Confederate In Blue

The New Adventure

2017-01-17T22:48:00.000-05:00

I have run this blog for nearly seven years now, posting my experiences of every Civil War reenactment I attended, plus more.

If you have been following my blog from the beginning, you watched my rise through the ranks from private, to major, and now lieutenant colonel.

You read my stories, and hopefully laughed with me on many.

2017 is a year of change. What we know and have become familiar with is no more, and only the future stands before us. In the coming years, if we continue to keep hold of the familiar, then continuation will be beyond our grasp. If we fail to change with change, then change will adjust us into oblivion.

Time changes all things, and all things must come to an end.

Lieutenant Colonel was my intended high point. I had no desires for anything higher. I was content with being second in command. To me, it was like walking on a mountain path, sunlight twinkling through the trees, the aspens quaking in the breeze, and birds chirping through the air.

But then the mountain disappeared and now I must learn to fly.

Colonel Danny Linkous of the Independent Guard Battalion resigned his commission, and now I command the battalion. It was not something I sought or wanted, but it is now something I have. There comes a time for every person where we can either retreat from a challenge, or courageously wrestle it to victory. I choose victory.

Over the years of my blog, I've stepped on more than a few toes. Some of it unintentional, some of it out of frustration. As the commander of the Independent Guard Battalion, my responsibilities take me where I must now close down this blog. This is my final entry.

It was a pleasure writing of my experiences. Now a new adventure begins for me. I'll see many of you on the field where you can join me in my adventure, and may we together find many great treasures at the end.

Russ Judge, the Confederate In Blue, signing off.

My Heritage

2016-12-27T19:47:00.000-05:00

As a young man, Miles P. Clark moved to Van Wert, Ohio from his home in New York to make a life for himself in the west. There, he met his wife Mary and became one of the managers of the St. Charles Hotel, hosting Cotillon Parties until the 1850s.

Around 1857, he was given the opportunity to take lead over his own life, instead of just being another employee, and moved his family and two sons to the frontier in Scott County of the Minnesota Territory, where he helped with the formation of the village of St. Lawerence, becoming the hotel keeper and postmaster when the village officially formed in 1858, the same year Minnesota became a state.

When war broke out in 1861, he had well established his home, having added a set of fraternal twins--a boy and a girl, now two years old, to join his nine and ten year-old sons. In September 1861, himself now of age 33, he left the hotel to the care of his wife and volunteered to join the 4th Minnesota Company A, mustering in at Ft Snelling, near St. Paul, about a day's ride from his home. Since he had a talent for music, he was enlisted as a musician.

Over the winter the regiment trained and drilled. Uniforms arrived three weeks after their training started. On March 18, 1862, the regiment received orders to proceed to St. Louis, Missouri, which was delayed until April 20th, since the river from Ft. Snelling was still not navigable until then. Passing by St. Paul on the way out, Miles played, "The Girl I Left Behind Me" with the rest of the regiment's band as people lined the bluffs with the men cheering as the steamboat sailed away. The regiment arrived at Benton Barracks in St. Louis on April 24th.

At the barracks, an innovative sutler had a supply of steel vests for sale. The vests consisted of two 1/16th inch plates bent to fit the chest. They were designed to slip into the lining of each side of an ordinary vest and intended to protect one from the hazards of the enemy. Also known as ironclads, the sutler sold them for between $7.50 and $20, depending on the quality and sophistication. Although there was a certain temptation to owning one of these, Miles was more interested in saving his hard-earned money for his family back home. As musician, he was not in quite the same danger as the rest of the regiment, so thought better of it. The vests became quite popular as the first few purchases regularly saw use as targets for revolvers and appeared to provide good protection.

The sutler gained a significant profit until, joining the regiment on the steamboat to Cairo, he tried to sell to one particular private. The private was skeptical, but agreed to purchase a set if it would stand the test against the minie ball of a Springfield. Borrowing a Springfield from the colonel's orderlies (the only ones in the regiment to have Springfields), they placed the vests against a sack of oats. It was with much amusement that the onlookers watched the bullet fire right through the plates and the oats, and skip up the river out of sight. Needless to say, the sutler made no more money off the regiment after that.

By May 14, 1862, the regiment arrived at Hamburgh Landing, Tennessee and began the march to Corinth, Mississippi. The march was hot. They were used to the weather of Minnesota, and these days in May were far worse than the August of the north. By May 30th, they reached the edges of the city of Corinth, joining up with most of the rest of the Union forces, a dense smoke enveloping the city.

Over the next month, the regiment moved to various locations around Corinth, looking for a good place to camp and scouting for the graybacks, seeing none but one around five miles southeast of Corinth.

But they had a severe attack from another source. The water of the Mississippi country was intolerant of the Yankee invaders and struck many down with severe bouts of dysentery. Sick call was of no help to those that suffered, as the men were accused of playing off and told to use a red-hot poker to seal themselves up. Change with sick call only occurred when death came, sending the message that the situation was dire.

The sickness continued through the end of June, and Miles Clark was not spared. He survived, but was not able to continue with the regiment, so was discharged for disability in July 1862.

Returning home, he soon found insufficient business to keep his hotel running, so by 1870 he relocated his family to Cairo, Minnesota, deep in the heart of the state to try his hand at farming with his brother Robert. His eldest son, now 19, still lived at home, but worked at the local store as a clerk.

Farming did not work well for Miles, and by 1880 he moved his family again to Hector, Minnesota, taking back his life as a hotel keeper. His eldest son moved on, but the rest of the children still lived in the hotel with their parents, with Willis working as a real-estate agent, and Harry, one of the twins, working as a telegraph operator. Hattie, the other twin, met George Ashby, one of the boarders of the hotel, that year, married him, and gave birth to a son, Harry in 1881.

By 1900, the Ashbys and the Clarks moved to Superior, Wisconsin on Lake Superior. Miles became an honorary member of G.A.R. and played his fife at every encampment until his death in 1907 at 81.

Harry Ashby grew to become the captain of the William P. Palmer, an ore ship known as a Tin Stacker--one of the largest ships in the world, and flagship for the Pittsburgh Steamship Company. Harry married Lulu Willerd, who died giving birth to G. Howard Ashby in 1910. Hattie, who had changed to going by Harriet, raised Howard since Harry was away on the Lakes for months at a time and could not care for him.

By the Great Depression of 1929, work was scarce, but Harry helped his son to get a job with the Pittsburgh Steamship Company, and before long, G. H. Ashby was the captain of his own ship.

During World War II, both men served in the Coast Guard.

G. H. Ashby married Doris Morrison and had two daughters, Barbara and Ellen.

Ellen is my mother.

On Christmas Day, 2016, my mother stumbled onto an old scrapbook. She didn't even know who had created it or where it came from. Most of what was in it were news clippings and letters covering the life of Harry Ashby, my great grandfather. But then I stumbled across an obiturary for a Civil War veteran, one Miles Clark, and suddenly I had a moment of shock. I had no knowledge of ties to the Civil War, and suddenly, staring at me, was a solid connection. The article referred to him being survived by a daughter, one "Mrs. Ashby", confirming some kind of connection.

The scrapbook also had certificates for Miles becoming an auctioneer and postmaster in Minnesota, and had a Cotillon Party invitation for the St. Charles Hotel for March 23, 1854, with Miles Clark listed as a manager. There was even a certificate, dated 1912, from the Adjutant General's Office of the State of Minnesota certifying Miles Clark's honorable discharge for disability on July 12, 1862.

Based on the focus of the scrapbook being Harry Ashby, and with the addition of pieces of the life of Miles Clark, along with an article about Mary Clark, I imagine it was Harriet Ashby, daughter of Miles Clark and mother of Harry Ashby, who compiled the scrapbook.

With online research I found Miles was enlisted as Musician for the 4th Minnesota, and I found the book "History of the Fourth Regiment of Minnesota Infantry Volunteers During the Great Rebellion" by Alonzo L. Brown to fill in the gaps of his story with the 4th Minnesota. The U.S. Census records of 1860 through 1910 confirmed all the rest.

Sometimes surprises can come in unusual ways. Although it looks like he saw no combat, he was a part of that history, and a direct tie for me to that history.

The Endless Hills

2016-10-10T19:59:00.000-04:00

Perryville KY

October 6-9, 2016

Early morning behind our camp.

I made an early start to Perryville, arriving Thursday afternoon. I located our camp by finding the tall bald Cpl Cochran standing next to Capt Sharp smoking his vapor pipe.

Capt Sharp had a rather large role in the planning of the event and was both the mixed camp coordinator and an engineer for the battle scenarios. His duties kept him away from camp, so I was assigned the duty of leading the 1st Tennessee for the weekend.

I set my camp and enjoyed the day. By supper there was a small group of us, so we made our way back to the village of Perryville and grabbed some burgers from the local grill.

There was supposed to be a tactical early Friday morning, but with very few of the 1st on site, and none of whom were interested in an early hike, so we chose to sleep in.

Capt. Sharp's duties never ended as tried to manage arrivals as they camped, ignoring the maps that indicated sites and encroached into various battalion perimeters. With nothing to do for the day, except for an eight pm officer's call, I relaxed by my tent reading "Maney's Confederate Brigade at the Battle of Perryville" by Stuart Sanders--an excellent book I would recommend to anyone interested in learning about the battle.

All of the men arrived by supper to enjoy the wonderful chicken chili dinner the ladies cooked for us.

At officers' call for the Independent Guard Battalion, we discussed the plans for the weekend and decided about uniting with the Tennessee Valley Battalion to form a new brigade to represent us and to cooperate together in this area of the country.

The night was surprisingly warm--or at least seemed so with the hand warmers I kept under my covers.

Saturday morning started early with a seven a.m. officers' meeting, followed soon after with battalion parade, where we voted for the positions of colonel, lt. colonel, and major. The three nominated to those positions were unopposed, so were quickly voted in. Danny Linkous was re-elected to colonel, I was elected to lt. colonel, and Richard DeWitt was elected to major.

We then formed with the Tennessee Valley Battalion to hold a regimental parade, followed by drill. It was after 10 am when we finally made it back to camp, with only about 90 minutes to enjoy the hearty breakfast the ladies had cooked for us.

We formed the company for battle and I led the men into battalion formation, where we joined the Tennessee Valley Battalion to go into battle as the 1st Tennessee Regiment. We were last company, the 12th company of the regiment, and we were led into battle with our own company colors, the only of two colors taken into battle belonging to a private group. The rest of the colors were issued by the park--but ours was allowed to be used due to its accuracy to the original.

Andrew Enyart was responsible for making our colors about nine years ago. He visited a museum in Nashville, Tennessee, took pictures and made careful measurements to ensure our flag was as close as possible to the original. His efforts gave us something to be proud of.

The regiment we formed included us, the 1st Tennessee Co B of the Independent Guard Battalion, and the 1st Tennessee Co D of the Tennessee Valley Battalion, so it was a great honor for us to be representing the 1st Tennessee Regiment in this battle.

Before going into battle, we stopped at the memorial cemetery. Both us and Company D were called forward to offer a firing salute to those who had fallen on this field.

As the battle started, we were in the reserve, so were the last onto the field. As we pushed up the hill, at times we were ordered to fire by company. I was thrilled to be able to be able to give the order, "Rock City Guards, Ready! Aim! Fire!"

The battle ended short with many of my men only firing around ten rounds.

As the brigades returned to camp, Co D joined us as we marched nearby to where thirty of the original 1st Tennessee soldiers had fallen to hold a small memorial service to them. Each of us had been given a couple of Polk-pattern flags to match the 1st Tennessee's battle flag, and the names of the fallen were read off. Each flag had a name, and as that name was called off, we placed the flag into the ground. When all names were called off, the line of flags represented a battle line as they might have had at the battle.

We finished the ceremony by retiring our own flag, an emotional moment for many of us. Sgt Nyman carried the flag in review before each of Co B, and then the flag was folded, never to be unfurled again. A monument will be constructed to mark the place where the soldiers of the 1st Tennessee Regiment fell, and underneath that monument our flag will be buried.

We returned to camp to enjoy another meal our ladies provided. I cannot express enough gratitude for the meals that the ladies of the 1st Tennessee Co B cooked for us.

As dark encroached, most of us loaded our knapsacks with extra blankets and put on our great coats to march back to Starkweather Hill. Our goal was to come as close as we could determine to where Marcus Toney wrote that he had buried the dead from the original Company B. It was a dark march as Company D from the Tennessee Valley Battalion joined us and we only had a couple of lanterns and moonlight to guide the way. Capt Sharp led the way into the woods, hitting his shin on a rock when deciding we were probably as close as we were going to get. We laid our ground cloths down on the incline and covered up for the night. Pvt Compton brought some charcoal to get a fire going, but I think we were all too tired to really care about much of one, but Capt Sharp did put together a bit of dead brush for a ten minute fire.

Marching back to camp after our overnight stay near Starkweather Hill

Cpl Cochran did seem to express concern about ghosts in the area, but other than a rather strange and loud howl of some unknown sort that woke us all up, it was a rather uneventful night. The sound is difficult for me to describe as I only heard it in a half-waking state, but others described it as the sound from a deflating balloon--I suppose similar to when you stretch the end of it to get it to screech. It gave quite a start to many of the men, but I was back asleep before I heard anyone comment on it. The next day, some commented that it may have been a bobcat.

Sunday morning was light. We had a quick battalion parade to inspect weapons, then returned to camp and enjoyed a pancake breakfast, then had until noon to form for the afternoon battle near the Bottom House, on the opposite end of the battlefield from our battle Saturday.

The march to the battlefield was long and arduous. Though we didn't march with our packs like we did on Saturday, it was a longer march under seemingly hotter weather. We had plenty of time to recover once we reached our staging area for the battle, so we were good and ready to go when our turn into the fight came. Representing the 13th Arkansas, we pushed across Doctor's Creek, getting our feet a bit wet, and our uniforms muddy as we scrambled up the embankment on the far side of the creek. The entire battle we pushed uphill, and it proved overwhelming to a number of the men. Col Linkous had to fall out for a little to catch his breath, and Dave Julian, brevetted to Lt Col. also was out for a little, leaving Major Rick DeWitt in charge. Still green, I think at one point he, seeking advice, even asked me, "Should we just go to independent fire?" To which I responded, "Sounds good to me, sir!" Major DeWitt strikes me as one who will do the work to learn his role as major--and being put into trial by fire probably was one of the best training points he could have gotten. I'm certain he will prove an excellent resource in his new position.

Col Linkous did return to command once he was able to catch back up with us, pushing us on to the top of the hill. The battle ended for us, though, when one of the privates of the consolidated 10th Tennessee/Austen's Battalion had a malfunction with his rifle where the nipple blew out and burned his hand. He'll probably be wearing a bandage for a week or so, but otherwise he seemed to be okay.

I formed the men up for the last time for the weekend and started to give them a quick speech for their excellent service when I was interrupted by Capt Sharp running up to us. "What do you think you're doing with my men!" he shouted at me and then saluted and said, "Lt Judge, you are relieved," to which I replied, "I am relieved, sir!" I stepped aside to let Capt Sharp give the closing message, and then mosey us to the parking lot to our cars.

I'm not wearing my glasses

2016-09-20T19:57:00.000-04:00

Sidney Ohio

September 17-18, 2016

After setting camp, rain threatened, but never materialized. We hoped to have as many as 20 rifles show, but arrivals were light. In the end, the 1st had around ten rifles plus a handful from the 13th VA and 9th KY.

The night was comfortable, interrupted by light rain and a thunderstorm.

With Capt Sharp as overall commander of a two company battalion, I had command of the 1st Tennessee. Because of Capt Sharp's high level of involvement in the planning for the event, he was given a gator to be able to quickly travel about the park. He got a bit of enjoyment out of riding it around, dropping off wood for all the camps, and threatened to four-wheel it through the creek around midnight.

