vol12-1

Following in the footsteps of Delafield, Mordecai, and McClellan who traveled to the war zone in 1855. As many of you already know, between 1853 and 1856, after almost 40 years of peace in the region there was an extensive war going on in Europe and Asia Minor. Most of the fighting took place on the Crimean Peninsula on the North shore of the Black Sea. Initially, Russia and Turkey were the combatants, but by 1854 England and France had joined Turkey against Russia, and later Sardinia joined the “Allies”. Time does not permit me to delve into the many reasons for this war, but allow me to walk you through my recent trip to that area. After spending three fantastic days in England and flying to Athens, I boarded an excursion liner in Piraeus. We made our way to Canakkale, Turkey (a voyage of 245 nautical miles) where, after leaving the ship and gaggle of tourists, a Brit and I made our way East of town for about eight miles to what was in 1856 a British convalescent hospital. Generally unknown today, it was exciting to see the site and know that we were at an almost unknown historical place. The next day, we disembarked at Varna, Bulgaria (260nm from Canakkale) and visited the areas in which the French and British armies encamped while their leaders decided what to do.
Up to this point, we had very little interface with immigration in Greece or Turkey, and absolutely none in Bulgaria. However, this was to change when we docked in Odessa. After a trip of 244 nm, we arrived at 1300 hours to be immediately greeted by a loud band, an d a swarm of “immigration” officers. Setting up a table next to the ship’s starboard exit, they began to go through the ship’s manifest, and singled out one passenger of whom I will speak of in detail around the campfire. However, during the entire four days in Ukraine, we were “guarded” night and day by “immigration”. They were an exact copy of the types that I met in the Soviet Union years ago.
After spending one afternoon in Odessa, we weighed anchor for Sebastopol, and a voyage of 165 nm. Arriving at 0800 hours on 24 April, we disembarked for various historic places. As I was the only passenger carrying an American passport, I encountered a delay of ten minutes or more while the “immigration” officer totally checked my credentials about six times, and then checked a list of undesirables. Not finding my name listed, I was finally free to leave the ship. To my knowledge, other than the one Brit and me, no one else was detained long at the “table”.
While in Sebastopol, I visited a number of bastions, including the Makakov, and a simply wonderful museum. The Defense of Sebastopol Panoramic Museum 1854-1855 is circular in shape, approximately 150-200 feet in diameter, and upon entering one climbs a set of steps to a second level. This level is about one floor above the entrance, and is also circular and covers about a half of the total area inside the building. After one’s eyes become accustomed to the lighting, one notices a mural painted on the far wall, in a panoramic view. Between the mural and the level on which we stood was an area filled with objects that one would expect to find in a fortress that is being attacked. Cannon, shells, defensive positions, bunkers, muskets, fire pits, bodies, wagons, etc., were everywhere. What made this museum so memorable was the fact that one could not determine were the actual third dimension stopped and the painted scenes began. In one instance, an actual wagon is shown being pulled by a painted horse. The horse has just been hit by an exploding shell and is obviously in trouble. The scene is so realistic because one cannot determine where the painted horse begins and the wagon stops. Breathtaking is the only word to describe the entire panorama.
While in and around Sebastopol, I visited the Valley of Death, where the Light Brigade galloped to fame, and death. I stood where Lord Raglan stood when the charge happened; I visited the monument to the Heavy Brigade, who along with the Thin Red Line, were the real heroes of the battle; I visited Inkerman which was the scene of the bloodiest hand-to-hand until WWI; and, finally we arrived at Balaklava. The little seaport has changed, but the outline made so famous by Roger Fenton is still evident. That night we left Sebastopol and made a short voyage to Yalta.
On my last day in the Crimea, I joined a group of Brits and Ukrainians for a trip from Yalta to the River Alma, northwest of Sebastopol. It was at the Alma where the first land battle for Sebastopol occurred. I stood on the Russian left flank where they fought the French and where they faced the combined Allied fleet, and then I went down near the river and walked inland. After crossing the river, I walked to the British sector that was the left flank of the Allied army. I crossed the river in the area where the 23d Foot advanced toward the Great Redoubt. Up the slope I walked, all the while thinking of what had happened there years before. This area has not changed much in 147 years, and I almost saw the elephant. I knew that he was near.
We left Ukraine, after discharging our “immigration” officers and their table, and headed by sea to Istanbul, a voyage of 320 nm. Arriving at 1700 hours on 27 April, I did a little sightseeing before returning to the ship. The next day, my Brit friend and I took the ferry across the Hellispont and visited the British cemetery near what was then called Scutari. The hospital that Florence Nightingale founded still exists, but it is a Turkish military barracks now, so entry to that historic site was forbidden to me. Leaving hot and crowded Istanbul at 1700 hours on 28 April, we set course for Kusadasi, Turkey which we visited for a few hours before again weighing anchor for Piraeus, then to the Acropolis in Athens, a flight to Gatwick, an overnight stay in nearby Horley, and a flight home on May Day to Peggy who had been so very wonderful in encouraging me to go.
It was an incredible experience, and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I understand better now what happened there, and how difficult it must have been for the soldiers, officer and rank, of both armies. In all places, I was treated exceptionally well by the common people of Greece, Turkey, Bulgaria, and Ukraine. Only in Ukraine, sadly, was there an atmosphere of suspicion.

