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The Regular The Official Newsletter of Sykes Regulars September Regular |
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| Brigade Schedule | Bugle Call | Reports from the Field 3rd Winchester Another Slant | From the Desk of the First Sergeant |
A Jonah on Vacation | Important Election Info. |
Field Commander’s Report D.M. Rivera First Sgt. Steve Hanson
Well, my modern telegraph is finally connected to the outside world. After 28 days in non-communication,
I am finally ready to confront the world. My new e-mail address is: FourthUS@erols.com.
Since we last “spoke”, we have been active in the field. In July, we have provided the 20th Century tourist
community with our fine rendition of Meade’s Head Quarters Staff. Several weeks ago we attended the
APCWS event at 3rd Winchester, where we fought beautifully under the stalwart leadership of Major
(General) W. Hutchison. On Saturday, we spent much of the day in skirmish line engaging the enemy.
When not so formed, we fought as street fighters as we advanced (and retreated) through the winding
tree-lined roads. While some members of the Federal forces remained in the field with the Major
(General), our company reformed at our base camp some distance away for R & R (Real beeR).
Additionally, our good cook, Cpl J Wassel, provided another epicurean delight for Saturday’s evening
meal. War is hell, but someone must experience it.
Sunday morning found your field commander up early and away to his “wagon” in order to position it in
the city of Winchester for our triumphant return after escorting the rebel prisoners to the city courthouse.
The march of approximately 4 ½ miles into Winchester was uneventful as the docile prisoners remained
quiet.
It was good to see old pre-war friends such as Sgt Dave Kinscherf. He, and other friends, are always
welcome at our campfire. We look forward, now, to the Antietam weekend, and then Cedar Creek. The
season is going quickly, and we hope to see everyone at Cedar Creek for the 135th anniversary of the battle.
Field Commander, Sykes’ Regulars
October 1999
Scheduled as: Primary Brigade Event
Date: October 16-18, 1999
Place: Middletown, VA
Event: Cedar Creek (NR)
Info: This year is the 135th anniversary of Cedar Creek and it’s going to be a big one. It’s an NR event so
we need all Regulars to try and make this one because if you’ve ever been to Cedar Creek before you know
what an excellent battle it can be. It’s a mass maelstrom of battle. So don’t miss it.
Uniform: Full field kit. Late war sack coats, kersey trousers, clean weapons, leathers, full canteen, forage
caps, and dog tents.
Directions: Route 81 to Middletown. Make left and watch for signs for Belle Grove Mansion.
Report from the Field
The Blair Witch Tactical
A Regular arrived in the woods in the dead of night with nothing but a full moon to guide his way. He
straggled in, passing ghostly figures of the NR bathed in candlelight, calling out in high pitched screams
“REGULARS!!!’ FOR GOD’S SAKE, WHERE ARE YOUUUUU!!!!!” He was scared until finally, a
distant feeble response gave him hope. “SYKES’ REGULAARS!!!!” he cried again. He saw a pinpoint of
light where he thought the response came from. He moved in that direction. For the longest time he
trekked. It seemed like miles and the point of light always seemed to move farther and farther away.
Branches and brambles tore at his clothes. He just wanted to stop and cry but he couldn’t because he was a
Regular and Regulars don’t cry!!!! EVER!!!!! (Except when the beer goes dry)
When he finally reached the campsite he grabbed the first Regular he saw and put him in a headlock and
screamed, “WHO PICKED THIS GODFORSAKEN BIVOUAC!!!!!” (See alternate version of this scary
night reported by another very frightened soldier)
The hardiest of the lads gathered together for the 3rd Winchester event that was to be a tactical on
Saturday and a march for preservation on Sunday. It was a tough event and all those that made it through
deserve a clap on the back. We helped raise money for the APCWS and the preservation of the 3rd
Winchester battlefield. It was an event that we can be proud to have participated in. We were also proud we
survived the physical taxation. The weather was hot and the march was long but the breeze sustained us
and we persevered.
The lads bivouacked in some dense woods and without the usual luxury of hay reposed on the hard, hard
ground. Some set up tents, others slept beneath the moonbeams from an extremely full moon. The light
from a single candle illuminated the nights conversation till the sand man pistol whipped us all into a deep
slumber. The mosquitoes dined on any exposed epidermis that night thus small fractions of Regulars could
be seen protruding from woolen cocoons. The night passed.
