Yes from what I understand the blue gates were a point that we had to go through. All the land we were was designated for us to use. No the leaders were not given maps, but that will come out later with the event coordinators AAR. Were there mistakes made yes. Were decisions made spontaneously yes. Were all of them correct no. It was pretty much like what happened to units time and time again throughout the war. Our divisions area was about three miles. Past that we run into other divisions so it was not like Piney Woods where we were 15 miles away from a road. The objective we were at past the blue gates should have been reached if all went right and the river didnt rise by 10 in the morning. If all went right then we would have foraged in both valleys that we did then turned left like we did got to our water supply like we did,(thats where we camped saturday) then headed down the road, had interaction with the civilians that we did on sunday, fought the militia like we did sunday and hooked up with 1st and 2nd divisions at some cabins down the road saturday night. Since it took us 5 1/2 hours to march to our jump off saturday we had no chance of keeping our schedule. The things we did on sunday we were supposed to do saturday. The only things you didnt get to do was camp with the other divisions saturday night.
My apologies to all if you felt that I let you down. I think that with a recent hurricane that went through the event sponsors and all division commanders, foraging party leaders, and men did a fine job with what they had. Like I said I will leave the event sponsors fill in the blanks for the rest.
Terry Sorchy

Terry,

We are good. NO event can go exactly as planned. It isn't gonna happen. But, despite that, we had a GREAT time! We aren't mad at anyone and actually quite pleased with the what the organizers had accomplished. We were just expressing our 'perspective' and 'experiences'. Those things made for great first person as well. Our end of the hobby is too small to disagree over these petty things that no one could truly control. Let folks express what they experienced and we are all good.

Jim Butler

[Sarah Belle]

Re: AAR Bummers

a young woman arrived. Some of the 97th's men immediately sought her company--what men do if they have not seen a woman for weeks! But she was a typical Southerner, a tobacco smoking simpleton. But we men of the 103rd did not trust her. I therefore went up to her and said, in the tongue of my forefathers, "Wenn du uns in eine Falle lockst, werden wir dir die Kehle durchschneiden!"--"If you lead us into a trap, we will slit your throat!"--and went back to cooking as if nothing had happened.

I'm glad I didn't see you again! But really I didn't lead you into a trap on purpose! The Cav wasn't there when I left.

[Jim of The SRR]

Re: AAR Bummers

After marching all Saturday, and not encountering nary a soul to find forage, the men lay down to a night of sleep fit with twitches in their bellies. With best hopes of the day to come. Georgia brought us some nice weather to begin our trek on this fine Sabbath morning down the ridge road to complete our mission. Passing a fine wagon and some civilians who had nothing to plunder, we moved down the trail again towards a small, cracker, homestead. Being an officer of a foraging party is much like herding wildcats. The ravenous bummers of the 48th and 59th IN broke ranks into full dash and fell upon the cabin with great intent to sack it. It was like time had spun about and seemed as dreamlike as a whirlwind of activity stirred about me, which was unlike the military order we were used to within the battalion. The men tore into the cabin with great élan as their inhabitants were torn from their home. The men folk were gathered, patted down and put under guard. The ladies cried out to their Secesh gods as their possessions were emptied upon the thoroughfare.
To my right I spy some chickens as well as another private, we fire our pistols at them and one is soon destined for a cook pot. To my left the men find a ham and begin to tear into it like a pack of dogs. I then seek any newly turned ground in their yard for hiiden treasures. My plunder includes two jars of jam and ham. I drank coffee from the Southrons cups and ate beans from the traitors pots this fine day. In the distance I catch a glimpse of a large Secesh fella sitting under a tree and arguing with some of Uncle Billys Boys, but can not hear what they say. I spot one of the civilian men not sitting with the other men and I burst upon him with the full anger that has built upon me fueled also by my hunger of the previous day. I see this poor Secesh man as the cause of all my woes in this war. I draw my pistol and order him to sit back down as he was ordered or I will shoot him down. Then as I pass the other civilian men grouped near a tree I tell the Guard to keep them there, an old man calls to me, “Hey There!...Were you in Mexico?”. I am startled and the chaos about is unnoticed and I say to the man, “Yes, I was in Mexico, but I was a much younger lad then.” This poor Secesh man turned out to be Sgt Bruce who I served under in the War with Mexico many years ago. I told the guard to treat him well as he was once a US Hero, but was now led astray. He told me he was now a surgeon and supported neither side. Soon, we were on our way and wished to depart before the smoke and sounds would bring a patrol our way.