Date: : 26-27 May, 2001
Place: Gettysburg, PA
Event:Forgotten Regular
Info: This is our annual event to honor our forbearers, and to educate the public about the Regulars. Camp Friday night if you wish, but be ready on Saturday morning by 0900 hours. Again, we will set up camp near the Leister House, down from the Visitor Center. Special Saturday night story about the spy who didn’t.
Uniform:Dogtents, clean weapons, blackened leathers, canteens, sackcoats, kersey trousers, ponchos, clean brogans, polished brass..
Directions:Go to Gettysburg. If you don't know where it is by now, I just can't help you.

Date:2,3 June, 2001
Place: Winter Quarters at Larry McGranes and Antietam Battelfield
Event: Winter Quarters Workday
and Antietam Regulars Tour
Style: Modern dress
Info: Winter Quarters Work Day and Antietam Regulars Tour Info: This is a dual day weekend with Saturday as a work day at Winter Quarters and a Regulars’ Tour on Sunday. We will report to Larry’s place at 8:00AM with tools in hand. We will endeavor to put the finishing touches on the first hut which will entail building the chimney, chinking the logs and doing the last of the carpentry. We should have enough tools. Just bring work gloves and yourselves. Please try to make it because the more hands we have the more fun it will be. Sunday we will meet at the Visitor Center, Antietam Battlefield at 9:00AM and we will cover a variety of topics. If you are interested in presenting a report or just listening and learning a little more about the battle, please come out. Please contact me if you are doing a topic, Jwass@nni.com /610-515-0962. Thanks. I’ll send out an email with the topics that are already being covered. Equipment: Bring work gloves for Sat. and masonary tools if you have them. Uniform: none Directions:WQs at Larry’s. Take Route 340 South from route 15. Before Harpers Ferry take route 67 North Boonsboro. Travel approx 5 miles and look for Brownsville Rd make right. Go to T and make left, Boetlers Road. Continue till you see Brownsville pass on right. Take Brownsville Pass to the end. Larry’s is the second to last place on the lane. Go to Antietam.

For this years schedule check the calendar page.

Bugle Call

Congratulations
Hurrah!!! Another Regular is delivered safely to Earth. Mr. And Mrs. Andrew Feickert would like to announce the arrival of Mr. Connor Harry Wilkinson Feickert. Connor was born on 18 May at 3:49 PM at Fair Oaks Hospital. (He was born right in the Peninsula Campaign) Vital statistics: Weight: 9 pounds, 6 oz. Length: 22 inches. Well done Mrs. Feickert. We all know that childbirth is harder than anything we men ever do. Congratulations Andrew. We’re all waiting for our cigars.

Jonahs
Mr. Rush gets the Jonah this month for knocking down a stack of rifles at the McDowell event. Well done Sir. We won’t mention the guard duty snaffu.