Saturday morning brought rations in excess, and I ate a hearty breakfast, though I decided to not break my teeth on the hardtack.

After battalion parade, the other company went on patrol while members of the 1st Tennessee were assigned picket duty.

Rain arrived and soaked the grounds, and Capt Sharp had me go ahead and pull the pickets. We heard reports of the possibility of delaying the battle, but we were able to keep to the schedule.

A few of us, including myself, put on ponchos to try to keep from getting much wetter as we went into the battle. I tried to follow Capt Sharp's guide as I led the 1st Tennessee, but my game was off. I did okay, but I felt like a deer staring down headlights, messing up commands and sluggish with the delivery. We crossed the creek beside the covered bridge and made our way across the battlefield against the Yankees. The other company soon joined us, but were in a bit of disarray as they were a consolidation of about five companies with too many NCOs. We were pushed back to the bridge, and we left the field.

With how much I felt I messed things up, I started blaming it on the fact I wasn't wearing my glasses.

The event served supper for us back in the civilian area. The meal was a delicious and healthy serving of pulled-pork and chicken with potatoes.

When the night got dark, we marched out to the creek for a night battle. The infantry lit up the night with barrage after barrage, with an occasional blast from artillery. Occasionally Lt James Sturckler shouted random orders to make it sound like we had more going on, such as "Bring up the ammo wagon!" I responded, "Ammo wagon coming forward, sir!" It was black, and only the light from our the muzzles gave any indication of where we were.

Sunday morning we were assigned a patrol action to a ford along the creek. We expected to encounter the enemy, so when we reached the ford, I sent Sgt Carte with a squad to scout ahead. When they signaled us clear, I sent the rest of the company across while the first squad remained at the ready, expecting the enemy to arrive at any time. On the far side, we set up defensive positions, then eyed over the top of the banks to find the field clear. The Yankees must have gotten lost or something. We followed a canal tow path down toward the Yankee camp at 10 pace intervals for a time, until we came to a bridge that a few Yankees held. Rapidly moving each file into position on the path to fire, then vacating for the next file, we pushed our way to the bridge and took it. The Yankees took position down a small ravine, giving us the high ground. They continued their retreat, and we pursued them from the high ground in quickly moving skirmish lines all the way back to civilian camp. Capt Sharp noticed that Yankee reinforcements might soon arrive, and a Union gun started to move into position, so we abandoned the pursuit and made our way back across the creek.

For the battle, the 1st Tennessee staged near the civilian camp behind the spectators. The plan was that we would be the reinforcements into the battle. As the battle progressed, our other company was pushed back nearly completely off the field, and Capt Sharp called us onto the field. I ordered the 1st down at the double-quick, bringing us onto the field a mere ten feet from a lone soldier with a Henry. After a quick foul word of shock, that soldier skedaddled off.

We pushed the Yankees back, and eventually took the field.

As we marched back to camp to end the weekend, I ordered "Right shoulder-shift". My brain started messing things up again, and wanted to say "march", but I knew the execution was "arms"--causing it to come out "marms". I wasn't wearing my glasses.

Article

Outnumbered at Shawshank

2016-08-31T08:01:00.000-04:00

Ohio State Reformatory

Mansfield, OH

August 27, 2016

With a significant number of promises from the men of meeting Capt Sharp at the Ohio Reformatory in Mansfield, Ohio, we planned to spend a good portion of the day in drill, fine-tuning our skills for the next couple of events.

But much of that number went AWOL, leaving us with little more than a squad, so any idea of drill was quickly forgotten.

Pvt Steve Winston pitched his tent and started the fire. Sgt Jeff Carte set up a tent and the fly. But as this was a one-day event, most arrived Saturday morning in time for roll-call.

Instead, we spent much of the day in discussion. Capt Sharp spent some time with us working out ideas for first-person impressions. We did have a short drill, but a second drill, planned as consolidated with the Yankee contingent, was canceled when Capt Sharp was called away to assist in convincing a very ailing Doc Gill to report to Q Company.

When night fell, after visiting several scenes of era civilians headed by Elizabeth Topping, a tour of the public came out to meet with us. Capt Sharp gave a talk discussing our life as soldiers while a couple of men stood picket a ways off, and the rest of us just hung around looking busy. Eventually a small Yankee contingent attacked. We pushed them off, and the night concluded.

Preparing for Battle

2016-08-21T16:15:00.000-04:00

Perryville Cleanup Day

August 20th 2016

Perryville, KY

Saturday morning on August 20--just after 9 am--we met with the park officials at Perryville Battlefield. They gave us some tools, and we headed for the hill next to Starkweather Hill.

The job before us was to remove a modern wire fence that had put up after the Battle of Perryville. This work in particular was important as we would be fighting the Saturday battle during the October reenactment across this land. This was ground recently acquired by the park where few had ever been since the battle, and not far beyond this fence is where many of the original 1st Tennessee were buried after the battle.

At the bottom of the hill, Steven Winston had already started Friday afternoon, removing a good portion of the fence. We started with bold cutters, pulling off fencing through weeds and overgrowth, folding the pieces up into piles to be carried away later. Progress was slow and the ground was wet. Steven Winston worked with Kurt (the curator of the park) in pulling the fence posts and placing them in piles to be pulled away.

At one point, Rick Compton needed to get something out of his truck at the top of the hill, and drove it back down to where we worked. He got it in his head that there had to be an easier way to remove the fence.

He was proud of his four wheel drive Ford F-150 with with brush guards, and anxious to learn what all the newfangled buttons were for. Rick was giddy with delight at being able to use his truck in this manner, and I was more than happy to assist with this play time. We hooked a strap to the front of his truck, then around some of the wire fence and he threw the truck into reverse, pulling the fence off taking about a hundred yards of of fence in short order.

Over the course of the day, we broke the 4000 pound strap a couple of times trying to pull the fence with Ricks truck out of a tree.

At 1 p.m. we had almost finished the fence with about a hundred yards to go, but were called in due to an incoming storm.

We met back at the Museum and then to the local Marathon station where there was food to eat for lunch, returning to the fence after the rains had cleared.

We finished the work after about an hour, returning to Danville to our hotel and eating at a local pizza place.

Rain

2016-08-15T15:56:00.002-04:00

I was the first of the company to arrive at Hale Farm, and found we were assigned our usual location in the woods. I started to drive my car down the trail into the woods, but rains had been pummeling the area, leaving rutted mud paths where the wheels of my car would only spin, so I parked just to the edge of the woods and started unloading.

I was soon confronted by Col Van Wey with a handshake. Among a bit of small talk he pointed to the piles of dirt on the field where the battles would be held. The crew that made those piles had not followed the instructions which included the digging of trenches. However, it was probably good as we agreed we would probably end up reenacting the Parting of the Red Sea.

The rest of the company arrived, and all but myself decided to campaign, sleeping under a fly or shebang. I came, not knowing what rank I would hold, so had gear for both private and lieutenant and needed a place to store my spare gear, so had the only A in camp.

With the threat of rain lasting all weekend long, our numbers were down. None of our ladies attended.

The schedule Saturday was pretty light, with only picket duty being assigned. An abundance of rations was issued early and timely, which included pork, potatoes, eggs, and apples.

We went into parade with my rifle in my hand. We expected a new recruit to arrive who would be carrying my gun, but he had not shown yet, and we needed the rifles.

A quick morning parade, then we worked to improve the breastworks, adding logs to strengthen. When we finished we were free to relax and enjoy the rest of our morning.

Our new recruit did finally show, and we outfitted him in time for battle, allowing me to carry a sword instead of a rifle.

We went into battle and defended the breastwork. As the battle neared completion, the rains hit hard, first drenching the crowds, giving us a show as if the apocalypse was upon us as they scattered to shelter. But the rains quickly hit us as well, and we had the men clear muskets and double-quick to the shelter of the woods.

The rains continued for hours, turning our camp into a lake. Picket duty was canceled. Dinner approached and Pvt Compton cooked a tasty dinner for us, combining the rations with corn, spinach, and onion, running out to the campfire when the rains let up and returning to shelter when the clouds opened up.

Pvt Matt Roberts showed up late into the night and joined us, setting up a shebang next to Cpl Silvers.

I settled for the night, getting dry in the warm night inside my tent.

Morning came to more wet. Pvt Compton wanted to cook up breakfast for us, but finally gave up out of frustration, unable to get coals worked up between the heavy and constant rains. Except for morning parade and the battle, all other activities were canceled.

Between parade and the battle, we broke camp and hauled off our gear to our cars, trying to beat the worst of the rains we heard were coming.

The battle proceeded, and we fought until we ran out of ammunition, but we held the breastworks.

And with nothing left dry in our possession, we left.

The Bold and the Beautiful

2016-07-31T22:34:00.001-04:00

Gathering at Garst
Greenville OH

July 30-31, 2016

I arrived late Friday to living history area at the Garst Museum in Greenville, OH for the Gathering at Garst event.

Greenville was a quiet event, with numbers down from previous years. We set camp with four tents in a corner of the park and relaxed the night. Rain was a concern for the weekend, as it the sky had angrily drenched the area earlier, but we were hopeful. The air was dense with moisture--so thick that I could see my breath even though I was drenched in sweat.

As I lay on the ground in my tent in the warm air, I felt heat pulled from me, and realized that I would be uncomfortably cold once I fell asleep. It occurred to me that the wet ground was responsible, so I slept on top of my blanket, instead of underneath it--and maintain a cozy body temperature throughout the night.

Saturday morning came and I fried up my regular bacon and eggs. One soldier from Arkansas asked to fall in with us for the weekend, so we gave him a home, which we later grew to regret.

Once the park opened to the public, we received a visit from a young woman interested in history, one Caitlin. Though Capt. Sharp, having removed his rank, dominated the conversation with covering everything from the materials of our uniform to the various battles of the 1st, the rest of us provided solid contributions. I did hope that Capt. Sharp would continue for as long as possible as it kept Ms. Clark in our presence all the more. Her only flaw was that she would soon be moving to Virginia.

We later met with a new recruit, David, another promising student of history.

Throughout the day we presented our living history, teaching about the life of the soldier and about the history of the 1st Tennessee.

Dinner time arrived and a few of us decided to pass on keeping with period and visited a local restaurant called "Maid Rite" and feasted on sandwiches of ground beef.

Back in camp, we held casual conversations, but reached levels of annoyance with our visiting soldier. Throughout the day, this soldier tended to interject in conversations with little to add, usually interrupting a voice of value. During our evening conversations he hijaacked the night with tirades of how he was $5,000 upside-down on his car. I tried to change the subject by commenting how fantastic Sgt. Carte's frock was--but the guest continued on without notice. Pvt Myers and I both vacated the area for some moments to relieve ourselves at the porcelain palace, returning nearly ten minutes later without a single point of the hijaacking missed. I think a clue finally crept into the man's obtuse cranium when Pvt Myers and I relocated our seats away from him and around the campfire, as he finally said his goodbyes (taking some ten minutes to do so) and departing. We were relieved that he had not set a tent.

Sunday was a bit lighter, with two of our numbers unable to return for the day. The lesser numbers had little effect, however, since there was also lesser of the public visiting our camp. We did, however, encounter one former fireman from Tennessee who expressed interest in joining our group--I gave him our contact information and hope to hear from him soon. We also found a young college student who plans to study history that was interested in joining up with us, and I hope to hear from him soon as well.

Our soldier guest did return, to our chagrin--at one point annoying Sgt Carte that he finally spoke up scolded him when he started down a discussion with a member of the public about Bedford Forrest--the details of such subject had no relevance to our purpose.

Overall it was a relaxing weekend, exercising some of our demonstration skills and finding several potential recruits.

Through the Woods

2016-07-11T15:56:00.001-04:00

Sharon Woods Heritage Village
Sharonville, Ohio

Photo courtesy Cincinnati Enquirer

July 9-10, 2016

Arriving Friday at Sharon Woods Heritage Village was unremarkable. I was the first of the company to arrive, so I found our designated campsite and pitched my tent. A steady stream arrived, and by nightfall most of the 1st Tennessee was present.

The night was warm, so I laid my poncho under a tree near my tent and slept there, undisturbed and rather comfortable through the night.

As I cooked my morning bacon and eggs, there were concerns for a light reenactor turnout. Although the 1st Tennessee was there in force, with numbers that included several new recruits, many of the other companies, both Confederate and Yankee, lacked the expected numbers. Capt Sharp, breveted to colonel for the weekend as the overall Confederate commander, worked on contigency plans in the event the necessary soldiers were AWOL for the battle, including the possibility of splitting the 1st into two companies, as we had nearly 20 rifles present.

With the duties of overall command, Capt. Sharp left the military responsiblities of the company to me. We drilled for about an hour, spending extra time with wheels since there seemed to be difficulty in keeping a straight line.

After a break of a few hours for lunch, we formed with the battalion for battle. The scenario for both days was the Battle of Balls Bluff. Capt. Sharp reassigned about five of the 1st Tennessee to another company to balance the numbers. In all, we had three companies to take into battle. Capt Sharp led the first two onto the battlefield, while I took the 1st Tennessee the other way, down a trail into the woods. At a point where the gravel path turned away, I led them off, heading up a hill. The steep grade proved difficult for a few, so we paused at the top to catch our breath.

Continuing, I led them through, leaving the men guessing as to our destination. We could hear the sound of cannon and muskets as we pushed our way through untraveled brush. We soon came through the woods onto the road, following it to the top of the hill beside the battlefield.

Carefully finding out footing on the way down the hill, we reformed at the bottom, charging out to assault the Yankees. The other two Confederate companies were being overwhelmed by the enemy, but rallied once we provided the numbers. We pushed the Yankees back, turning the battle and quickly gaining victory.

Once the battle concluded, a couple of Yankee soldiers ran back and forth with a litter, overwhelmed as they carried off the dead and wounded.

We had a few hours after the battle to relax and got a few games of Euchre in. It had been awhile since we had played, so it was nice to get back to tradition.

We formed for parade and held inspection shortly after the men were given enough time to clean their muskets.

Supper included barbeque chicken and shredded beef with macaroni and cheese.

Another warm night brought morning to more bacon and eggs. We canceled drill, so most of the morning was relaxed to hanging around the campfire and playing some Euchre.

Capt Sharp met with the Yankee commanders to discuss the battle, and informed how impressed he was by the relationship that was building. He told me they saluted him to honor him as the planner for the battle scenario.

As the time for battle arrived, the 4th Ohio joined us, switching uniforms to galvanize as the 4th Florida. With their numbers, we were more balanced and did not need to split off the 1st into another company. I was surprised to get a number of requests of the 1st Tennessee to repeat the action through the woods that we had done Saturday--which provided us less time to burn powder.

After we inspected arms, I again took the men down the trail through the woods, then up the hill. When we came onto he field, we pushed hard and fast at the double-quick after the Yankees, quickly pushing back toward the creek.

As we neared the conclusion of hostilities, one of the soldiers experienced a malfunction in his musket. The cleaning screw of his Springfield blew out. A couple of men next to him received a bit of the blow-out, but no one--fortunately--was hurt. One had a small cut, while another was protected from an eyepatch he was wearing for medical reasons.

Other than that malfunction, the weekend was a solid success. We heard reports that the battle scenario was the best ever experienced at Sharon Woods.

More photos

Anybody want a gun?

2016-06-13T13:59:00.000-04:00

Thunder in the Valley

Battle of Cross Keys

Port Republic, Virginia

June 11-12, 2016

With the long drive to Virginia, J.R. Sharp, Chad Cochran, Jeff Carte, Rick Compton, Mark Nichols, and I stopped in Lexington for a tour of Lee's Chapel at Washington and Lee University, and a tour of the museum at VMI.