The morning brought reveille which for some reason we all just ignored an we kept on snoozing. We paid
for our misdemeanor by not having enough time to make breakfast and we dined on coffee and bacon. We
hustled out to dress parade where we came under the perusal of our commanding officer of the weekend our
very own Major Hutchison. For anyone who thought this was a benefit, they soon found out that the Major
has a sadistic sense of duty in terms of physical soldiering. In other words we were in for some hustling in
heavy marching order. We all repaired back to camp and put it on. Captain Rivera and 1st Sgt. Mastapeter
were at the helm of the company which consisted of several units united into one large company. We fell
back into line and awaited orders.
Then we were off.
Most of the day we fought in skirmish line. We were up against about the same number of Rebs and we
fought on all kinds of terrain. And we fought hard.
We took the initiative and chased the Rebs over hill and dale until we got them over a bridge that traversed
a boggy stream. As we waited there positioned on the high ground in the woods above the bridge, the Rebs
thought they might seize the initiative. Why they chose to reenact the Burnside bridge action is beyond me.
They rushed the bridge and we mowed them down. There was nothing left but a pile of butternut.
Once they retreated, we of course had no choice but again, to give chase. We hauled ass over that bridge
and formed a beachhead but the Rebs had melted into the woods. The Major reformed his brigade and off
we went again.
We finally came out into the fields after skirmishing with pockets of the enemy. We all needed water and
the buffalo came into site. The brigade stopped and filled up. We were sucking water down as fast as we
were sweating it out. By the end of the day we had consumed at least 3 to 4 quarts of water and it still
wasn’t enough.
After taking a break we found ourselves on a lane between two rows of trees. The road was large enough
to support a company front. The brigade was ordered into action using a street fighting maneuver usually
reserved for urban combat. Each rank would fire and break to the rear and load and move up to the firing
line in succession thus keeping a constant fire on the enemy. Other than a large briar bush that kept
snagging men the maneuver worked perfectly.
After pursuing the Rebs for a few more furlongs we finally found a little plot of land in the woods where
the boys stripped out of their gear (really fast) and dropped to the ground. Some ate some rations and then
most if not all fell unconscious from the sheer exertion. When this reporter awoke, it looked as if all the
Yanks had been shot. No one moved. Except for the absence of blood it was a complete massacre. The Rebs
beat us by running in front of us and making us use up our ammunition. It was brilliant strategy. The last
leg of the battle was us shooting caps at the Rebs and then throwing very small rocks at them as hard as we
could. They surrendered.
The Regulars decided to hump it back to the original camp while the rest of the brigade stayed at the site
where they napped earlier.
Cpl. Wassel got busy in the company mess and whipped up some beef stroganoff. The lads ate well and
were grateful for the tasty repast. As soon as the meal concluded the lads found there bunks and were out
like lights. The mosquitoes were merciless but we were too tired to care.
During the day Jason McConnell had tickets to Riverdance and went off to see the show and returned that
night. In the middle of the night he stumbled into camp and in a real Blair Witch moment, this reporter
jumped up and was ready to throttle the intruder in the moonlight. For future reference DON’T EVER DO
THAT AGAIN!
The next morning we were only allowed to eat bacon. We tried to hard boil 4 dozen eggs the night before
but we failed. So we had coffee and bacon and shuffled off to march docile Confederate prisoners into the
town of Winchester. They were to catch the train that would take them to the prisoner of war camp in
Elmira, New York. It was a good 4 and a half mile hike, but compared to the work out of the day before it
was a cake walk. Everyone behaved and we drew a few curious looks and a few “Yankees go home!”
We were there to do a job, and in the end we helped raise money for battlefield preservation. Then we went
to a gourmet coffee shop and ate some bran muffins aspiring to always be Regular. And there you have it.
Another Slant
The Regular Witch Project
by Eric Schlegel
(Any similarity to The Blair Witch Project is purely coincidental)
During the 3rd Winchester event the Regulars were camped in a wood that was reported to be
haunted by a pair of ghosts named Mooney and Flexi. I discounted these rumors at first, but the
campsite did have an eerie feel about it and there were several odd occurrences during the
weekend.