Regulars Tour
This is a list of some of the topics that will be covered at the Regulars tour at Antietam, Sunday June 3rd.
Those that are in bold type have been taken. If you have something you’d like to do please feel free. Just let us know. Thanks.
1. Hooker's Advance focusing on Iron Brigade
2. Hood's Counterattack focusing on First Texas
3. Sedgwick's Attack on the West Woods with focus on Lee's precise moves vs Union blunders
4. Greene's attack on Dunker church focus should be on Greene who is little known but excellent Union commander.
5. French's attack on Sunken Road with focus on raw vs veteran troops, advantages/disadvantages of both.
6. Irish Brigade and rest of Second Corps breaking sunken road position with emphasis on lack of follow up by Union Command.
7 Battle of Shepherdstown

Crouching Yankee,
Hidden Rebel
or the Fight for Fredericksburg

The story of the film so far:
Media Magic, Inc. commenced production some months ago on a project to create a new and exciting documentary film program for the National Parks Service vistor’s center at the Fredericksburg National Historic site. Filming at the Ferry Farm near Fredericksburg commenced in November of 2000, see the November, 2000 Regular article. A pontoon bridge crossing scenario was filmed at that time, as well as several other battle episodes relating to the terrible encounter between North and South. For those of us unable to contribute time that weekend, all hope of participating in a great living history opportunity seemed to have been lost. That is, until the middle of April present. As it developed, filming of the scenes depicting the street fighting in the town that occurred after the Union crossing of the Rappahanock had not yet been completed. The pain of listening to other Sykes’ members swapping “you should have been there” stories of the pontoon bridge shoot would be too much to waste words on at this time. News of the need for the additional services of good Union men was met with pleasant approbation and eager requests for directions, details and hasty preparation. Arriving at the Claremont Plantation near Charlestown West Virginia early one fine April Saturday, I was made sad. Amongst the sawing, hammering and general clatter from the faux town-street above on the hill, there was a general dearth of Federal Blue.
Taking my Alladin ™ cup of Quick Mart java in hand, I waited, pensively in the low grasses of the designated parking lot. Where, Oh where were the masses of Kersey Blue expected to swarm over the streets of the old Colonial town set? Was I, alone, to storm the town? I imagined the certain difficulty and absurdity of commanding myself in an assault, as well as the advantages. Right and left wheels would be a breeze. Soon the purring of reciprocating Mitsubishi engines was heard and there appeared one James Wassel and one Jason McConnell, men of Sykes’ Regulars, making us a brotherhood of three. After shaking hands we proceeded to the manor house in search of more hot coffee. Arriving in the upper foyer of the house we found a motley pile of sandals and platform wedgie shoes beneath a sign reading “Welcome Spring Bash 2000” written in colorful Psychedelic script. Hmmm… “What century is this, anyway?” Someone mused. But soon a friendly Secesh directed us to the lower level, where coffee, monster bran muffins (“I’ll stay constipated, Thank you”) and friendly advice were handed out. Seating ourselves outside near one of the fine stone urns beside the walkway, sipping steaming coffee and comparing notes, we soon espied a tall, ambling apparition approaching with measured tread and period spectacles. As he neared our perch a dark cloud momentarily blotted the morning sun, lifting only when he at last stood immediately before us. Could it be? It would seem it must. Without a word we accepted what had been fated, that he was to join us, a man from the North and West. He spoke. “Ya Shure, is a good mornin’. How goes it there, eh?” Spake he in melodic tones.
We exchanged furtive glances before asking cautiously in reply. “What unit be you with, Stranger?” Well feeling that we knew. “Second Wisconsin.” He said proudly, with a puff of his chest beneath his flannel blouse. Hopefully nodding among ourselves we ventured again. “And would you be one Yon Yonson?”
Here he paused, a darkness falling upon his visage, he failed to reply in the affirmative, and yet, neither did he in the negative. We collectively felt no need to ask again. While we had not found Him, He had found us. As it developed, Yon Yonson was of Quaker stock. During the day this became apparent as he partook not of strong language, song or drink. Avoiding all references to his specific heritage, we were still able to surmise that he was one of the brethren by these and other signs. His desire to wear his ‘Hardee’ hat, the cut of his whiskers and general friendly countenance left us in no doubt. Jason wanted his autograph on a box of oats. Down at the “location” we quickly sorted out ourselves and unfolding events. We met with Director Brad Graham briefly, fell in to have our muskets inspected, and met two other Union men, Ken from Joisey and Jim from Joisey. Two very hearty fellows they were and are. Ken being an enlistee, Jim of the officer’s persuasion. Finding a place of repose among the horse dung near a fence, we donned our knapsacks and great coats, happy that contrary to rumors, Yankees would be needed in the early hours of filming.