Aftward, J.R. checked his smart phone for a local restaurant, finding the Southern Inn, which looked promising. He reserved our place--but when we arrived and were seated, he realized by the superfluous amount of silverware he had picked the wrong restaurant. Although the food was excellent, our casual dress put us a bit out of place, and the prices put a bit of a dent in our wallets.

Returning to the drive, we followed GPS coordinates to the address we were given for registration for Thunder in the Valley, and were led to a road the led to nowhere. Fortunately, a bit of educated guessing got us on track, and we soon found our destination, unpacking and changing into our uniforms and gear (though J.R. and Chad chose to change back at Lee's Chapel). Jeff and Mark parked their trucks at the parking lot a few miles away, returning by shuttle, while Rick and I watched the gear and J.R. and Chad headed for the officer's meeting.

For the weekend, J.R. took the rank of major. Chad was corporal, posting with the color guard. Jeff was also a corporal, while Mark, Rick and I were privates.

Once Mark and Jeff returned, we marched the distance to camp and bivouacked for the night.

The night was a bit cool as I had a little difficulty keeping warm under my blanket--eventually pulling out my shelter half out of my knapsack to use as an extra blanket. The ground was uneven and highly sloped. At one point during the night, Cpl Carte rolled a distance down the hill.

Morning finally came and I ate a supply of my pre-cooked bacon out of my haversack, along with a bit of other rations. Cpl Cochran brought an abundance of essence of coffee, and was able to supply me with a hearty cup. Though it was sweetened, it was satisfying.

The morning was spent relaxing, waiting, drilling, and holding battalion parade. We had a long 3 mile march ahead of us in high heat, so Lt. Col. Ben Cwayna instructed us to leave behind anything that was not necessary. Pvt Compton quickly took the lead, dumping whatever he could, even holding up his musket and asking, "Anybody want a gun?"

We marched out for the battle, facing the Yankees from behind a fence. Skirmishers went out first, facing the Yankees beyond the crest of the hill and out of our sight, then falling back. As we hunkered down behind the fence, we eventually saw the Stars and Stripes rise to our far right above the crest, followed by the Yankee battalion.

The split-rail fence was stacked in a jagged formation, and our line followed this formation, giving us difficulty in safely firing upon the Yankees, so our section worked out a routine where two would take to the fence and fire, falling back to reload while the next two filled the gap. Eventually the Yankees were forced back and we pushed our way onto the field, eventually winning the day.

When we began our march, I immediately realized that we were marching at too fast a pace, complaining about it to those around me. We might be fine for the first mile, but in this heat (in the 90s) I knew we would be suffering casualties. Our rate was at a quick-step, instead of a normal common-time step.

We climbed the first hill on the asphat that steadily baked our feet, and Cpl Carte already had to step out. I stood with him, to make sure he would be all right, continuing the march from the back with Major Sharp at the back of the column once Jeff was loaded into the follow vehicle.

We stopped for a short five-minute break to refill canteens, and continued on, Cpl Carte rejoining us, stopping again for about half an hour about halfway. By now we already had about a half-dozen casualties.

We stopped again for another short five minutes to refill canteens, stopping at a crossroad in the sun. I was able to march most of the way, but after this stop I found difficulty keeping the pace, eventually hitching a ride with the follow vehicle when I found myself at the back of the column, getting further and further behind.

We finally arrived at camp, near a fork of the river and many took to cooling off, wading through the cool waters. I threw off all my gear and crashed.

As hunger set in for the evening, we heard rumors of someone selling cooked chicken halves. She was eventually tracked down, and we happily enjoyed the chicken over rations we had carried.

I slept through the night in an unconscious stupor, keeping comfortable in the warm air.

We prepared for another march--this one a two-mile march to the next battlefield. A number of soldiers decided to find a way to ride on a shuttle to the battlefield, and so I and Major Sharp decided to join them. I figured I probably could have made the march--but I had nothing to prove and did not want to tear myself apart marching in the grueling sun.

We followed the column in the truck and picked up casualties as they fell, eventually arriving at the battlefield.

We rested at the edge of the wooded trail that led to the battlefield, finally marching single-file in. We reformed at the foot of a hill to begin our assault. One battalion pushed forward and was repulsed, then our battalion pushed up the hill until we were repulsed. We made a second push up the hill, but the ground was steep and slick, and I could no longer keep up. I eventually stumbled over a log to find Major Sharp recovering from the wounds of war, where I fell beside him to recover from my own wounds.

The battle soon ended, through I don't know who won. I just know I was ready to sleep in the truck on the way home.

The Cycle Begins Again

2016-05-16T19:50:00.000-04:00

Hartford City, IN

May 14-15, 2016

The sun Friday as I arrived gave a false promise of good weather for the weekend at Hartford City. I was able to keep warm through the night, almost too warm, even.

But as I rose Saturday morning to wind and occasional cold spit from the skies we struggled to keep warm around the fire as we cooked for morning breakfast, tearing our eyes through the smokey burn of cedar. Stories of the night of canvas flying off their posts from the wind and ridgepoles falling on the tent occupants circled around the fire.

It was to be a busy day, with a morning battle immediately after parade, followed by a drill at one, and a second battle at four. The battle scenarios for both of Saturday's battles and for Sunday's battle centered around parts of First Manassas.

We were to lose that first battle. I brought my wing down to face the Yankee wing, and we reached a stand-off with even numbers. Capt Sharp told me he would cause the 1st Tennessee (7th Company) to break, giving the entire wing the excuse to collapse and fall back, if only the Yankees would fire a volley by wing--or even by company. But they continued only at independent fire--so I ordered a fire by wing, and immediately withdrew the entire wing in an apparent panic withdrawal, to give the crowds the impression of a total collapse. We reformed and gave enough pressure only to slow the Yankee advance, but not to stop it, eventually forcing us from the field.

We sat around the fire, shifting to the fly whenever cold spit started hitting us from the heavens, fighting to keep warm in any way we could. As the time for drill approached, Colonel Linkous decided to cancel drill to allow us the chance to stay warm and dry.

We formed for the afternoon battle. The colonel instructed me that I was to take my wing to face a Yankee wing that would be down at the low point in the center of the battlefield, so I took the wing at the left flank onto the battlefield. As I crested the hill, however, I saw that the Yankees were in fact much further to our left. I had planned on simply fronting the wing, adjusting the line with a short wheel, if needed, but this was no longer appropriate. Without thinking that the men were at the left flank, I ordered, "Companies into Line", followed by "Forward into line on the last company".

Taking cover from an artillery blast.

If you are not a reenactor, you won't realize how difficult this can be done at the left flank. Maneuvers like this are almost never done at the left flank--so everything is pretty much an opposite mirror of what we are all used to doing. To do "Companies into Line", each company does "Company into line", which forms each company into a battle line. Normally, when doing this at the right flank, the companies form off their 1st sergeant (forming to the left), but at the left flank, it's off the second sergeant (forming to the right), which can be confusing if too much thought is put into the process. And my "Forward into line" command, which (I believe) should have been "By inversion, forward into line," would normally be followed by a left half-wheel--but because we were marching inverted, is followed by a right half-wheel instead.

I have to say, that in spite of being at the left flank, and being inverted, and my not getting the last command right, the men executed the maneuvers perfectly. I almost regretted performing these maneuvers, because at 1st Manassas, the men would not have been drilled very well, and I am not sure that the actual soldiers would have maneuvered as well as these men did this early in the war.

Once in our battleline, I took my time advancing. We pushed a little, and the Yankee wing advanced to face us. But at one point, the Yankees shifted to our left to try and flank us. The error in that plan, however, was that it forced me to cause the 1st Tennessee to refuse, putting them at an angle that caused us to be directed toward the watching crowd. The entire Yankee line soon joined the angle, so all I could do was to answer, wheeling the wing to face them. For safety concerns, the 4th Florida refused to fire at the direction toward the crowd--and I held no issue with that. Those Yankees were turning the battle into a farce. I looked to the right to see the situation that right wing was in--and the Yankees they faced were near decimated while right wing was still at full strength. This action the Yankees were doing was a fool's errand--we were even matched. All I needed do was to stand fast and wait for right wing to join the fray, and the Yankees would be bottled up with no where to go.

The Yankees did finally get a brain in their midst and start to retreat before our right wing could join us, allowing us to readjust our angle away from the crowd. It was a learning experience, and after the battle we discussed the action and how to prepare to prevent the Yankees from making such a move again--so for Sunday's battle we were prepared.

The meal offered that evening was quite enjoyable, though a number of the 1st Tennessee--including Capt Sharp--stayed in camp to have some Cowboy stew, which they regretted the next morning. Though when I and Private Farrelly returned to camp with Cherry cobbler, they couldn't help but make the trek to the mess hall to grab some desserts of their own.

Through the night Saturday I was unable to keep warm, waking on occasion to shiver out enough warmth to drift to sleep again. Once I woke to hear the sound of rain on my canvas.

A dreary light through the canvas woke me, and eventually I heard the sounds of the 1st Tennessee as they gathered by the campfire. I gathered myself, tied my cravat, straightened my hair, put on my coat and boots, and trudged out to the fire to give my morning greetings in a grunt that acknowledged their presence.

The day looked to be better than Saturday, with the sun peaking through the clearing skies, but started much colder.

I cooked my breakfast and headed to headquarters to get the day's schedule.

We formed for parade at 10:30, and afterward drilled for about an hour.

We formed for the battle, which was planned to be Jackson's stand at Manassas.

I took the left wing out to the left in an inverted column, bringing them on the left into line once in position.

We pushed down the hill to the Yankee wing and met with solid resistance. Unable to push, we began to fall back, but soon our lines broke as soldiers fled back. I reformed the wing behind right-wing, who pushed forward in force to allow us to regroup. We dressed to the right wing and pushed. When I saw the entire Yankee wing turn to retreat, I ordered us to push, stopping only when the Yankees turned to face us. I thought of ordering the men at the double-quick, but we were already pushing faster than the colors and the right wing.

I let Capt Sharp take the 7th company off on their own to flank the wing--but the Yankees kept falling back before he had the chance. We pushed all the way to the Yankee artillery, and Capt Sharp took the chance to capture one of the guns. The Yankees surrendered shortly after.

Article of Event

Defencing the Line

2016-04-24T17:13:00.000-04:00

PERRYVILLE CLEANUP DAY

Perryville, KY

April 23, 2016

We drove down to Perryville, KY and set up camp at the Baymont Inn in Harrodsburg, surviving the night with what sounded like someone sharpening a sword with a grindstone.

We broke camp early, arriving at the Perryville Battlefield at 9 am, meeting with Chad Greene for instructions. Our simple goal was to progress the battlefield toward its condition at the time of the battle. Because the actual clean-up day was the same day as our drill, the park set up this special day for cleanup exclusively for us.

One of the piles of wire fencing we removed.

He directed us to a wire fence with barbwire that needed removed. Expectations were that it would take us the bulk of the day to remove the some three to four hundred yards of fencing, but the thirteen of us worked quickly, completely stripping the wire well before noon, having time to begin work in tearing a barn down.

Part way into the barn demolition

We stopped for lunch, eating hot dogs and chips provided by the caretakers of the battlefield.

We returned to the barn and finished stripping the sides off and removing boards inside. The wood we saved was to be used in constructing a barn that will be burned down during the reenactment in October. Once we cleared the construction, Chad Greene lashed a chain to the support beams and had a bobcat pull the barn down. We finished our work removing the tin roof.

After cleaning up back in Harrodsburg, we made our way to the Kentucky Fudge Factory and relaxed to a quiet evening on the back porch.

We endured another night of sword sharpening, then headed home, stopping at the Lexington Cemetery to see the graves of a number of Confederate soldiers, including a member of the original 1st Tennessee Co B.

Cold and the Wet

2016-04-03T21:39:00.000-04:00

The season of wool and gunpowder opened with battalion drill. The 44th Tennessee, 1st Tennessee, and a consolidation of the 50th Virginia, 5th Virginia, and 19th Virginia met at Hartford City, Indiana to work out the rust of the winter.

I arrived at camp early Friday, finding our new 1st Sergeant, Jeff Carte, unloading some of his gear. We set up the fly and I started a campfire, reporting back to Capt Sharp to keep the beast from rearing for failing our duties.

Winds picked up and spurts of rain kept us running to the fly for cover. A few of us, including Capt Sharp, Pvt Compton, Cpl Cochran, and Pvt Myers decided to try to campaign while the rest of us set up tents. About three times through the night the campaigners had to move from the fire to under the fly to avoid the rain, returning when the drench passed. The third time, Pvt Compton moved to his car when the fly collapsed, dumping a bucket on him.

The temperature dropped to freezing, chilling me awake and keeping from a good sleep.

Well had roll call, then formed the battalion. The winds were high, but sky was clear, though cold. The companies went separate ways to drill, the 1st staying at the cabins behind a hill, while the other two companies went to the top of the hill into a high gale.

After lunch, the weather turned bad, so we relocated battalion drill to the gymnasium at the Indiana National Guard Armory. We drilled a number of maneuvers, but the space was limited. We did finally make it through the day of drill, breaking by mid-afternoon for the weekend.

The Last

2015-10-17T13:17:00.000-04:00

Hartford City IN

October 10-11, 2015

I arrived at Hartford City late, around 7 pm and set up my camp in the fair evening weather. With my camp set up, I changed into my major's uniform, including a new coat tailored by Jim Ruley, and headed to officers' call at headquarters where we discussed the scenarios for the weekend.

Saturday morning came early. Though I was warm in my farby military-surplus sleeping bag, the allergens in the air made the night a bit rough. I got up and cooked up some bacon and eggs and met for morning call.

We held morning parade at 9 am, then marched out for battle, which was to be the Battle of White Oak Road. The battle started with the 5th Kentucky (the one from Columbus Ohio) watching guard in the woods. The 5th KY and 1st Tennessee were the companies of my wing, and while 5th KY fought in the woods and was slowly pushed back, I held the 1st TN in reserve to cover the 5th's retreat.

Eventually we reformed as a complete wing and were pushed back further with a force of Yankees greater than ours. We were pushed back as far as we could go. We needed support, and we needed it quickly. I turned up the field and saw the right wing form up to prepare an advance, but they held fast. The artillery continued their firing, and I found that the right wing was waiting for a number of artillery rounds to fire before advancing.

When had reached our limit, the right wing began their advance and fired on the enemy. The Yankees about-faced and retreated. I took advantage of the retreat and pushed the wing. I halted early--the right wing hardly had a chance to join the fight, so I didn't want to steal all the glory, but the fight didn't last much longer. It was only moments later when the Yankees surrendered.

The rest of the day, until the afternoon battle went by with little incident.

The afternoon battle began at 4 pm, with the Battle of Five Forks scenario. We marched through the field into position to face the Yankees, but were quickly forced back. The Yankees sent a troop of cavalry around our flank, but I sent the 1st TN to repulse them. Unfortunately, the fight did not go well. We were forced back, but because we were being pushed on our flank as well our line degenerated into a semi-circle. As the commands to fall back were shouted, the 5th KY fell straight back, with tunnel-vision to keep from turning their backs on the enemy, not realizing they were not falling back with the battalion, but into the line of fire of the 1st Tennessee. Shouts from me and from Sgt Major David Julian could not get their attention. They were a big ball of muskets and soldiers out in isolation, nothing but confusion on their faces. I would have laughed had I not been so pissed.

They did finally fill the gap in the battalion line that awaited them, though I know not what finally got them motivated. I wonder if they would have backed all the way into the Union cavalry line, had it not been for mine and Sgt Major Julian's shouts.

We were pushed back into the artillery when we finally surrendered.