I arrived at the 3rd Winchester site around 7AM on Sat and began searching for the Regulars
campsite. Upon entering the woods I encountered a figure that appeared to be Major Will
Hutchison, but could’ve actually been the Flexi ghost, since his tongue and lip were pierced. He
pointed in a Northerly direction and said that the Regulars were camped about 50 yards away.
After wandering for what seemed like hours I came across Captain Brennan, who was also
searching for the Regulars. Fortunately, we located Captain LeVasser, who seemed less
disoriented than us and was able guide us directly to the Regular’s camp, which turned out to be
within shouting distance of the edge of the woods.
After greeting my mates and ascertaining that I hadn’t missed breakfast, I headed back to the
wagons to collect my gear. Since I could see that we were very close to a field and the road I’d
followed on the way in, I took a direct route out of the woods and, upon exiting, marked the spot
by breaking a branch on a nearby bush.
I gathered my gear and easily returned to the spot where I’d departed the woods. I entered the
woods, figuring on an easy 2 minute hike back to camp, but couldn’t see it. Even so, I had a
general idea of the direction and, besides, it was only 50 yards away. After wandering around for
several hours and passing the same stack of rocks 3 or 4 times, I decided to reverse my direction
and see if I could locate the camp by trying to find the pile of rocks. (It worked for Winnie the
Pooh, but that’s another story.)
After another couple of hours of wandering, I came across a white frame house. It appeared
deserted, but when I heard some rustling inside, I decided to go inside and see if anyone was
there who could help me out. It was empty of furniture and in some disrepair, but when I turned
to leave I heard what sounded like someone calling my name from the direction of the basement.
When I went down to investigate, I saw 2 familiar figures who appeared to be playing cards. I
asked for directions to the Regulars camp, but all they did was motion for me to sit in the corner
and join their game. I panicked at this point and stabbed the one that looked vaguely like Flexi in
the eyebrow with my bayonet, but all he did was smile and slip a metal hoop into the hole. I fled
the basement and ran blindly into the woods. In just a few minutes I stumbled into the Regular’s
camp where Corporal Wassel was just finishing cooking the breakfast bacon.
Most of the rest of the morning was filled with dress parade and company and battalion drill.
Afterwards, I was sent on a water detail to fill the company’s canteens. To make sure I didn’t
become lost again, Captain Rivera drew me a map and sent Private Bill Ford along to assist me.
Again, I navigated out of the woods without problem, but upon returning to the exit point with our
load and entering the woods, we immediately became disoriented again. I was able to locate
landmarks and find our position on the map, but we never seemed to get closer to camp.
After what seemed like hours we came across a stream we hadn’t seen before. I nimbly crossed
over, but Bill slipped and got his feet wet. This caused his frustration to boil over and he went
berserk, grabbing the map, crumpling it up and throwing it in the creek. I didn’t really care, since
it didn’t seem to be helping much.
We were getting pretty hot and tired by this time and had consumed most of the water we’d been
sent to fetch. We considered abandoning the nearly empty canteens, but decided to carry on,
since our fellow Regulars would probably be grateful for whatever water we brought, if we ever
made it back to camp.
It appeared to be getting dark and we decided to hustle up a bit. After an hour or so of double
timing through the woods, we crested a small rise and there was the Regular’s bivouac, just as if
we’d only left it a few minutes before. The guys were suiting up to head out to battle and
wondering what had taken us so long. We passed out the canteens and no one seemed to notice
they were only half full.
The battle turned out to be a hot one. The Rebs kept falling back and we chased them over hill,
over dale, across streams and through fields. I was overcome by the heat and returned to camp
early. After making a surprisingly easy water run, I laid down on my bedroll for a nap. Just as I
was dozing off, I heard footsteps approaching. I opened my eyes and turned just in time to see a
huge groundhog with the face of Patrick Mooney staring at me. The creature let out a high
pitched scream and turned tail down the hill and was gone. I rubbed my eyes and said, “Now that
was really weird.”