Soon we were in the thick of the action. Our first impression was to be that of Federal soldiers double-quicking in on the heels of fleeing greybacks. Several rehearsal takes were required, and then but two done under actual orders. We are Regulars after all. We scattered the Secesh, all six of us. Yon Yonson, Captain Joisy Jim and myself turning into an alley after clearing the way with lead. He had heart this Yonson. Jim W., Jason and Ken took the main street, galloping after and through the wounded rebs and into the lens. We were a sight to see.After observing a pyrotechnic bombardment (narrowly and obliviously avoiding being brained by falling timbers) and more skedaddling rebels for a good while, we were called on again to begin flushing from house to house. We were each to pause at a corner brick building, take a shot at Rebels across the street and then dash forward, myself into a doorway, preceded by Yon who was fated to fall to a sniper across the way. Jim W was to fire, and then reload from the cover of the corner, garnering him a nice CLOSEUP. The director remarked that the plum fell to Jim in the absence of Clark Oliver. This scenario required the most rehearsal and actual takes as it was shot from various angles. Jason, Ken and Capt. Jim covered us from a fence nearby, before advancing. That Yon Yonson had heart. He fell very convincingly on every take, bagging more bruises than a peach in a paint shaker. It takes more than food and rest to make a Wisconsin Quaker, By God, it takes character! Following a brief lunch of Bolognese sandwiches, fried cheese delicacies and rain water, filming resumed. Our tiny band swelled to almost company proportions as rebels doffed their grays and fell in suddenly quite blue.
We formed company front in the street, two deep. Jason and I tried to entice the others into singing a round of ‘Casey Jones’. There were no takers. Yon Yonson was not amused. The tables were turned numerically now. Fredericksburg was defended by almost six rebels. Advancing at port arms we were ambushed by from the left by some scoundrels in the same alley as earlier. I fool you twice, shame on you? The leftmost ranks fell wounded and thrashing as we on the right turned and fired, clearing the alley and chasing the few remaining Confederates into the waiting lens of the camera covering the inside of the alley. Again several takes from several angles. The main shots being managed in more than one instance in only one take, again, when Regulars led the way.
Taking a break as the crew made plans, we loafed our way to the parking area where I took my leave. Those others of our original six were planning to stay for the “plunder and pillage” scenario later in the evening. Due to previous commitments, (I went to a church to hear a choir sing that night, No Shit), I was heartlessly ribbed by Sir Jason and El Jim. Somewhere along the way to the wagon camp I had lost track of Yon Yonson. Hopefully he remained to serve with the other proud men the remainder of the day. My fervent hope is that he (or Jason) was chosen to put on the hoop skirt during the moonlight vandalism. We hope to see him again. Perhaps when we arrive on location for Gods and Generals, there he will be. Ready to fall in the name of country.
The following is a follow-up report by Jason McConnell on the evening's activities:
After Jim and Fred left, all of us stars ate like kings. Actually, they called it chile but it was really just some kind of bean soup with hot dogs in it. Pretty nasty. After supper, they staged the scene for the riot and looting. This was to be filmed in the dark so we had to wait around for an hour or so before we did anything (Sound familiar?)
The scene was very busy. Everything happening in the scene was taken from accounts of people who witnessed the melee. Bonfires, drunkenness, men wearing women's clothing, even a piano in the middle of the street. In the background, there were men throwing objects out of upper level windows and soldiers below either throwing them in the fires or putting them in their pockets. This soldier ripped a shutter off of a house and threw it in the fire. While all of this was going on, an obviously inebriated private comes out of the front of a house with his "date." This dame was pretty ugly, as she had a beard and a deep voice. All of the soldiers stopped what they were doing to cheer the happy couple down the street then went back to burning. In the foreground, a soldier sat and played the piano in the street while some of us gathered round to sing along. We drank and sang and then… CUT!!! They filmed one last scene which was just rifle flashes in the dark but since it was going to be used as Confederate rifle fire, I wanted nothing to do with it.
Sunday, I returned to Broadway in the hopes of being in some "pick up" scenes which were supposed to include close ups. Instead, I got to be another body just lying on the ground in the aftermath.