A group of us headed up to the front of the park and enjoyed the provided meal, then returned to camp to enjoy a quiet evening around the campfire, interrupted by the entire artillery force of both sides bombarding each other in the night.

Sunday morning we formed for dress parade at 10:30. We held the election for our adjutant, sergeant major, and ordinance sergeant, all of which were running unopposed. In order to discuss the order of business, we needed to form the companies close around. I ordered the 5th KY to right wheel to complete my wing of the formation--and immediately the left wheeled. I was so shocked by the obvious incorrect response that I glanced down to my arms and asked myself, "Did I give the correct command?" Let's see--right, left. Yeah I gave the correct command. What the hell were they doing?

With the help of Capt Steiner and their sergeant, the 5th KY backed up when I started shouted at them to get them back into position. But trying to get them back dressed on their 1st sergeant was like pulling the teeth out of a mule. The concept of a line was completely alien to them. Five times I shouted, "Dress on your sergeant!" before they finally grasped the concept. I was glad I didn't consider what I was going to face with them during the battle, with a simple wheel such a conundrum.

Once the election was over, I had Capt Steiner return his men back into battalion line, which fortunately went well.

For the weekend, the 1st Tennessee's 1st Sergeant was brevetted to lieutenant, since Capt Sharp could not attend due to other obligations. Since this was the last weekend that 1st Sergeant Kletzli would be serving in this role, we decided to leave a little parting gift for him.

Col Linkous ordered Kletzli front and center, and I ordered Sgt Carte to assign a guard detail to escort him. There, the colonel read the charges of impersonating an officer, along with other charges, whereupon he was further escorted to a firing line. I brought the 1st TN up and ordered the firing. I guess I brought them too close, as they elevated a bit and missed. I ordered again, and they missed again, so we released him.

After parade, Col Linkous and I met with the Federal commander and one of his officers to talk to Fall Creek Sutler. The man who ran the Hartford City event was retiring this year, having run the event for all of the past 26 years, and a collection had been raised to get him a parting gift. Enough funds had been raised to get the man a number of things.

The battle scenario was Appomattox . The colonel split the wings, having us form at different ends of the field. The colonel sent our flag bearer with our battalion colors (the first national) to me, while he kept a flag bearer with the St Andrew's Cross for the right wing.

The time to form came and I set the colors for the line. The 5th KY dressed, and then the 1st TN came forward. Lt Kletzli brought the men up at the right flank and dressed. The number of rifles for the 1st TN were small enough that I didn't realize they weren't fronted, but it didn't look right, and when I asked Kletzli to take his place in line, he informed me they were at the flank. I got a little abrupt with the lieutenant asking him what he was doing, and informed he that he knew what he supposed to do, telling him to fix it. Corporal Silvers expressed excessively extensive concern over Kletzli's behavior, so I took the lieutenant aside. He had just gotten some disturbing news that was distracting him, but when he told me he fine and would be good for battle, I considered the matter closed and had him return to his company.

The colonel wanted a synchronized advance. I moved my wing into position at the right flank to await the signal, and ordered "By companies into line" to bring us into a column of companies. I feel we don't see enough battalion-level maneuvers on the field during battle, so wanted to be at least a little fancy, though there were only two companies. Unfortunately, the 5th KY mistook the command to come into battalion line after going to company into line, so I had to quickly move redirect the 5th KY back behind the 1st TN, and halted the column. When the 5th KY dressed behind the 1st TN, they formed closed in mass, leaving no room to wheel, and I doubted they would be able to handle in mass maneuvers, so ordered the 1st TN 4 steps forward to give wheeling distance. I thought my command was clear that it was for the 1st TN only, but I had to rush around the 1st TN to keep the 5th KY from advancing.

In that position, we waited a few more minutes before the signal to advance came. Quickly after ordering forward, and commanded the wing forward into line, and the 5th KY maneuvered well into battle line. We advanced halfway across the field and waged against the Yankees.

As we fought, I saw a potential opportunity to flank the Yankees on their right. I assessed the situation, be careful not to separate us too much from the right wing, and decided that since the 5th KY was on our far end they would be best positioned to execute the flanking maneuver, and approached Capt Steiner to discuss the plan, and he expressed the same idea. Unfortunately, just as I was about to order the move, the Yankees must have been reading my lips, because they sent two companies to start flanking us, preventing us from taking the offensive.

We fell back and refused those two companies. As the right wing fell back, we continued to retreat, but our artillery was continuing their fire. We backed as far as we could, but the 5th KY informed me that the guns were still hot--and without markers for the safety zone, it appeared we were right at the edge of safety with those guns, so we held position, unable to fall back any further. I hoped the guns would cease their firing so we had a place to retreat to, but they kept on.

I had the 5th KY extend our line by forming a single rank, and the two Yankee companies split again to further attempt to flank us. Impatient, the 5th KY charged the company on our furthest flank. The company the 1st TN faced was about equal in size, so I could do nothing to support the 5th. Eventually, the 5th reformed to the 1st and the far Yankee company reformed to their wing.

I received a message from the colonel to reform to the right wing, and sent a response that I would do so as soon as it was convenient, as we were still engaged. I looked for an opportunity and sent the 1st TN alone to rejoin the battalion, while I had the 5th KY cover the withdrawal. Once the 1st was in position, I pulled the 5th KY at the double-quick. The battle was over quickly after.

We reformed our line across from the Yankee battalion and we watched surrender at Appomattox Courthouse.

Afterwards, we held a ceremony for Orville Uggen, the organizer for Hartford City, and presented him with the gifts we that the collection had purchased.

Article

Touching the Sacred Grounds

2015-10-05T16:29:00.002-04:00

Perryville, KY

October 3-4, 2015

The muck and mire from a week of rain threatened to swallow our vehicles whole as we arrived in Perryville for the weekend. The air provided a spitting mist that slowly soaked our very being. Golf carts were deployed to haul our gear from the parking lot to our camp.

The night was cold but having learned from the previous events of the year, I was prepared and comfortable, though I never did fully dry in my A.

Morning came and I realized I had forgotten my plate as I prepared my breakfast of bacon and eggs. Battalion drill was originally scheduled for nine, but the rain forced cancellation.

Capt Sharp held a staff meeting where we took the time to discuss how we could work further to improve the unit.

Rations were issued and cooked, which included bacon, ham, and beans, providing a fulfilling meal.

Although the threat of rain haunted us the entire day, the sky only stayed darkly overcast, with a few seconds of occasional spitting.

We formed for battle, with various maneuvering drills performed on the way to the battlefield. Once at the battlefield, we entered battle marching through the artillery and pushed against the Yankees.

Afterward Capt Sharp took us to the goat barn, an area of the battlefield that the park had recently acquired. The area was where the original 1st Tennessee had fought and were stopped, many of whom buried on those grounds where they fell. We were the first reenactors in 150 years to have ever set foot on those sacred grounds. Capt Sharp took us through the hills and gullies where the soldiers fought.

That night I gathered myself into my sleeping bag and tried to light my candle. It would fizzle for awhile and go out, wet from the heavy, saturated air. It took several tries before I was finally able to get light.

Sunday opened to sun and warmth. After breakfast, we formed up and read letters giving biographies on each of the original soldiers from Company D of the 1st Tennessee.

For the afternoon battle, we again formed up and drilled on the way to the battlefield. The 1st pushed toward the guns, and we eventually overwhelmed the Yankees.

The Curse of the Captain's Coat

2015-08-10T13:16:00.003-04:00

Hale Farm

Bath Ohio

August 8-9, 2015

Courtesy Brittany Wellman

Heavy rains accompanied every event where Capt Sharp's new officer's frock was present, including Spring Drill, Sharon Woods, and Ohio Village. This coincidental harrowing weather left the company to believe that the coat was cursed. The men offered to donate the cost of the coat if the rains returned for Hale Farm, so that it could be burned in the campfire.

The captain brevetted me to lieutenant for the weekend as we gathered at Hale Farm and Village in Bath Ohio. 1st Sgt Kletzli was unable to attend due to injury, leaving Sgt Jeff Carte to take his place. I arrived to see Sgt Carte setting the camp, along with Pvt Jon Farrelly.

Trisha Carte identified a perfect location for our campfire--a group of dead stumps. Pvt Farrelly started to dig a bit of a pit when he noticed a some yellow jackets flying around. Before he knew it, an entire swarm was gathering around and some started to sting.

As the rest of us received stings, except for Sgt Carte who had stepped away, we realized that the only way we would get a campfire was to spray down the now-exposed ground next with bug spray, after the nest settled enough for us to get close.

Courtesy Brittany Wellman

Once sprayed down and fire blazing on the nest, the rest of the company arrived, giving us about 15 rifles for Saturday.

I slept on the ground in my A, and late into the night the air grew cold, making it difficult to sleep without getting a chill.

Saturday held a tight, though dynamic schedule. We formed for parade with Medich Battalion, aligning as fourth company, after which we broke to shortly reform for battle, but the battle was delayed.

After the morning battle, we marched out for the cavalry demonstration, where we would form a square and defend against cavalry. We marched out to the field, only to learn the cavalry had unsaddled their horses and tied them up to cool, so we marched back to camp.

Rations were issued and we scrambled to get lunch together, saving the rations for Sunday and gathering food we brought, for we had less than an hour to form for the afternoon battle.

The sun disappeared to an overcast day, and reports of a thunderstorm in Toledo gave us fear that the curse of the Captain's coat was upon us. The battle progressed, and we were pushed back. We lost half our company and Capt. Sharp took a hit, leaving me in charge. We fell back to a fence line, and the 1st TN survivors got split up as we found positions along the fence to defend ourselves. There wasn't much for me to do other than run to each of the spread out men and ensure they kept firing. It wasn't long and the Union cavalry flanked us to the rear, completely surrounding our forces, leaving us no choice but to surrender. All that remained of the 1st TN at this point was Chad Cochran, brevetted to corporal for the weekend, and I. We were taken prisoner and escorted off the field, where I turned to Cpl Cochran and told him, "We are the fourth company."

The rains held off, at least, so there was promise that the curse of the Captain's coat might have lost some of its power.

Before we broke back to camps, the Sgt Major asked for volunteers for night guard watch. Bvt Cpl Andy Enyart volunteered for the 4 to 6 am shift.

For supper, our ladies cooked up an excellent meal.

Later, Lt. Col. Greg Van Wey gathered Medich Battalion together for a "Town Hall" meeting. There, Capt Sharp told about the 2016 Perryville event to garner interest, but then we had to leave for a meeting with the Ohio Village Yankee commanders to discuss a bit for an after-action report and plans for the 2016 Ohio Village.

Courtesy Hale Farm and Village

I crashed a little early, lying down in my tent with my legs still sticking out, waking hours later in the dark of night, unable to get warm. After struggling to warm up for an hour, I relocated my gum and wool blankets next to the campfire.

The Sunday schedule was immediately blown with reveille coming a half hour later than originally scheduled.

1st Sergeant's call came at 7 am at the Sgt Major's call. Upon Sgt Carte's return, he immediately called first call. Most of the 1st Tennessee was still asleep, so we struggled to get everyone up and awake and geared-up.

Someone got the weather report and it looked like there would be rain in the afternoon, about the time of the battle. We feared that the curse of the Captain's coat might still hold, and discussed the plans for burning the coat.

We marched out to a ceremony for Col Nick Medich. This was his last event as the leader of Medich Battalion as command was transferred to Col Greg Van Wey. The Yankee brigade joined the ceremony as all of us passed in review.

We returned to camp and given a short break, then reformed to present the Appomattox surrender scenario. We waited--apparently the Yankees were on a different schedule--then marched out and waited some more. And then we were marched back to camp.

Finally our schedule synced up with the Yankees and we marched up to the Hale House and made our surrender, dropping our packs and weapons, and signing and returning home.

Courtesy Hale Farm and Village

We had about an hour break before we had to reform for battle, though we had a bit more waiting as our schedule seemed a bit off again.

We were marched to the far side of the battlefield to advance down upon the Yankee formations. After a fashion, the Yankees pushed us back, and the numbers of the 1st Tennessee steadily declined.

Capt. Sharp took a hit, and Sgt Carte announced, "Captain down," telling me that I was now in command. I checked on the captain, since the battalion was not moving at the moment, then took the captain's position.

We were pushed back further. Capt Sharp struggled up and wandered the field like a dazed and confused injured soldier, going down upon a volley from the Yankees. Sgt Carte told me, "He likes to be such an actor."

We were pushed back to the fence, before we finally finished the battle. We then returned to camp, where we were released.

And with that, not a drop of rain touching us, the curse of the Captain's coat was broken.

Slow Days

2015-07-27T07:39:00.001-04:00

Greenville, OH

July 25-26, 2015

The Gathering at Garst in Greenville looked to be a rather relaxed event. Capt Sharp couldn't attend due to a business conflict, and Sgt Kletzli had medical issues that kept him away. Since this event was not part of the max-effort list of the 1st Tennessee and I had been part of getting the 1st TN at this event every year for the past 4, Capt Sharp brevetted me to Lieutenant for the weekend.

Friday evening we set up camp and I dug the fire pit, while Jeff and Trish Carte and Jon and Kiesha Farrelly set up their tents.

The night was clear and cool, and in the morning I cooked some bacon and eggs. Hank, the blacksmith and one of the event coordinators, brought in some donuts for us and supplied us with ice.

Chris Silvers arrived and set up his shelter.

Public came into the park in a slow trickle. After awhile, Gary Evens, former captain of the 1st Tennessee, showed up in a period civilian outfit and helped us with our living history demonstrations.

The 19th Indiana Light Artillery was there along with the Rev War group the Mad River Light Artillery, and they fired their cannons every hour.

I led the four rifles in short skirmish drills three times, ending with a series of manual of arms, and stepping Cpl Silvers in loading in nine times per the Hardee's School of the Soldier.

We flew our Polk-pattern flag, and I was surprised at how it opened many conversations. I was also surprised at how Rebel-friendly the people of Greenville seemed to be. Many expressed their gratitude for our appearance.

It was a warm night, but I slept well. Chris Silvers complained of being assaulted by a brigade of mosquitoes, though.

In the morning I had more bacon and eggs, and donuts were provided, but the day held only the Farrellys, Carte's, Chris Silvers, and I. Spectator turnout seemed low, so we were able to keep up. Having only three rifles, I joined the ranks as a private with my musket during the one skirmish drill we held, but again narrated Chris Silvers performing load in nine times.

With the low numbers of spectators we had a lot of time for Euchre, so Chris determined that we try to break the record for number of games in a single day. We only reached eight games.

It was a relaxed weekend, but we provided good education to the public, and possibly gained a recruit or two.

The Surrender

2015-07-12T23:01:00.000-04:00

Sharon Woods Heritage Village

Sharonville, Ohio

July 11-12, 2015

Courtesy David Burns

Saturday morning at Sharon Woods was quiet. I didn't feel like much for breakfast, so had a couple of slices of the banana nut bread and coffee the organizers offered. The coffee wasn't my four-cups-in-one, but it was passable, and the bread was satisfying.

As we prepared for the day, Pvt Chris Wellman, a relatively new recruit for the 1st Tennessee, needed to borrow a musket. His musket had become non-functional with a problem with his mainspring, so I loaned him Christine, my musket. Capt Sharp, in returned, placed me as flag-bearer.

This event was solemn. For the first time in its over 20 year history, the 1st Tennessee would be surrendering. The event was using Appomattox as the scenario.

Since we represent a western-theater company, our 1st Tennessee, which was part of Maney's brigade, was not at Appomattox. But Turney's brigade was, and there was a second 1st Tennessee that was part of Turney's, so we bore the flag of the Army of Northern Virginia, the St Andrew's Cross and Confederate Battle flag, instead of our flag, which was the Polk pattern flag.