The rest of the afternoon passed without incident as all the Regulars pitched in to help Corporal
Jim “Cookie” Wassel whip up a pot of a most excellent Beef Stroganoff. After the meal was
consumed, the troops began to settle in with some liquid refreshment and the camp became very
quiet as one by one the Regulars drifted off to sleep.
About midnight I was awaken by footsteps approaching camp and turned to see a shadowy figure
coming our way. Jim Wassel was apparently startled by noise as he sat bolt upright in his bedroll.
He appeared ready to take off into the woods, but then the figure spoke. It turned out to be a false
alarm, as it was only Corporal Jason McConnell wandering back into camp after a returning from
a druid cult meeting called Riverdance. He was dressed in a long white gown and was wearing a
wig with long braids and branches sticking out of his hair. It’s also possible I dreamed this part. I’m
not sure if Jason encountered the Regular ghosts, but if he did he probably scared them more in
that get up. He did report having wandered in the woods for hours looking for camp. I think we
need a class in forest navigation.
That was the end of the supposedly supernatural occurrences at 3rd Winchester. In the morning,
we had another quick bacon breakfast and formed up to march our Rebel prisoners into the town
of Winchester. This brought the weekend’s events to a close, but left me wondering when will be
the next time we run into the Mooney and Flexi ghosts again. These transcendental apparitions
are fine but you can’t shake their hands and eat the stuff in their haversacks.
Bugle Call
Loss of a Best Friend
Brooklyn Dave Kinscherf would like to pass on the sad news that his constant companion and
canine friend has passed away. Sheba is now in service in Valhalla where all good war dogs go.
Our condolences go to Dave and as with all good friends, Sheba will be missed.
Shirts
Don’t forget to place your shirt orders. In the future we will also be offering sweat shirts with the
same logo for the cold winter encampments.
Remembrance Day Reservations
Link here for reservations at the Day’s Inn in Gettysburg. This is for the Rememebrance Day
weekend. Please send it in as soon as you can to save your room. We have a block of ten rooms that will
also be shared with another unit so send them in soon.
A Jonah on Vacation
While in Maine on a leave from the Company, Pvt Spahr and his lovely wife and youngest son, also a
bugler in the company, decided to take in some of the local sight of the still rural Downeast Coast of Maine.
Taken in by the beauty of the area, he managed to run a Washington County Sheriff (Constable) off the
road. Pvt. Spahr’s carriage nearly caused the Constable to upset his carriage while trying to avoid a
collision. This normally easy Mainer was quite agitated by Pvt. Spahr’s carelessness and even questioned
his sobriety- in mid-afternoon! Pvt. Spahr was quite sure he hadn’t been drinking, but offered to let the
Constable smell his breath. Fortunately, this local was quite understanding of a Yankee from Virginia and
allowed the good Private and his passengers to continue on their way unmolested.
This goes to show you. The Jonah may strike any time, any place or anywhere so always beware!
I Remember ...
You might think that our present Jonah is unique. However, some of you older members might remember
this fellow; it was while we were in California, back in '53, if I remember correctly. I was in the middle of
my fourth enlistment and was 3rd Sergeant of the company. When we first arrived in California in '49, we
moved south from San Francisco along the old Camino Real to Monterey and stayed at the old Spanish
presidio there for a few days. With the influx of the Army and the gold prospectors into the area, many new
building were being built at the Presidio.
While we were waiting to move inland from there, the men had some time to relax. The most popular game
in the company at that time was called Hide-and-Go-Seek, where one man would blindfold himself and
everyone else would hide. Then the man who had been blindfolded would attempt to find everyone.
Well, at that time, we had a young blonde Swede in our company, by the name of Sten Olafssen, who puts
our present Jonah to shame. He couldn't do anything right. If something needed to e dry, he would find a
way to get it wet; if it needed to be hanging from a tree, he would find a way to get it buried in the ground;
if it needed to be full, he would find a way to empty it. We often joked that the reason his hair was blonde
was because it needed to be brown. Even after mustering all his energy, and after careful thought and
planning, and after much extra effort, with his eyes squinted, his brow deeply furrowed, and his tongue
protruding from the corner of his mouth, the things he did manage to accomplish elicited from anyone
seeing them the exclamation, "What dunderhead did that?" Then, someone else would have to do it over
again correctly. He was considered a brave enough soldier, but maybe that was because, while
concentrating on whatever he was doing, it was difficult for him to also understand that we might be in
danger.