Written by Reporters in the Field,
Lance Cpl. Fred Grogan and Cpl.Jason McConnell

Weeping, Tired and Sunburnt or
Weekend at McHenry's

Arrived at Fort McHenry early Saturday accompanied by one new recruit. My coworker, Chris Craun, upon being invited had gladly submitted to spending the weekend with Sykes' Regulars at the Fort McHenry Civil War Weekend . Over beer and burgers with some of the crew the week before he had no doubt been blinded by visions of blazing phalanxes and rearing horses conjured for him by some of the veterans present.
Once on the grounds, we set up our tents, albeit too haphazardly it would turn out later, and proceeded to get Chris equipped. The Right Rev. Larry McGrane acting as brevet Quartermaster in this instance. Kersey trowsers, heavy with knee patches, dark blue sack coat, short in the sleeve, well worn forage hat and curl-toed brogans completed the sought after look. The way-back machine had done its work, and In short order we met with the other fellows on the company street. Pete Brooks, Jason McConnell, Marty Schoppert, Buck Kellaher, Clark Oliver, Flexi McDivett, Eric Schlegle et al. John our new recruit from the garrison event the previous month was there, as was Matt Boze alias 'Boneypart'. Sharing the grounds, our brother units of the National Regiment included, the Fifth New York - Duryea's Zouaves, the Eighth Ohio, the 53rd Pennsyl-tucky, and the 116th Lawn Guyland. It was a beautiful, fine, Early Spring day. Our officers and NCOs soon had the companies sorted out and moving through the pirouettes and pas de deux of company drill. Among those leading our company were, Leftenant Stephen Hanson, and First Sgt Craig Mastapietro, hard bitten and stern task masters both of them. Our company fell into its place as a division of the fourth company on the field. Commanding the Battalion was our own Adj. Will "Hutch" Hutchison, master of the square and keeper of the sacred book of right and wrong.
We tramp tramp tramped into and out of the Fort, putting on a right nice display of soldierly bearing for the public gathered there in awe. In the fort proper, a courtly gentleman was presented by the NPS with laurels and plaudits for his many years of service to the community in the realm of things historical. We watched respectfully at parade rest, then right faced into column to march out the sally port, the fifes and the drums of the battalion's music making light our steps. And the weather was fine.
There were loading and firing demonstrations, cavalry charges, and charge bayonets on the rope bound spectators. Our new recruits stepped lively and made a very good show. Speaking for one of them, he had the benefit of some brief and pointed drill, which he himself took to readily, and the additional help of some of the other fellows, Thank you Mr. Brooks, finished the rounding out by the end of the afternoon. Did I mention that the weather was fine? Cool and very sunny. With just the slightest notion of a breeze.
We of Sykes and some of the Zouaves retired to the Hull Street grill for dinner and good cheer. We ate well, drank well and sang a few songs. Our sponsor, Wendy stopped by for a visit. After much good talk we retired back to the Fort and spent some time at the fireside with Pete, Flexi, Jason, Mike and Matt of the Zouaves. After re-erecting my tent in the dark, I settled in for a chilly night.
Early morning, and gathered around the reviving campfire we compared our respective sunburns. Mine was a simple a warm upper dermal swelling. Jason had a scorched salmon thing working on his nose. Chris was the winner hands-down, with a deeply rouged head and neck overall.
Sunday's routine was very much the same as Saturday. Drill, maneuver, dress parade, marching into the Fort, demonstrations for the public. The weather remained just as pleasantly cool and bright. By the end of the day most Regulars faces had the red, shining, inflated look of fine law office furniture.
Feeling pretty done in myself, I asked Chris what his experience had been like. He had not slept well Saturday, after a day of feeling frustrated with the rifle drill and a bit taxed by the marching. The sunburn was the capper, his face feeling quite sore. Chris, a newlywed, was glad to be heading home.
"But, you know" he said "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."
Or words to that effect. It was a good weekend.