We formed for parade, and Capt. Sharp gave the announcements. The battle plan laid out, we were ready for fighting a skirmish we were to lose.

We were a battalion of three companies. As flag bearer, I was attached to the 9th Kentucky, which was second company. A consolidated company consisting mostly of the 13th Virginia was first company, and the 1st Tennessee was third company.

The 9th Kentucky started the fight as soon as a couple of Yankee scouts made an appearance, forming a skirmish line just outside the picket fence marking the edge of the battlefield.

We fought a hard battle, pushing the Yankees in skirmish, then pushed back to defeat.

We recovered our dead and wounded and marched off, awaiting for the results of General Lee's parley with General Grant.

Since the flag I bore belonged to Andy Enyart, I switched roles with him--he bearing the flag while I took his musket.

After a time, we marched back to the train depot. Capt Sharp opened our ranks and had us ground arms. Each company carried their own flags, and trailed them through the ranks. Emotions were high. This marked the epitome of what we reenacted.

The flags were brought to the front, and Capt Sharp ordered them furled, presented to the Yankees.

That evening held a dinner of barbecue chicken and pork.

Sunday morning introduced us to a deluge. Rain flooded the camps starting around 5 am and proceeding through the seven o'clock hour. Many of the tents were flooded inside and out.

I was among the lucky. Instead of setting up a tent, I chose to sleep on the back porch of one of the homes. It was well sheltered from the rain, and all my gear remained dry.

Due to the drenching rain, many of the reenactors left before the gates opened to the public.

A good number stayed, however, but there were insufficient numbers to hold a battle, so we presented a living history.

Among the scenarios that remained included Lee's surrender. The event coordinator needed someone to portray Col. Marshall and Sgt Tucker, who were part of the surrender. Capt Sharp asked me if I would portray Col Marshall, and gave me his coat, while Sgt Kletzli portrayed Tucker.

A narrator spoke through the script, and we, with Generals Lee and Grant walked into the home to give the impression of the signing of the surrender. I felt a bit of emotion to go through this, even participating in a little period small-talk with the Lee impressionist.

The event was a good experience, one that enlightened us to this time of turmoil.

The Copperhead Invasion

2015-06-29T20:57:00.001-04:00

Ohio Village

Columbus, OH

June 27-28, 2015

I arrived Friday to Ohio Village and carried in my gear. After Red River, I decided to travel light, although this weekend that proved to be not so good an idea. No tent, no shelter--just a ground cloth, poncho, and wool blanket to sleep in. My knapsack carried all my supplies for the weekend.

The temperature was dropping and rain saturated the ground. I was able to keep somewhat dry through the night, but was not comfortable with the soggy ground stealing my heat.

Morning came and I collected morning reports. With the 1st Tennessee were the 27th Virginia that were from PACS, the 44th Tennessee from Indiana that are part of the Independent Guard Battalion, the 13th Virginia, the 6th Kentucky, and the Confederate Marines. The 13th VA and 6th KY were small enough that they consolidated as one for battalion maneuvers. We also expected the 5th Texas from Medich Battalion, but only two of them arrived for Saturday only, so we consolidated them with the 27th VA. We also expected Lt Col Greg Van Wey of Medich battalion, who was to command our left wing, but due to a family emergency was unable to come. I had looked forward to seeing him to share stories of Red River with him, but the stories will have to wait. His absence left me to command the left wing. Col Danny Linkous commanded right wing, while J.R. Sharp, as overall Confederate commander, commanded the provisional battalion.

At 10 a.m., we formed the battalion and marched them into town. The Yankee battalion joined us as we held a memorial service for one of our own reenactors--a member of the 6th KY. Once the service was over and the Yankees returned to camp, we held the village, setting pickets at each entrance. We placed the pickets on 30 minute shifts, and I requested Cpl Silvers of the 1st TN to serve as Corporal of the Guard, to help me with managing the shifts. As each shift formed, I gave some basic instruction to the pickets, including the countersign of "Fredericksburg". The Yankees were given the countersign--the pickets were more for show for the spectators--and we didn't want to prohibit access and enjoyment of the town to anyone. We only asked that the Yankees remove their blouses before entering town, though they did also have to give us the countersign. The Yankees would have the village Sunday, and we would give them the same courtesy.

The day progressed and I kept busy with preparing each shift practically upon deploying the previous shift. At 12:30 pm, I had Cpl Silvers relieve the last shift with no replacements so that we could form and be ready for the battle at 1.

The entire southern side of town was active for the battle. My wing took the road to the east, pushing quickly out, then wheeling near perpendicular to the road to hit the advancing Yankees. This gave us the advantage of being able to hit them early, but when the Yankees pushed, it put us in an awkward position to fall back toward the town. I could have done a reverse wheel, but that to me is just plain awkward, so instead I right-flanked them, then ordered, "on the right by file into line", followed by a right wheel, which put the wing across the road into good position to fight. Unfortunately, the moves needed to happen too quickly, so I had to order the right wheel before the the on the right by file into line was complete. It was a bit convoluted because of this, but we got into position. Afterward, I realized that first performing a by file right (instead of the on the right by file into line), then the on the right by file into line would have been less awkward and accomplished the same thing, though I would have had to start the on the right by file into line as soon as the first file turned for the by file right command.

The Yankees pushed us hard back into the village, and we fell back as they pushed, careful not to give too much ground, trying to keep even with the rest of the battalion as they faced their opponents. Once the Yankees reach the main boardwalk, we held fast, and when they started to falter, we began a hard push out. The Yankees on my wing were stubborn, however. Left wing had to fight hard for every inch, while right wing was handed ground easily. I pushed as much as I could, but it felt I could only inch my men forward. As we passed the meeting hall, the last building to our right, Col Sharp shouted to us to push and not stop. I looked about and could see right wing on the far end of the battlefield, capturing the bridge--too far away to offer any support to us. All I needed was a single company volley on the Yankee flank, and we could break them, but my wing was on our own. Finally, the Yankee wing fell back more than 20 yards at once, and I charged my wing forward at the double-quick to take everything they gave us at that instant, having the wing ready to fire before the Yankees could regroup. It was not long after that, and we won the day.

Dead and wounded lay all about around the village. I saw one portly short Yankee laying on the ground that I remembered from two weeks ago and tried to come up with a good quip for him, but my weary body stole the brain power from me, so I let him lay. I saw several soldiers, some wounded, standing about doing nothing, so requested their assistance in carrying the dead and wounded over to Doc's tent, so that they could be dealt with. I had the Yankees that were hovering about handle their own, while any free Confederate I assigned to handle the dead and wounded of ours.

We assigned one more shift of pickets, then steadily withdrew from the village to our camps.

Evening meal was provided to us in the town, where we witnessed a wedding party gather at the church.

The temperature dropped to uncomfortably cold, with the sky spitting at us and occasionally flushing down.

Perhaps it was wimping out, but having no tent to shelter me from the cold, wind, and rain, I chose to spend the night in my car.

Who would have thought that the end of June in Ohio would require great coats?

I awoke to daylight after a reasonable rest, ready for action.

We held morning parade at ten a.m., then broke until battle time.

They Yankees held the village today, but the public would not be entering until noon, so many of us were not ready when overly-anxious Yankee pickets stopped us around 11 am. Fortunately the countersign was publicly known as "Franklin", so there was no trouble, though. Sgt Major Dave Julian told me of one picket being confused to how he so readily knew the countersign, which is particularly funny since the countersigns for both days were chosen Friday and made publicly available to all reenactors--their sole purpose was to aid in the immersion show for the spectators.

I took the long morning to visit with Jim Ruley, who took measurements for a coat I was going to have him make for me. He did such a good job with Capt Sharp's coat, and I had been considering a new frock for some time, I thought it time to talk to him.

I was given word that there were a number of period-civilian activities during the day, but since the Yankees held the town, I was not aware what they were.

Courtesy Joe Patchen

We formed for battle, then sent the Confederate Marines into skirmish against a skirmish line of Yankees. After a small show, I brought left wing up to offer support and push the Yankee line back into the town.

As we pushed forward, we pushed hard down the street on the left. The Yankee skirmishers retreated down the center, between two buildings. The 44th Tennessee came up behind us and pushed in the center, while we pushed on the left into the town. The 1st Tennessee pushed on the right flank into town. My wing included the Confederate Marines, the 27th Virginia, and the 6th Kentucky. The 13th Virginia carried their colors (an ANV Confederate Battle Flag) as color company so was not with my wing like yesterday.

Entering the town, we faced an artillery piece down the other end of the street, so did not hang around long, shifting to rejoin the rest of the battalion in the center. We fought heavily for a time, but we were outnumbered, and the Yankees soon pushed back. We slowly fell back, then rushed back between the buildings. The Yankees pushed hard, and my wing was divided from the right by the town meeting house. Our numbers steadily dropped, and two Yankee companies were quickly upon us. Although three companies were on my wing, their numbers were small, about eight rifles in each. We were quickly being overwhelmed, but just as I was to be overrun, Col Sharp brought the 44th Tennessee to reinforce us. We were able to hold our ground longer, but the Yankee artillery moved their gun into position to hit us.

We fell back further, ducking at the artillery fire, but when a third company joined the fight on us, we could no longer stand against the overwhelming forces. Our men routed, and the battle was lost.

The Reformatory and the Civil War

2015-06-21T12:27:00.001-04:00

The Ohio State Reformatory

Mansfield, OH

June 20, 2015

Still recovering from Red River, my apartment looking like a reenactor exploded, I rode with Capt. J.R. Sharp and his family to the one-day event at the Ohio State Reformatory in Mansfield, Ohio.

We arrived at the 1st Tennessee camp to a light rain. Sgt Kevin Harris of the 1st Ohio Light Artillery, Battery A came to us and discussed a need for a few volunteers to assist with the noon firing from their howitzer, so I, along with Private Rick Compton and Private Darren Myers stepped forward to participate in the experience. Private Compton held position number 2, the worm, and Private Myers was number 4, the one to fire the piece. I took position number 3, in charge of the vent and prick.

Sgt Harris took us through the drill, giving Pvt Myers a primer of questionable quality and a lanyard with a string that was a bit elastic. We went through the drill, not actually loading the piece, through Pvt Myers inserting the primer in the vent.

When the command, "Fire" was given, Pvt Myers pulled on the lanyard, and nothing happened. He failed to give enough force to trigger the primer. He tried again, and the elasticity of the string was such that he had a rather difficult time giving enough force to trigger the primer. A third pull, and the primer fired.

We ran through the drill a couple more times, and now satisfied, Sgt Harris dismissed us until the noon firing.

When the noon hour approached, we reformed at the howitzer, and ran through the drill once more. Then, we loaded and fired the piece for real. A second time, this time Sgt Harris approached the spectators and described each step of the process, with us following the process as he commanded, and we fired again. Finally, we ran through the process one last time and fired.

We held various living history vignettes throughout the grounds and in the reformatory construct. At three, the howitzer was fired again, this time using a Yankee crew.

Supper was served, featuring lasagna, with plenty to fill us, after which we set up several new vignettes of living history throughout the inside of the reformatory for a series of spectators to come through and witness. We presented a typical life in camp, playing cards, having lice races, and having Capt. Sharp's son come through, as if he were seeking his father, one Robert Hamilton of the original 1st Tennessee.

The evening ended late, with us forming on the hill in the dark, assaulting the howitzer and three or so Yankees. We fired upon them in a skirmish line, while they and the piece fired back, neither of us able to see the other, save for the muzzle flashes. We continued, occasionally double-loading, until we received the report that the Yankees were out of ammunition. We then formed as a battalion with the artillery piece and Yankees, and fired three volleys, concluding the evening.

The Campaign

2015-06-18T23:04:00.001-04:00

Red River 3

Washington, Arkansas

June 6-13, 2015

Courtesy Kristoff Schnee

The 7th Corps, 77th Ohio Regiment, arrived in Washington City, Arkansas, June 7, 1864, gathering ourselves for the Rebel forces on the hunt for us. We were in enemy territory, the day was hot, and the supply wagons were late.

Most of the command staff was lost due to various reasons, including medical, duty reassignment, and even death, leaving only Col. Robert Minton, Capt. Dan Schoun, Maj. Trevor Steinbach and myself on command.

We visited the local tavern and enjoyed a wonderful meal from the friendly townsfolk.

Col. Minton was a short man, but commanding in nature. He led with an attitude of cooperation, and not dictatorship--presuming that all branches were prepared to work together to route the enemy. Already stressed from the loss of staff, he prepared us for the additional duties we would need to perform to fill the needs of the army.

Courtesy Mary Bellow

Capt. Schoun, a tall, lanky man, but powerful and determined upon need, and originally assigned as quartermaster general,
would also fulfill the role of chief of staff. I found him a man who paid extreme attention to details--to a degree that was rare to be found, although at times he could volunteer details in conversation that could require a bit of patience to endure. He is a man I think highly of.

Major "Doc" Steinbach was the extent of our medical staff, without whom the regiment would not have survived. He set up his permanent camp in Washington near our headquarters with many medical provisions which he provided at his own cost. I am certain Capt Schoun submitted recompense requests up the chain of command, but in all likelihood, Maj. Steinbach will never see a penny of compensation.

As for myself, I served as Provost, rank of Lieutenant, and would fulfill any remaining needs. For those unfamiliar with the duties of Provost, I was normally responsible for the rear guard when the column was on the march, and responsible for both the outer pickets that watched for the enemy when we camped and any inner sentries that were needed, as well as any security required. I would also act as liaison for any civilians we encountered. Due to the regiment's reduced numbers, both the inner sentries and civilian liaison proved unnecessary (though there were a few minor issues I was involved with), which more readily freed me for supporting of the other needs of the regiment.

We also had one private with us at HQ, Bruce Grashel. He was an elderly man who did much to give a hand where needed.

The regiment had two artillery pieces led by Capt Angelo Piazza, whom we quickly nicknamed, "Firecracker". It seemed Firecracker likes to blow things up whether it be rounds from the cannon, or tree stumps blocking the path.

In charge of the cavalry was Col. Mike Church, who held a strong concern over his horses and a love for a good fight.

Maj. Dominic Dal Bello commanded the infantry, companies C and H of the 77th Ohio. Being an infantry man myself, I was most observant of the details of the infantry. Lt Shawn Mayless was the battalion adjutant, Company H was commanded by Capt. Simon Taylor, and Capt. Ted Parrott commanded Company C.

Maj. Dal Bello was a scholarly man, having written several military books, including a school of the battalion and a book for pickets and guards. Having been only recently promoted to Provost myself, I possessed a copy of his book on pickets that I studied in preparation for my position.

We also had a team of pioneers, led by Capt Jim Trent. Capt Trent talked with a thick southern accent, perhaps from Kentucky, and held great designs and ambitions, perhaps beyond that which our meager resources would allow.

Finally, we had two supply wagons to provide water and resources for the command staff, infantry and pioneers. The artillery had several teams of mules to transport their supplies, caissons, and guns. Being an infantry man, I did not pay close enough attention to detail the numbers, though I believe there were three teams.

Our first day's camp was some distance from the village of Washington. We were to start here in our departure from the Rebel forces who were pushing us. I was dropped off about a quarter mile from our intended camp with all headquarters gear and Doc while Col Minton and Capt Schoun attended to other duties. One infantry company had already arrived (I believe it was company C, though I may be mistaken) and was awaiting orders as to where to camp. When we had scouted the location earlier in the day, I placed my Harrison & Gondie folding chair to mark the path that forked from the road, and instructed the company to follow that path. I then proceeded, with some assistance from Doc, to haul the HQ gear to our camp and fly the regimental flag to mark headquarters.

With four packs and various gear, I wore out before I could really work on hauling the boxes, but was eventually able to get, with Doc's assistance, three of the boxes to camp. I don't remember how the fourth box made its way in, but it did somehow get there.