Lt. Jim Butler
48th IN

[ajroscoe]

Re: AAR Bummers

While I was upset with many things about the event Sunday when I posted, now that the event is behind us, that I have had a chance to talk to Eric Tipton over the phone, and now that I've been seeing some trends in this AAR, I wanted to say a few things.

First of all, to the organizers, there was one thing I didn't say earlier: THANK YOU. This was a huge event that must have been utterly difficult to put on. It took ambition to do try what you did, and even if things didn't work out, I know you will learn from what happened and make your next one better. I look forward to attending if I can. Eric, I greatly valued our conversation. I want to say again that you are a great person, and I look forward to really getting to meet you. Thank you for taking the time to talk to me and clearing up what happened.

Certainly there were safety concerns, as well as many mechanics on how this event could have gone better, they have already been well addressed. I know all those who attended also learned some lessons, both good and bad.

I think that not everyone appreciates that there were about 6 events going on at once at Bummers. No two groups had the same time, whether it be the 93rd IL, 1st MO Engineers, the cav, 30th OH, 48th IN, or any of the various militia companies, not to mention the various groups of civilians. We were all in different areas, with different terrain, with different distances, different experiences, and different views on the event. Unlike IPW, where the experiences of one company was roughly similar to another beyond a few minor divergences, no group can truly comprehend what another experienced and worked through, having not been there. I know my experiences differ greatly from the 3rd Division column after we got left behind on Saturday. That makes no group better or worse from another, merely different. To assume otherwise is hubris.

There were aspects whose historical accuracy were hazy or unsupported. As others have said, a balance had to be struck between the ideal and the realistic. We are not soldiers in the war and we all come to these events for different things and get different responses out of them. That's fine. I don't understand we some here are bashing other groups for their opinions. I seem to recall some sort of Constitutional Amendment giving us all the right to an opinion. I honestly don't think anyone who completed this event can be called a "farb," as some here have suggested. Even amongst the newest from all the parties, I saw men more concerned with being there for their comrades and helping each other on they I have ever seen before, even from those transitioning to our end of the hobby. I think once a man realizes the essence of the c/p/h is that we portray soldiers, and soldiers have an unshakable, unbreakable, unfathomable bond with each other, and they show it, then we can teach them all the methods and show them all the great gear in the world, because they alright get it. The man who helps his pard when he is tired and near the end of his strength is the man I want to be next to, at any event.

I had both the worst and best time of my reenacting career here. Being left on our own, still without food or water, at a very late point in the day was very angering and disheartening. Unlike some of the men in the other divisions who were already at their end point for the night (as the very heavy fire to the North suggested), we still had to push on for quite a ways to get to provisions. But, for all that, we heavily pillaged the countryside, feeding several of 2nd Division's forging parties when we entered their lines early Sunday morning. We added 20 rifles to the picket lines of the 116 IL at a time when they were just about to get hit and walked read guard for the last miles, with our heads held high as we reached the end. We bonded like I have never seen men bond before. I got to experience the confusion of war in a whole new way, as well as understand just how chilling the utter silence of your men is, once they've stopped complaining. I wouldn't trade this last weekend for anything, nor would I trade one of Billy Birney's oddball comments, nor the raw hard piece of pear that kept me alive Saturday night.

I know I am done with this tread, with the exception of the men who we are all waiting for. I know when Mess No. 1 and the Armory Guards are ready to write their thoughts, I will eagerly read it, but until then, it seems most everyone is rehashing the same thoughts and not focusing on giving feedback on the event. Thank you again gents for putting it on, and thank you EVERYONE who came.