Written by Regular Reporter
Lance Cpl. Fred Grogan

McDowell
Click the picture for more photos of the McDowell event
Report from the Field

McDowell

A little bit closer…..
The weekend of May 5th and 6th found wagons slowly making their way over a mountain range so grand, so picturesque that one was hard pressed to believe that war could stand to be waged in such beauty.
Handfuls of soldiers from the National Regiment came together at the small village of McDowell which lies in the one of the least populated counties in Virginia. One of the reasons is its elevation. This mountain range has some of the steepest inclines this reporter has ever seen. Yet it was host to an engagement between the federal forces of John C. Fremont and the famous foot cavalry of a certain artillerist named Stonewall Jackson. He was a Regular once you know. This engagement must have been tough on the men as there are only two directions in this town; up and down.
We got into town after many miles and registered at the local town hall. Then off we went to find our camp. Each company was set up in a local resident’s yard. Our camp was next to the Hull House which served as a hospital and morgue after the battle. We arrived to find our smiling commander eagerly awaiting our arrival. The boys of the 5th NY were also there and we found a large pile of raw ration ready for our use. The lads busied themselves with setting up a-frames. Most of us hadn’t seen the inside of an a-frame in quite some time, but that’s what the organizers wanted and that’s what they got.
The command structure for the weekend was Captain Hutchison in command, Jim Wassel –Second in command. Matt Scheck (5th NY) First Sgt., Steve Thompson (5th NY)-2nd Sgt. and coporals McConnell, Grogan, Brooks and Rush. It would prove to be a stellar team.
We were told that we needed to supply men for details and the first of these was guard mount that would last all night. The organizers of this event, to their credit, were trying to do it as realistically as possible and asked that we stay in first person throughout the weekend. We did our best. The regiment we were portraying was raised in Virginia. A north western Virginia Federal unit. The next year would find it known as West Virginia. Most of the membership would have been farmers so we talked a lot about crops, and weather and bugs but mostly how good the crops would be this year.
Mr. Brooks took some of the raw rations and whipped up one of his famous stews and fed the troops while the officers attended their meetings. We spent a quiet evening around the fire and we soon took to our bunks to get ready for a 6:00 reveille. The night air was chill and the noises, including the howling of a mangy hound, made for a restless night’s sleep. The 1st Sergeant was up dark and early at 5:30 to rouse the officers. In the distance we could hear the musicians assembling themselves. We had orders to have the lads fall in at reveille with full accoutrement and rifles. An hour later we were to fall in for dress parade and find that we had company drill and battalion drill. Before that, the regiment was to be inspected by the Colonel. Out of the dress parade the companies right wheeled into a column of companies. They were then open ordered and went into inspection arms. The Colonel did a very thorough inspection that took some time but you can’t blame the man for being safe. Then the parade broke for company drill. The companies practiced firing and maneuver and some skirmish drill. The company moved well with all the veterans and we acquired new men throughout the morning. We were then allowed to take some breakfast.
We dined on turkey eggs provided by our host and a fine breakfast it was. We noticed as we digested our breakfast that a rebel flag was hanging from the country mercantile next door. It sort of hampered our digestive efforts so it was ordered removed by us. We were hoping for an altercation but we got grudging cooperation instead and the rag came down. Then we were off to company drill. We covered double columns on the center and several other routine maneuvers. The battalion worked well together for never having served with each other. The staff was mostly new to their jobs but they pulled it together and it looked like we were to become a competent fighting force.
When drill was finally finished we were witness to the incarceration of some sesech youth next to our camp. Their crime? They might soon become old enough to carry a rifle. The provost hog- tied them and the women of the town certainly had something to say about it. After a point we were called upon to help as they transferred the prisoners. A women was interrogated as a spy and she proved to be a little hysterical. BECAUSE SHE WAS CARRYING SPY PAPERS!!! The adjutant questioned her and then we lost track of the whole thing because we had important naps to take.
We then assembled for battle in full marching order. As we marched off the townsfolk indulged their ire at the Yankee presence by throwing a wide variety of vegetable matter at us. We took it all in stride. … Ha Get it? We were thinking of throwing our bayonets at them but we figured we might need them.