The artillery arrived somewhat after the first infantry company, setting camp in a small clearing in the wooded area by a pond supposedly infested with alligators. About an hour later the second infantry company arrived and bivouacked next to the first company. The cavalry and pioneers would not be arriving as the cavalry remained in advance at Washington City, while the pioneers camped at a creek crossing to build a bridge for our wagons to cross.

Dusk fell upon us and I was wiped out. The Arkansas wilderness was hot and my energy gone. I stretched my ground cloth near a pine and underneath a tiny sassafras sapling that was more visual distraction than shade. My weary body crashed there until the colonel and Capt Schoun arrived in the dark of night.

Courtesy Simon Taylor

Doc had a fly that he was prepared to set up, but the sky was clear and no sign of rain appeared imminent, so he laid it flat where he and Capt Schoun could sleep upon it. Unfortunately, Doc lay perpendicular to me, with his head a mere foot from mine. Throughout the night, a sound of lumberjacks with large saws milling their way through a forest would occasion itself upon my ears. I found that with slight manipulation of that little sassafras sapling I could put a sudden halt to the cacophony.

When morning arrived and reveille sounded, Doc complained of that little tree. I held my tongue.

We began the morning march early in an attempt to avoid the heat. We stashed the HQ gear on the infantry wagon and I took position with the rear guard, the artillery in front of us. Throughout the couple of miles of our march we could hear the occasional sound of Rebel wagons not far from us. We eventually arrived at a farm inhabited by a pleasant little old Arkansas lady who was most helpful to us. We were able to refill our canteens from her well. Firecracker set up guns per the colonel's orders in ambush for the Rebels that chased us on the corner of her field.

Unfortunately, Firecracker was a little anxious and fired the cannons before the Confederate forces were in sight, destroying any chance of surprise we possessed.

Courtesy Mary Bellow

We marched on, finding a field well suited for battle. The infantry marched to the far side of it, with all wagons following, all finding shade to wait under. The cavalry soon entered the field as well, awaiting for the opportunity catch the Rebels off their guard and win the day.

But as time passed, we soon found we did not have the landowner's permission to hold a battle at this location. So we gathered up and moved on.

Along the way we passed a large chicken farm, and I watched as a couple of soldiers from the infantry fell out and ran to the house at the corner of the property. Being Provost, I was particularly concerned that they might be causing trouble, but I also trusted that these Union men were gentlemen, and would not create a situation where I would need be involved. After entering the house, they soon made their way to the chicken house, exiting with a hen by its legs. Rage started welling up within me that they were stealing this hen, but when I heard them shout, "Thank you" to the landowner at the house, I realized they had permission, presumably purchasing the hen.

I'm not too certain what happened with that hen thereafter, other than a string was tied to one of its legs to keep it running off. But we soon engaged the enemy with that chicken in tow, and though it survived the battle, I don't believe it fared too well. It was fortunate the men had prepared to consume it that evening.

As we approached the planned location for that evening's camp, the Confederate forces engaged the rear guard. I double-quicked to catch up with the rest of the infantry battalion. The cavalry and artillery set up defenses in the field where we were to camp, while the infantry set an anchor point on the road to guide the Rebels into the trap. I approached Maj. Dal Bello and asked if he wanted the rear guard recalled. When he nodded the affirmative, he departed to retrieve his bugler to sound the recall, but I was anxious in what seemed a deterministic moment so shouted the recall down the road myself to the rear guard. When the major returned with his bugler, the rear guard was already

Courtesy Gavin Dawson

prepared to rejoin the battalion.

I stayed with the rear guard as well fell back past the entrance to the field where the artillery and cavalry awaited to set the trap. The rest of the infantry stood fast at the crossroad to our left, and the field was to our right. Our position was a bit precarious because if the Rebel force was able to overrun us, past the main forces, the could potentially slip into the field to the rear of the cavalry and disrupt the trap. Our numbers were insufficient to stop a single company, but the main infantry force was able to draw enough attention to keep the Rebels from advancing too far. The trapped worked perfectly--the Confederate cavalry saw forces in the field and like cowboys in a rodeo fair, charged in with guns blazing, facing our Federal cavalry and artillery on all sides in an instant. Our cavalry quickly captured the entire Confederate cavalry, leaving the infantry forces fighting to a stalemate.

A quick parley with the Confederate forces allowed them to retreat to avoid an indefinite ending to the infantry fight, and we set camp in the field, known as "Moonshine Cemetery". Headquarters was set in the northeast corner exit, with the infantry set along a short road on the west side of the field. Cavalry scatter their camp all over the edges of the field and the into another field directly south. The artillery also set camp in the field somewhere, but being an infantry man, I failed to notice where their camp was.

An issue with water quickly revealed itself. A large supply of water was left for drinking by the soldiers, but it was by far insufficient to supply water for horses, nor was it intended to be for horses. For the horses, a well was available, but apparently there was a problem with the pump, as no water presented itself.

Courtesy Brian Andrew Barton

A couple troopers, rightfully concerned for their horses, started filling buckets from the tank provided for soldiers, risking leaving the soldiers thirsty for tomorrow's march. Fortunately Capt Schoun was handy to stop them and preserve the water supply. He reported to Col Church to resolve the issue, who agreed with Capt Schoun, but insisted on rapid resolution of the water issue for the horses.

Fortunately we soon obtained assistance from a local and a separate valve was opened to allow the well water to flow for the horses.

Almost immediately, however, another issue became apparent as there was an insufficient supply of hay for the horses provided from the advance supply train. The local resident was kind enough to make up the difference, though, in short order.

Rations were distributed and included something called "Tasso", a rather tasty spiced pork. The quantity of rations were rather excessive, considering our weariness. I was the only one of HQ with some spare time, but was too exhausted to be concerned with a camp fire for supper, choosing instead to sleep for an hour or so.

The artillery discussed with the colonel about when they should depart for the bridge the pioneers were constructing. The colonel was only concerned that they leave ahead of the infantry, by 5 am the next morning. They chose to leave immediately and set camp a short distance from the pioneers.

Private Bruce put together a fire and fried some bacon and potatoes. He offered what he fried up to the rest of us and I ate a portion of it--no one else was hungry for the bacon and potatoes, though they did eat some of the Tasso.

A courier finally arrived with messages from the pioneers. In waiting for a courier, Capt Trent

Courtesy Brian Andrew Barton

stacked his messages intended for the colonel. The first requested I think 8 men for assistance, the second a team of mules, and the third stating little progress had been made. Due to the critical nature of the bridge, the colonel debated whether to immediately ride on our main supply wagon to the crossing to check the progress himself, or walk the 3 mile trek himself in the morning, an hour and a half before the infantry departure. Reluctant to leave the infantry without water, he chose the latter, departing at 5 am with a cavalry escort.

The night was rather quiet, except for a gunshot at 1 am that ruffled the feathers of the pickets. I heard a call for the corporal of the guard and a bugle call to arouse him. I checked in with a picket posted near headquarters, and all seemed normal. There was no further activity.

Reveille sounded at 5 am and the colonel quickly departed, Capt Schoun volunteering to pack the colonel's gear onto the wagon. We had planned to step off at 6:30 am, but Capt Schoun was concerned there would be a delay so put some pressure on the infantry to move, and we were able to step off ten minutes early. It was a forced march. We needed to get to the bridge site quickly to provide any needed assistance in finishing construction before the Rebel forces were upon us.

Courtesy Brian Andrew Barton

About a half hour into the march we climbed a lengthy hill. At one point I was walking backwards to check on the rear guard and for any Confederates that might be closing in on us, and stepped on a copperhead that had been run over by a wagon, and was still alive. Fortunately, I think it was in too much shock to strike, though I probably would have had good protection from my boots. The supply wagon still needed to pass by, so I grabbed a stick and pushed the snake into the woods at the side of the road, though by this time I believe the snake had expired.

The hill was too much for two soldiers with their packs, and they straggled back. Doc took care of one, and I believe he was able to finish the march up the hill. I took the other's pack and after a moment we were able to also continue up the hill. At the top of the hill, the battalion rested, refilling canteens and recovering from the challenging hill. I put the soldier's pack I was carrying onto the supply wagon.

Courtesy Gavin Dawson

At first we presumed we would need to hold this position and engage any rebels, to give the pioneers time to finish the bridge, but soon we were given word from a courier to advance. Several more stops and starts and we eventually reached the bridge. The rear guard joined the skirmish line with one company to hold back the Rebels should they come upon us, while the rest of the battalion helped with finishing the bridge. The artillery crew was already there tossing logs into the ditch.

Beside the trail were a couple of 2 foot wide pine trunks the pioneers had cut down to use as support beams. The trunks were too large for even a mule team to drag across the creek. Since time was out, they resorted to simply filling the three foot ditch with smaller logs. The colonel had been chopping trees with the artillery and pioneers since he arrived that morning.

Courtesy Gavin Dawson

The size of the finished bridge I saw was perhaps ten feet long, and almost precisely the width of the wagons. The first three wagons, which included the artillery made it across without too much difficulty. The mules and horses were unhitched and forded across, while a team of men pushed the wagon on a very specific track across the bridge. Slipping from the track by as much as a few inches meant the wagon would fall off.

The fourth wagon--the infantry supply wagon--was unhitched. We drained as much water as we could, filling all canteens, and started across. Soon, it slipped from the track, causing the left rear wheel to fall into the ditch. The wagon was now stuck, a tree stump blocking the front left wheel, preventing even a mule team from being able to pull it out.

Some digging and Firecracker set a charge. Sand blew into the air, but the stump held. More digging, and another charge set, blowing the stump high. With a mule team hitched, the wagon was quickly pulled clear.

Courtesy Gavin Dawson

On the other side, we moved the wagons up the trail, ready to continue on. Firecracker handed Capt Trent a pretty large set of charges to place them within the bridge. With all of us safe and ready to push on, Capt. Trent lit the charge and rushed to safety.

As the fuse burned down, a couple of Confederate cavalry troopers suddenly came charging down the hill--right toward the bridge and the explosive charge. Firecracker stepped forward and frantically started waving off the troopers, attempting to warn of the pending explosion. They stopped in time, perhaps a mere 20 yards from the bridge when it blew, creating a thick cloud blocking the view.

Courtesy Gavin Dawson

As the smoke cleared, we could see the entire Confederate cavalry setting up a line of attack. The infantry quickly rushed to recover from the awe of the explosion, and set up defenses to retreat from down the trail. One trooper attempted to flank to our rear, and I quickly found myself in the middle of the action, but he was quickly overwhelmed by an entire platoon of muskets pummeling him.

As we pulled back, the infantry spreading to a skirmish line through the woods, I believe the Confederate infantry also joined the battle, though it was difficult for me to see from the sloping of the hill and the fact that I was struggling to stay out of the middle of the fight, having only my six-shooter Remington for defense.

Courtesy Gavin Dawson

The fight was intense. We backed up to the top of the hill, and we tried to disengage. Our water supply was pretty depleted from the hard morning's work, but the Rebels kept pushing. Company H was able to pull out while Company C held ground. The fighting finally stopped, but Company C was at a stand-off with the Confederate Cavalry. They insisted on pushing forward, but Company C held. With the rest of the battalion and all wagons now moved off, there was no support for Company C. I rushed down the lane to see if support could be obtained, and came across the battalion adjutant, who informed me the order is to fall back. I quickly returned and instructed the Captain as such. He was very reluctant, but finally submitted and fell back. The Confederates were kind enough to cease their push, allowing us time to tend to our wounded, before vacating the area.

All wagons rushed to our camp in Washington City, including the infantry supply wagon, which had run out of water, leaving only the command staff and the infantry battalion in the woods, probably less than a mile from camp. The Confederate forces were near.

We were running out of water, having an insufficient supply to complete the journey to camp. The heat was unbearable. Col Minton scouted ahead a little and took the path that forked, hoping to find something that could take care of his troops.

He found a nearby farmer that was more than willing to supply water for the men. We took a short break, then trudged on to camp. To our surprise, the farm was right at the edge of Washington. We had no idea how close we were to the village.

Once we arrived to camp, I stripped down to my shirttails and crashed on the ground. A civilian came by and offer some fried apple and peach pies for sale--Col Minton bought two and gave me one, and I bought two more, relishing in the delicious sweet savor.

I sat in as plans for the rest of the week were discussed. Due to the heat, we realized that Prairie D'Ann, our original goal for confronting the Rebel forces once and for all, was out of reach. The horses and artillery would have no issue, but the men simply would not be able to endure the 26 mile march in the four days available to us. We instead devised to march about halfway the distance, to a field where we could make our stand.

A local woman invited the officers to a wonderful meal of cabbage stew and sweet tea. I cleaned up as best I could considering the heat, and followed the colonel to the citizens' camp.

It was a pleasant meal. The servants brought out the food and drink and we enjoyed pleasant conversation--that is, until the woman's son started heckling us as Yankees, shouting as us to return home. He was a spirited runt, and becoming quite annoying, but we managed through supper.

Courtesy Amy McCarty

The family living in that camp shortly held an entertainment session, singing songs to the soldiers as the gathered. The entertainment ended with E.N. McKlarty, the boy from dinner, performed on the trombone for us. As he completed his performance, spewing anti-union protests from time-to-time, Col. Minton made his way to the performance green. I followed close by with my shackles. His mother had put us up to it--we arrested him and I put the shackles on him--which proved a bit difficult due to the small size of his wrists. I ended up simply holding him until we got back to headquarters, where I put the shackles on his ankles around a post. We talked for a bit and tried to get him to pledge the oath of allegiance to the United States. After a while, we did finally release him, though he did manage to still work one leg free of the shackles.

I slept soundly. Wednesday morning came and I put together cheese grits and bacon, tracking down a campfire I could borrow a spot from. We planned to stay the day there, recovering from the march that brought us here and attempting to keep cool from the day's heat. However, before I could start cooking breakfast, the Rebels hit us at our camp. Our cav was ready, quickly pushing them back, and I told them to bring me a prisoner for interrupting my breakfast, which they failed to do.

Courtesy Mary Bellew

I got my breakfast and shared the large supply of cheese grits I made up with the rest of headquarters. At this point the quartermaster was choking us with rations--it seemed a near endless supply. I could only wonder if the Confederates were being fed as well.

By around noon, the Confederate commander entered camp to parley some terms with us. Well into the discussion, we were hit hard by the Confederate force, complicated by the fact that our pickets failed to sound the alarm. Our dismounted cavalry did manage to capture their gun, which had advanced far into the front lines. One of the artillery men suffered some powder burns in the scuffle, and the Rebels fell back.

Courtesy Mary Bellew

I later checked with the battalion adjutant as to what happened with the alarm from the pickets. He was as shocked as I at the failure of the alert, and assured me it would be dealt with. Later, the cavalry took over picket duty for awhile, so I checked in at each station to ensure they realized that if they saw the entire Confederate army come at them, they should fire a round, then retreat to safety.

A couple of privates brought a prisoner to me--a civilian they caught had a Confederate Provost pass on his person, along with a provost pass I issued him earlier. He claimed that one of the women planted the pass on him. I examined the pass and instructed the privates to hold him until the colonel returned to headquarters, where I could present the evidence and determine what to do with him.

The colonel examined the pass and heard his testimony, deciding to give the citizen the benefit of the doubt and release him. I confiscated the Confederate pass, however, before we sent him on his way.

We received a report of a handful of chickens that could be used for rations, so the colonel sent me on a run with a local in her wagon to retrieve them. The women drove me a few miles out of town to a home where I could find the hens. The home was a well-maintained, pleasant construction, with a large porch in front. Among a ton of clutter littering the porch were two ice-boxes.