This one day, the game had progressed to the point where everyone was hidden when it was interrupted by
the sounding of Assembly. When the company was formed we were told to prepare ourselves to march
within the hour. At the appointed time, a roll call discovered that Olafssen was missing and no one knew
where he was. At the time, no one thought that unusual because he often missed assemblies and showed up
later as if nothing had happened. We always knew he would, so we didn't think much of it. We marched
out of there and didn't hear from Olafssen again. Eventually he had to be listed as having deserted, but I
always had my doubts. I knew that, somewhere, somehow we would eventually find him again.
About four years later, we received orders to return to the States. We retraced our steps back to Monterey
and, while we were there, as luck would have it, there was a slight earthquake. The only damage it caused
was the collapse of a wall of one of the Presidio buildings. Well, inside the wall was found a skeleton, along
with some uniform buttons, a shock of bright
blonde hair, a pocketful of personal items, and an ID planchet identifying the unknown soldier as our own
private Olafssen. We had made him wear the planchet so that whenever he got lost the finder knew where
to send him. Apparently he had hidden in the partially constructed wall during our last game of
Hide-and-Go-Seek. He was concentrating so hard on hiding that he missed the assembly and our march
out; and, having never been "found," he simply continued hiding. The next day, the workmen returned and
finished the wall, and he was not discovered until the earthquake revealed him to us.
Even with all of his faults and all the trouble he unwittingly created for the rest of the company, he is
fondly remembered as the best Hide-and-Go-Seek player in the history of the regiment, having remained
hidden and undetected for almost four years.
A Communique~ from the Vice President
Dear Members of Sykes' Regulars,
In my position as Vice President, it is my duty to inform the
membership that it is time to vote again. This is the single most important function of each of the members of Sykes' Regulars - more important even than attendance at events. The leadership is the heart of the unit and its membership is the blood. Neither can function properly without the other, and both, working together smoothly, are vital to survival. Your vote decides the unit's quality, direction, and operations. The conduct of the leaders throughout the year is based on the knowledge that they lead only by
the consent of the membership.
If you don't vote, you don't send the correct signals to the
leadership. No matter who wins, the outcome of the voting is a message to the winner. Just as a landslide victory indicates an overwhelming approval, a near victory indicates that the candidate might need to take stock. In
this way, negative votes are every bit as powerful as positive votes. Even if you are satisfied with the status quo, a vote saying so is a message to the leadership that they are doing a good job. By not voting, you are saying
nothing at all.
The positions are presently being held by the following individuals:
President: Jim Wassel
Vice President: Steve Hanson
Secretary: Will Hutchison
Treasurer: Jim Nickle
Field Commander: Don Rivera
I am now accepting nominations for each of the five positions. Persons nominated must be paid up, voting members of Sykes' Regulars, and they must be willing to accept the nomination and run for office. A person may be
nominated for more than one position, but, before the election proper, he must choose, from the positions for which he is nominated, the position for which he wishes to run. Any individual may nominate himself for a position
if he wishes. Nominations will be open until the end of the Cedar Creek weekend, October 15-17.
In the October issue of the Regular, due to publish between the 20th and 25th of October, will be a ballot listing the positions and persons nominated for each one. The voting will be open until the end of the Remembrance Day weekend, November 20-21. According to the By-Laws, only
paid-up members of Sykes' may vote, so your ballot must include your name for verification of eligibility. However, the ballots are kept confidential and are destroyed after the outcome has been decided. Ballots will be collected by me and given to a disinterested third party to verify the count.
The winner for each position will be announced in the November issue of the Regular.
Contact me with your nominations at any of the following
addresses/numbers. If you know that your nominee is willing to run, please let me know. If not, I will notify each nominee to see if he is willing to run. Your name may be kept confidential if you wish. If no nominations are
received for a position, and the person in that position wishes to remain, his nomination is automatic for that position.
Steve Hanson:
740 Hollow Rd., Oella, MD 21043
(H) 410-461-9493; (W) 410-691-6487
hansons@cadmus.com
Thank you all for your cooperation.
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