We arrived on the battlefield and engaged. We were in for a good old fashioned slug match. We were kept at a distance and then we advanced, arms port till the front rank dropped to ‘charge bayonets.’ We got closer, took casualties, then retreated and started the same process over again. We did this for a time till we were down to four men and an officer. War is hell.
We received our orders at the end of the battle and found we were to come to dinner in full marching order. They provided us with a fine brunswick stew and a good bread pudding. After we were done, we distributed the weight of our gear as equally over our bodies as we could and set off toward the mountain. We were in for a three mile hike to our bivouac site. Everyone did famously. A few blisters here and there but nothing critical. We were very proud of ourselves.
The mountain camp was beautiful. We had a spring running through and plenty of firewood. Then it began to rain. A slow rain but enough to make us believe we would be somewhat damp by morning. So… We built shelters. We didn’t have our dog tents, so we improvised. There was an out building nearby with wood which we used to build a giant tent. A call went out for rope and twine and there was plenty. We lashed together poles and covered it with our gum blankets. It slept 6 comfortably or 8 men spooning. Unfortunately half of the number slumbering in the tent snored. So a number of us slept in the open and enjoyed a beautiful night next to the fire.
Some of the other lads put up some planks against the outbuilding and affectionately named it the tick shack. The rest of the sissies went to sleep in the barn of the ranch. It of course then stopped raining. Reveille came early and we found that we would be eating breakfast on the run. We broke camp, fell in and off we marched.
We were three consolidated companies. Two companies stayed behind in town to guard their feet against blisters. We moved off in good order and settled into a ravine. The place made us nervous because it was a perfect place for an ambush. Fortunately we had cavalry videttes out and a company guarding the road. So we ate our breakfast in relative peace. Hard boiled turkey eggs. Ummm!
The first sign of the Johnnies was on the ridge to our right. The drummer noticed some movement and it seems the rebs had some skirmishers out for reconnaissance. We dropped into the ditch by a worm fence and waited. Captain Hutchison had versed us in the maneuver we would use to block the road. He broke the company into platoons the lined one behind the other. The first rank would kneel and fire the second would fire standing then kneel and the 3rd and 4th would fire in succession from the standing position. This creating a rolling fire and worked very effectively. Unfortunately we had to bug out our positions as the rebs worked their way down the ridge in an attempt to get in our rear. Our position became untenable.
We leap frogged the companies down the road into the fields below using the firing maneuver. As we cleared the road we found ourselves on open ground and the company reassembled. We sent out a skirmish line and the Johnnies came down the road in force. A company was high on the ridge and skirmishers held them up. We engaged and the lads fired volley after volley. These volleys were flawless. The file closers were incredibly impressed. We were pushed back and we crossed the stream in fine style and took up our last position before we headed back to town.
Once in town the Rebs started pushing. We were on the road and needed to stop their advance, so we did some street fighting by company. A company would stand in company front and fire a volley, then move to the left to unmask the next company. Our company, however, managed two volleys before heading to the rear. We fired our first, then about faced, loaded on the march and gave them another one. Each volley was flawless. The company in our rear was so impressed they cheered us as we peeled off to the left. We kept this up for a time and the Rebs kept pushing until of course we had to surrender because Stonewall Jackson was there and we were shaking so bad we dropped our rifles. To surrender to this extremely hairy version of Stonewall Jackson was mortifying. There’s no easy way to give up when you’re such a competent fighting force.
This event was great. We had the chance to do some hard soldiering and some first person. It was gratifying to see that some folks in the hobby are making an effort to make the experience more real. What was even more satisfying was how well we worked together. The command structure and the enlisted worked well together and our performance was excellent which always makes for a great time. Kudos to all those who attended and measured up to the challenge. Hopefully we’ll have a few more of these type of events on the schedule during the year.

Written by the Editor