I wrangled about seven hens, putting them in a box and returned to camp for the privates to enjoy.

Another night of rest and Thursday morning we were ready to step off by seven, but had to wait until 8:30 for the Rebel forces to pass us so that we could chase them. The pioneers took the rear guard, and I marched with them, ready to sound the alarm if the Confederate cav got creative and came up behind the column.

Courtesy Brian Andrew Barton

Captain Trent carried a bloody poke on a stick. Inside that poke they told me was Pericles, a chicken head from last night's supper. Pericles was their mascot, and they used it for their battle cry. Every so often, the pioneers would shout, "Pericles!"

As we marched through the field that led to a creek crossing where the Rebels were building a ford, we got a report of the fight ahead. Our cavalry reported capturing the Confederate Cavalry and artillery. We pushed forward to the ford, then soon came to a large tree between two and three feet in diameter that the Rebels felled to block the path. The pioneers were thrilled to have a task, so grabbed their tools and began hacking away.

The side branches were all removed and the main cut was chopped through, where it rested on the stump. They drilled some holes into the wood and asked one of the artillery crew to bring forward a cannon round, proceeding to dump the powder from the round into the hole. This had the result of infuriating Firecracker, as he had special rounds for blasting. The powder was poured so there was nothing that could be done other than detonate it. After a big poof, Firecracker grabbed a proper charge and handed it to the Pioneers for placement.

They waited to set the fuse, though. They first set a six mule team along the tree to pull it away once the explosives blew. When ready, they set the fuse and blew the charge, the mules rushing forward and carrying the log away. The whole blockade only delayed us by 45 minutes.

After a short break we marched on, chasing the Rebels through the fields and back onto the main road, but when we marched up a long hill, the hot day caught up to us as two of our men fell aside, overcome. One was a pioneer, the other from the infantry.

We stopped at a homestead to refresh and proceeded to evening camp. The road to Confederate camp came up to our right, so we posted the advance guard in a skirmish line on the side road. As we marched past, a shot was fired (I don't know if it came from our men or from the Confederate pickets). Before we knew, a squad of dismounted cav with shotguns was upon us. It wasn't much to worry about--the guard held back the squad with our .58 caliber Springfields with no problem at all.

Brian Andrew Barton

Once in camp, we found ourselves in an open and serene pine forest on a hillside next to a lake. Many of the men dipped in the lake to refresh.

Col Church provided a report of the cavalry's activity for the day. Apparently the cav captured the Rebel cavalry six times and one time captured all the Confederate wagons and one infantry company caught at stack arms and unbloused. He then proposed to harass the Confederates a few more times through the night, even offering to have the cav take over picket duty for the night to allow the infantry to rest. He also request the countersign to be something humorous. Since only the cavalry would be going through the pickets, I told him he could do whatever he wanted. He decided to have a password ("Damn") with a countersign ("Hot"). It was very appropriate for how hot the days have been.

Capt Trent came to Col Minton with plans for digging defenses on the field where we would stand against the Rebels. He showed a sketch and explained plans to dig a three foot trench all around, making the area large enough for the infantry. He described setting up abatis and other French-sounding defenses that I have no idea what they are (I'm an infantryman, not an engineer). He even named the construct, "Fort Minton".

To Capt Trent's dismay, the request was denied.

The next morning we delayed some to ensure we would not encounter the Confederates before we reached the battlefield. Since the morning before they delayed about an hour and a half, we thought it that stepping off at eight would be sufficient. We passed through the campsite the Confederates used, Capt Trent examining all choke points along the way. The heat was setting in so we had to stop once. Capt Trent requested to have the pioneers released to set up a blockade for the Confederates on our planned retreat.

Courtesy Mary Bellew

We heard the sound of artillery and gunfire in the distance as we approached the battlefield. The report I heard was that our cavalry lost an entire company in a single blow making a treacherous dash into the field to flank the enemy, unknowing of the precise position of the enemy forces. The cavalry and our artillery was able to push the Rebel forces back, so that by the time the infantry arrived and was able to enter the field, the Rebels had fallen back to the far end of the field.

Our cavalry took the flanks. The artillery worked in a position to the left of center, while the infantry battalion positioned to the right of center, in direct line with the Rebel infantry. Our numbers were near equal in all areas, even slightly greater. The distance was perhaps around 200 yards across the field to the enemy. The Rebel cavalry also took the flanks. I did not see where the Confederate artillery was as, being an infantry man, I was focused on the infantry.

Courtesy Mary Bellew

Col Minton gave instruction for the infantry to take position and advance upon the enemy as soon as possible. Our infantry reached their position and waited. The Rebel infantry fired a volley, and like a bear awakened from it's slumber, our infantry started its advance. Another Rebel battalion fire, our infantry continued forward another 30 yards and halted. They did fire, but the battalion's actions seemed lethargic. Frustrated at the sluggish activity of the battalion, Col. Minton walked across the field with Capt Shoun and I in tow, to determine the reason. When we arrived behind the battalion line, the Confederate infantry started a steady advance toward us, firing along the way. At about 20 yards, the Confederate force charged our line. There was a moment of chaos, and their Lt Colonel was captured. The Rebels fell back and reformed, resuming fire. We returned fire--but we were now at a stalemate. Col Minton instructed Maj. Dal Bello to either push the Rebels or retreat--our current position was precarious and could not be maintained.

The major order the battalion to fall back. Company H started first, double-quicking to the rear and left, with Company C not far behind. The Rebels continued to push us back, until we left the field to return our march back to our last camp.

Courtesy Mary Bellew

We left the Rebels at the field. The march led us to a small church where a number of civilians gathered for prayer. We stopped to water the mules and refill our canteens. There was a problem with the pump on the well, so the wagon moved to the neighbor's to fill from their well, while the rest of us enjoyed lemonade and sweet tea the citizens provided for us. Refilling the wagon took time--so long that the Rebels arrived while we rested. They were wiped out as well and in no mood for a fight, which was fortunate, so stacked arms near us and refreshed as well. The Confederate wagons pulled up, and while they waited, one of their horses fell and the wagon's puller broke. The wagonmaster was able to rescue the horse, but needed help getting the wagon to a safe place, up into the yard of the church. A group of our Federal infantry, including Col Minton, came to the Confederate wagon's aid and gave a good heave, bringing the wagon to safety where they could work on fixing it.

We left the church with the Confederates behind and marched non-stop back through Confederate camp and on to our camp. We passed by our pioneers at a choke point in Confederate camp, who quickly set up the barrier they worked on as we finished passing.

Courtesy Kirstoff Schnee

The rest of the day in camp passed quickly. I don't remember if I had anything to eat--I was too exhausted to care. The heat was high all week long, and all we saw was the occasional cloud and no rain. I laid against a pine steadily drifting into sleep, which was interrupted by the first few drops of rain we saw all week. Desperate for rain all week to cool us down--the only time we see it is when we want it the least. I dragged my gear and ground cloth to a nearby shelter and lay on my back, using my rubberized poncho to keep parts of my legs that I couldn't get under the shelter dry.

Darkness came, and the first bugle call sounded declaring all quiet would be coming soon. The artillery crew was exhilarated from the week's events so pulled out beer and began to celebrate. It was also Private Bruce's birthday, so Firecracker decided to celebrate by firing a few rounds from the gun. After the second earth-shattering blast in camp, Capt Schoun marched to artillery camp from HQ on the opposite side of our bivouac area, with me following. The infantry bugler sounded all quiet. When we arrived, Capt Schoun expressed his displeasure in the ruckus and informed Firecracker that he should have informed headquarters first. They had already loaded one final round, so the Captain allowed the last round to be fired. At that point, all went quiet. After a short while, resting back on our ground cloths, we could hear the Confederate artillery respond with three shots from their gun.

Courtesy Mary Bellew

Some time late into the night, we were awakened by the Confederate cavalry in the woods around our camp, firing randomly. It stopped as quickly as it started, and they left. However, we were so exhausted that even though the entire camp was probably awake, not a sound could be heard from any of the men. I think we figured if we just ignored them--they would go away.

We were awakened to the cavalry bugler at 5 am. We had plenty of time as the scheduled stepping off to return to Washington City was at 6:50, so all of us at headquarters just lay and kept relaxed. Col Minton was on his ground cloth a mere two feet from me when I heard a horse approach us. When I looked up, I saw the silhouette of one of the cavalry horses walking directly for Col Minton and me. Thoughts of the level of insanity the trooper had ran through me as I shouted for him to stop his horse, but there was nothing to be done--the trooper was nowhere close to his horse and had lost all control of it. That horse walked right between Col Minton and I, a mere two feet apart from each other, in the dark long before dawn. Col Minton told me that horse had set a hoof just eight inches from his hand. Fortunately, that horse continued on and no one was hurt, but in my mind that was simply a level of irresponsibility rarely seen. The trooper claimed the horse had simply gotten away from him, but in a field full of men sleeping on the ground--such is absolutely inexcusable. I do not know if disciplinary action was taken against the trooper.

As we readied for departure, the cavalry left the camp and one of the mules for our wagons left with them, putting our expected stepping-off time at risk. Fortunately, the cavalry caught it before it got too far and we were able to get everything together and step off only five minutes late. The march to Washington went quickly. We stopped at the high point of the march to recover from the hill climb and refill our canteens. I stayed with the rear guard. We really didn't expect the Confederates to harass us at this point, because we were sure they were as weary as we were, but we couldn't take any chances. The main body stepped off from our rest, and the rear guard went to the supply wagon to refill their canteens.

Courtesy Mary Bellew

As I watched over the departing infantry, I was suddenly distracted by one, then another of the rear guard loading their muskets. When I reached their position at the crest of the hill, I could see the Confederate cavalry advancing toward us. I told the rear guard to not engage the cavalry. It was still a couple of miles to Washington, and I had images of being forced to fight the Rebels the entire way. This guard were men from Company C, and their lieutenant was with us. I raised my hand to the Confederates to halt, and they obliged, fortunately. With the last canteen filled, we left the area. That lieutenant was clearly upset at being prevented from engaging the entire Rebel cavalry behind us and asked why would shouldn't fire on them if they came up on us. I pointed out that yes, if they came up on us we should fire on them--but they weren't coming on us.

The rest of the march was quiet, and we never saw the Rebels again.

Finally back at Washington, we gathered briefly for a tin-type, then accepted our furloughs, departing our own directions. I examined my gear--one boot was falling apart and will need repaired soon and the covering on my canteen needs more patches, despite already being a patchwork of patches on patches. I found in my rations that I had only one horehound drop left. It was the size of my fist, melded together from the original handful by the heat and humidity.

The campaign was the longest I had ever been on, and I was glad to have it over. There were plenty of stresses throughout the week. I was grateful that as an officer I was able to have my pack carried by the wagon--I am not sure I could have carried my own pack through all the heat over the 25 or so miles we marched, like the infantry had to do. It was a unique experience I will always remember.

Courtesy Mary Bellew

Lessons Learned:

1. On a campaign-level event such as this, pack as light as absolutely possible. In cooler weather, you might get by with packing heavier, but in our ninety-plus heat, ALL of us lightened our loads after the second day. The best thing--after you've packed everything for the campaign, unpack all your gear and leave 1/3 of it behind before repacking it. That should put you about right.

2. Be prepared for the long march. I was much more fortunate than some, but by the third day I was starting to struggle with blisters on my right foot. Doc had moleskin for everyone, which helped, but I found what worked best for me was to use the wrap I brought around my ankle and heel, which got me through to the end of the march. Had I done that from the start, I probably would not have had any problems at all.

3. I did get a number of bug bites, but wasn't really bothered by them--but others were pretty much eaten alive. Ticks and mosquitoes are both disease carriers, so cheating by using Deet or some equivalent is better than taking home a long-term experience such as Lyme disease or Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever.

4. Know the vegetation of the area where you dig your latrines. Yeah, it's a bad idea to dig a sink around a bunch of poison ivy. I overheard a report of at least one soldier suffering pretty severely due to this misjudgment.

5. Use common sense, and if you don't have any, ask for some. Why does someone have to be told not to wash dishes in the horse trough? Why does someone have to be told not to clean their musket in the public restroom? Why does someone have to be told not to put a drying towel down the porcelain toilet? Yes, these were all problems that occurred, all when we were camped in Washington. All I know is, you can't fix stupid.

Preserving the Battlefield

2015-05-24T15:02:00.000-04:00

Perryville Cleanup Day

Perryville, KY

May 23, 2015

We arrived at the Perryville Battlefield early ready to work. It was their cleanup day, and we hoped we could avoid the hazards we encountered from last year.

Ten of us from the 1st Tennessee were ready to work. Chad Greene assigned us to work on a couple of out buildings and a barn at the Bottom House, all of which had been built after the Civil War.

I started work on the roof of one of the out-buildings, using a crowbar to pull up the nails and tin. I figured this was a better choice than pulling out the hundred years of garbage that had collected in the area below.

It wasn't long when all the garbage was removed and they had me come down from the roof. They had a medium-sized tractor and used it to push the structure over. It didn't have any of the supports that the barn from last year had, so the building went down quick, and we piled the rubble into piles to be taken away or burned.

I moved on to removing siding from the main barn. Fortunately, we weren't going to be involved in taking this barn down. It had as much support beams as the previous year's barn, so I was relieved from that nightmare. I worked with a crowbar for awhile, separating the tin from the wood beams they were nailed to, but I decided to follow Chad Greene's lead and use a mallet to pound the tin away.

Some of the higher pieces were tough to deal with, so several of us worked together with a long wooden post jamming away at the pieces.

With the side ripped away, Chad decided to use have the tractor begin work in pulling down part of the barn. With a chainsaw, he weakened two corner beams in the back lean-to part of the barn, and had the tractor pull with a chain.

There was enough support remaining that the roof held. He proceeded with the next inner supports, then with the other corner, continuing until all the supports were down and the roof collapsed. It was smooth and scientific.

We broke for lunch, well worn from the hard work of the morning. Hot dogs, hamburgers, potato salad and beans replenished our strength.

We returned for more work, but all that remained were us from the 1st Tennessee and the Perryville staff, including Micah Trent and and a few others. The rest apparently had enough and went home.

With the roof down, Rick Compton and I worked with Steve Winston and Jackson Nyman's friend Moe all worked on stripping the tin from the fallen roof. The work was hard--a scattering of roofing screws held down the tin, making it rough to pull up until Steve and Moe pulled up all the screws with power drills.

Even with the screws up the work was hard, but eventually Rick and I figured out that by using shovels and working together, the tin rolled off like and orange peel.

While we worked on the roofing, the rest of the 1st TN either worked cleaning out the barn, or pulling up fencing.

At the end of the work, J.R. took us down the path the original 1st Tennessee took in the Battle of Perryville. We wanted to get some ariel footage, so I attempted to use my drone for some overhead video-but the Chinglish manual was a bit difficult to decipher, and so the footage did not come out.

When all was said and done, we headed back to the hotel to clean up, and enjoy a meal at the Kentucky Chocolate Factory in Harrodsburg.

Friends of Perryville Battlefield State Historic Site Facebook Page

The New Guard

2015-05-17T23:15:00.001-04:00

Conner Prairie

Fishers, Indiana

May 16-17, 2015

A threat of rain was of some concern over the projection of warm weather, but it was a weekend I looked forward to as the first battalion event of the season. This would be the first event with Danny Linkous as colonel of the Independent Guard Battalion. Duane Clarke and I retained our positions of Lt Colonel and Major, respectively. "Black" John Porter was on sick call that kept him from participating, so the colonel asked Lt Jim of the 19th Virginia to fill in as adjutant.

The companies joining the Independent Guard included the 1st Tennessee, with members from the 9th Kentucky and 19th Virginia falling in with them, the 44th Tennessee, the 5th Kentucky, 50th Virginia, 5th Virginia, 4th Virginia, and Austin's Battalion. 5th Virginia consolidated with the 5th Kentucky to form a significant company.

With lows above sixty, it was simple to keep warm Friday night in my A, and in the morning I decided to pass on breakfast before attending the sergeant's call and officer's call. We were to win the day's battle, but there was much question as to how it would go, since the Yankee commander was also new and unknown. Col. Linkous had the feel that Col Jesse Poe of the Army of Wabash had a fighting style similar to his own--one that was aggressive--so we were hopeful for a battle that would prove an enjoyable challenge.

Morning parade opened with Col Linkous taking the adjutant's role since acting-adjutant Lt Jim was not familiar with the parade duties of the adjutant, and the colonel also wanted to be sure to walk through the process with the companies to correct mistakes.

Once through parade, Col Linkous had the battalion break into separate wings for drill, I taking the left wing with the 1st Tennessee, Austin's Battalion, and the 4th Virginia. I took the men down to the battlefield and kept drill pretty short--perhaps 10 minutes--covering the skirmish drills and wheels that Col Linkous was concerned about. After I was satisfied with the results--the companies all seemed to handle the commands well (though I saw a little rust build-up in one of the companies), I turned the drilling over to the individual companies to drill at their discretion.

We were to win the afternoon battle. The colonel split the battalion four ways--right wing waited on the left flank of the battlefield, among the viewing crowd, the 4th VA deployed as skirmishers to harass the Yankees, the colonel would attach to the 44th Tennessee and put pressure on the far right, while I took the left wing at the rear.

As rain drizzled down, soaking our wool (except mine, since I was among the few who wore a poncho) I took the men down to the road we were to defend as planned, and waited. I expected to face an entire Yankee company, but none was to be found. Instead, a small band of Henrys and a few cavalry challenged us. The 4th VA, deployed as skirmishers faced a far stronger force near where the right wing would join the battle, but with the force before us, and I not sure where more Yankees might be hiding (was there more that would enter to our right flank?) and also not sure if the 44th TN would be able to come around in time to support us, I held ground, deployed as skirmishers instead of advancing. The pressure was light, with the cav only briefly attempting to flank us, when the captain of Austin's expressed a bit of his impatience to put some pressure on them, though it was not until Capt Sharp decided to push forward that I moved the wing to keep up.

From that point, the battle went quick. It seemed that for every step we took, the Henrys fell back three. I halted the wing when the Yankees took defensive positions behind the fence. At that time, I saw a clear opening on the right that was undefended and unnoticed. As I glanced around to see how the rest of the battle was progressing, both Capt Sharp and Austin's Captain came to me to request that Austin's take that far right position on the Yankee's flank, Capt Sharp suggesting he would provide support for the maneuver. Since they were reading my mind, I just shouted, "Go, Go! Go!" As Austin's got into position, only one Yankee noticed and responded, turning to direct his fire on Austin's. Austin's managed to get a single volley off, and the Yankees surrendered, ending the battle.

The rain continued for awhile, and most of us were pretty soaked. Everything below my knees was drenched. The weather cleared up when we headed to the dining hall to enjoy a meal of chicken Parmesan.

Late that night, Col Linkous came to our camp in the 1st Tennessee with the Yankee commander. We learned that Col Jesse Poe was a member of the 44th Indiana and fought us at Fort Wayne a few years back. Our conversation directed to goals of working together to support the hobby. I was impressed with the man, and hopeful of seeing more corroboration between the two sides of the reenacting hobby.

Through the night I struggled to keep warm since keeping dry was not possible, though remembering the frigid weather of Franklin helped to heat me.

At daybreak I fried up some bacon and eggs before heading over to officers' call. Today we would lose, and only divide by wings, with the Lt Col detaching with the 5th KY as vanguard skirmishers. Based on the plan Col Linkous discussed, I drilled my wing even shorter than Saturday, covering the basic maneuvers I was concerned with only twice. The companies nailed the maneuvers each time, so I was confident that we would take the field for the battle in good order.

The sun shone brightly as we set our positions on the battlefield that afternoon. I had my wing stack arms and rest at the back of the field, waiting for the Yankees to enter the field and engage the 5th KY.

When the fighting began, Col Linkous had me wait until the second artillery barrage to take arms and join the fight. I advanced the wing in a column of companies, bringing them forward into line once we were within range to support the 5th KY. We fought hard, and when the Yankee cavalry tried to flank us, I had Austin's refuse.

But it was not long before we were on the retreat. I ordered a backward march for about ten paces. We managed a single firing, but the Yankees kept the pressure on. We could hardly keep up--each time I brought the men back, they were lucky to fire a single shot before having to fall back more. The rest of the battalion soon joined up with us, but we were taking casualties all over the place. The battle quickly turned to complete chaos--it was at the point of fast reaction and survival. The companies were all mixed up. At one point Capt Sharp took a hit, falling into the grass and somehow getting a blade of grass up his nose all the way into his throat.

When we fell back to the road, those of us that remained surrendered, ending the battle.

The battle was among the best I had been involved in, even though we lost. Both days were my first commanding solo, and I found that I think I actually like losing better than winning. When you are supposed to win, you have to be careful not to push so fast and hard as to end the battle in five minutes, but you also must take care not to leave an opening where the opposing force can take advantage of, and then alter the entire scenario (or try to save the scenario by reacting in an irrational way). When losing, you can throw all caution to the wind and try things without regard to caution. If your actions throw the balance in your favor, you only need to open opportunities to the enemy to give the advantage back to the opposing force.

This battle confirmed that Col Poe of the Army of the Wabash is the aggressive type of commander Col Linkous suspected. I look forward to meeting them again.

The Season Begins

2015-04-26T15:17:00.000-04:00

Spring Drill

Tawawa Park, Sidney, Ohio

April 25, 2015

The 2015 reenacting season finally arrived with the 1st Tennessee Spring Drill, at Tawawa Park in Sidney, Ohio. Our camp was located at the back entrance to the park, which proved a bit confusing to find. There was no sign to the back entrance, which looked like a residential driveway, with the only building near that entrance looking like a house. I drove past the entrance twice before seeing others of the 1st trying to figure out where the camp needed set up.

Cpl Silvers and I were the ranking NCOs on site at the time, but we had GPS coordinates set by Capt Sharp, so tracked the Google Maps marker like a witching rod to the right spot and staked our tents.

The drill was only planned for Saturday, so about half of the 1st chose to not camp, but instead arrive in the morning and leave Saturday night. Private Winston, the designated firestarter, set up our campfire and we relaxed around it long into the night. The weather didn't feel all that cold, and we were all able to keep warm enough, though fearful of our memories of Franklin.

Light rain tormented us off and on throughout the following morning, but was never enough to keep us from our drills, where we drilled by platoons, and covered the manual of arms and did a good part of the school of the soldier. Eventually, Capt Sharp brought us back together and we performed additional drill as a company, including skirmish drills.

After a break from the drilling, Capt Sharp broke us into two platoons and limited us to five rounds per man, and sent us into a tactical of platoon versus platoon.

First platoon, commanded by Sgt Kletzli double-quicked down the path to the objective, while Sgt Carte gathered second platoon, with me as the corporal for second platoon, and began a mosey down the other path, keeping an eye out for the caches of ammunition.

Sgt Carte sent privates Cochran and Broughton off to scout our flank, and we advanced down the trail, approaching the marker indicating the objective, where encountered a few of the first platoon re-positioning to defend their ground.

I ran to locate Cochran and Broughton to gather our force. Upon locating them, I considered taking them back to second platoon, or flanking around and up the hill to create a distraction at first platoon's rear. Returning to the platoon could lose a time, but advancing around would leave us out of communication, and hoping that Sgt Carte might not know that we have engaged.

Cochran, Broughton, and I headed up the hill behind first platoon, trying to make it to the top undetected. Climbing the hill, we somehow lost Pvt Cochran, but kept pushing forward, until we ran into Cpl Silvers and Sgt Nyman of first platoon defending one of the ammunition caches--or at least that is what they claimed.

We charged once they fired, but it was of no use.

In the end, first platoon held the objective, as second platoon was unable to push them away.

After the tactical, rain decided to let loose and turn the rest of our day into a chilling torment, never ceasing and turning the area around our campfire into a soup of mud.

The city of Sidney sponsored our time at the park, providing necessities and Saturday dinner. The chicken meal was a delightful way to conclude a long day. After the meal, a few of us participated in the dance the historical society held.

That evening nearly all of the 1st returned home, packing up in the rain. Only Sgt Kletzli, Private Winston, and myself braved the weather to sleep the night in the park. We were all too tired and wet to deal with packing up in the waning light, and with at least an hour and a half drive home, we didn't want to have to deal with fighting sleep while driving. Though the night was a bit colder than the previous, and the rain did stop around 10 pm. I did still struggle a bit with the cold, but managed to get sufficient rest.

Despite the rain, I think all of us agree that this drill was one of the more successful spring drills the company has had in its history. Our turnout was among the highest at around twenty, and we worked the winter rust out of our system in record time. We are more than ready for the season ahead.

Frozen to the Ground

2014-11-17T16:59:00.000-05:00

150th Battle of Franklin

Franklin, TN

November 15-16, 2014

I set up my pitiful excuse for a dog tent, grumbling about my need to make longer uprights for it. One of these days I’ll get around to it.

My pitiful dog tent

No shovel, but the fire pit had to be dug. I was assigned the detail of digging the pit, and with the assistance of Pvt Myers we moved the dirt with a hatchet and bayonet. Pvt Foust used his ingenuity and procured a shovel from a neighboring camp and finished the pit out for us.

We were informed that firewood for Friday evening was in short supply, but more would come in the morning. We were to take only what we needed. We set up a stack and I piled some wood in the pit to ready a fire, but we waited to start it so that we could make a trip into town to visit the local pub for some burgers.

We first hit a few of the Franklin Battlefield sites about the town, seeing where several significant actions took place, then made our way to dinner.

A few, including Capt Sharp, stayed behind to cook their meal. I chose to join the crew for burgers as I like to be lazy the first night after the work of setting camp—plus I wasn’t sure I had brought enough provisions to include Friday evening meal. Within the warmth of the pub and full on what must have been a half pound of beef, I received word that Capt Sharp was having difficulty getting the fire going. Since Sgt Kletzi was unable to attend due to surgery, I knew that he couldn’t be the source of the difficulty, so I was a bit confused as to why the captain would have trouble. My pile included plenty of kindling plus a couple of firestarters, so a single match should be all it took to get a good bonfire.

I found my explanation when I returned to camp. By the time I arrived a small fire was smoldering in the pit, but almost no flame nor heat came from it. It looked as though the men were gathered around a candle trying to keep warm. The cold had started to hit, but the fire refused to warm us due to wood that was extremely green. It was as though the wood had been chopped down from living trees the night before. I piled a few more logs onto the flames, but it was to no avail. It took until well into the night before a decent flame was emitted within the dense cloud of smoke pouring out of the pit.

The night was cold. Well, that does not quite describe it. The night was very cold. Bitter cold. Artic cold. So cold even the fire couldn’t burn. It might not have been a night where hell was freezing over, but certainly the lake of fire needed stoking. The morning report told us that Louisville experienced a record low of 16 degrees. We heard mixed reports of somewhere between 18 and 22 for us.

Pvt Foust struggles to get warm.

Thank the Lord, I’m not a hard-core campaigner. Though I used a dog tent (and a pitiful one at that), I did have a modern army sleeping bag and one of those hand-warmers. Capt Sharp loaned me a spare Zippo hand-warmer. I was able to keep satisfactorily warm during the night, getting a decent sleep, and ready for action in the morning. I was far more fortunate than Privates Foust and Hampton, both of whom roughed it by going true campaign-style with only a couple of blankets and a ground cloth. Pvt Foust had it worse with only a summer quilt and ground cloth. No end came to his informing us in the morning of just how cold he was.

As company clerk, my duty for this event was the morning reports. In total, we had 18 soldiers, seventeen rifles, including Sgt Carte’s as acting 1st Sergeant. We made it through the night, but supplies were grim. No water buffalos, though we were promised them the night before. Sufficient water was provided within the time of our need for them, but only by a supply of one gallon jugs. Porta johns were sufficient, but only convenient for the Yankees—we could only get to them by trudging through the Yankee camps, which fortunately was not far, but still—a little awkward. Servicing of the porta-lets was non-existent, so by Saturday afternoon they had become unusable—but the park gave us all-night access to the permanent facilities.

Overall, there was an air of disorganization about, but it was what it was.

The battle itself went well, following a decent scenario from the Battle of Franklin, though there was a bit of confusion from not knowing the colonel’s command style, which was far different from the various battalions we’ve fallen in with in the past.

We opened forming a skirmish line, and I found my new trousers to be troublesome as the smaller pockets kept spitting out all my possessions all over the battlefield. Somewhere is a pocket knife someone else will enjoy.

We soon advanced in waves upon the Federal breastworks, eventually failing the charge.

Saturday evening a few of us wanted to try to make for Stone’s River to see a bit of the museum, but unfortunately were delayed by a technical issue with one of the vehicles, so opted instead to run to the local Taco Bell for supper.

Upon our return, Pvt Hampton somehow succeeded in creating a blaze that stood to his reputation, warming us to the point that vests were all that were sufficient to hold back the cold. The night was warming than the previous, but rumors were abounding of possible sleet hitting us during the early morning hours. Some of the Rebels, scared off by the rumors, deserted. We discussed the option of leaving, but decided it best to stay and await for what the morning would hold for us. We had come this far and had been through the worst with the night before—we should at least see what was in store for us in the morning.

I woke Sunday morning almost too warm, not quite so tightly bundled in my sleeping bag as I had been the night before. A light pattering of spitting rain danced on my canvas as I struggled to convince myself to squirm out of my coverings.

A glance about revealed by the absence of canvas that a large portion of the Rebel force had gone AWOL due to the weather, with the Yankees across the field soon following. It did surprise us a bit to see the Confederate forces leaving first, as in the North we’re used to seeing the Yankees desert first at the sign of inclement weather. We decided to join the crowd and abandon the cause, packing up our gear. We were held up by another technical issue—one of ours locking their keys in their car—so we held on in the rain. Soon, the captain of the other 1st TN came over to tell us the event was canceled, so once our comrade freed the keys from his vehicle, we made our way to Stone’s River to view the museum, stopping first at the Confederate Cemetery at the edge of the park.

We viewed the museum and drove around the battleground, spending little time out due to the continuous rain. From there, we drove to the Sam Davis Homestead, where artifacts from the original 1st Tennessee were said to be. Unfortunately, we found the place closed on Sundays, so settled for a few cameo photos of the cotton field.

We finished our day driving to the Civil War Museum in Bardstown, Kentucky, arriving about a half hour before they closed. It was an experience to see this museum, and I wish we had more time, as the artifacts were more than could be viewed in the little time we had. An elderly volunteer, however, offered to take us up to another location of the museum, just to the top of the hill, and show us the flag captured with John Hunt Morgan, in spite of it being after-hours. We were able to see that among many other things in that other part of the museum.

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The battle hot and heavy, I’m fighting for my home.
The Yanks have got Nashville, and the lead is falling down.
My mate Frank fires his musket, a ball takes me down.
And on this field I lay, wondering if tomorrow I'll be home.

A victory or defeat escapes my eyes and ears
For I am buried to keep the crows from feeding
Upon my flesh which finally stopped bleeding
And leaves my kin in tears.

But one day comes and I am dragged
to one corner of that field
Where with my mate Frank I lay
And rest through the years.

Time goes by and a Juniper grows
That forgotten may we not lay
Marked by a stone that all may see
That Frank and John fought and died
And now lay under the Juniper tree.

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