![]() |
|
![]() |
||
| Official newsletter of the 14th Tennessee Co. B Volunteers | ||||
At the very least, the Oakley Tactical or something like it is an experience that every reenactor, either at this location or at another, should seriously consider doing once. We all honor and attempt to emulate these past Americans who fought for reasons they thought to be worth the possibility of dying for, which over 500,000 did. As civil war reenactors and living historians taking one weekend out of our busy lives should not be too high a sacrifice to do it as they did just once.
So what does "do it as they did" mean. Realizing that we can only try to come close to this concept means you carry your whole world on your person, you are miles from your vehicle or any of the modern conveniences we enjoy at reenactments. You are in marching order. No canvas, no coolers, no porta potties, . instead you have issued rations, not KNOWING when the next engagement is to occur, cussing officers and the regulations that they are following and making you follow, picket duty, marching with full packs right after fighting with full packs on and then building breast works, etc. Believe me, waking up after the third day of doing this and realizing you are going to fight and march some more, all you can think about is how the hell did those soldiers back then do this months and years at a time? I'll tell you, waking up the last day of the event I am just about played out and ready for even the simplest of creature comforts like ice, a diet coke, my tank top and a pair of shorts at the end of this reenactment.
The level of impression was the highest I have ever seen. Due to the fairly rigid parameters of the event authenticity was unparalleled, as was the attempt at first person impressions. Each company had the same caliber or even same model of three-band musket. The federals fielded two full scale mounted artillery pieces. Everyone had bayonets and stacking arms was the norm wherever we stopped. Almost everyone in the confederate battalion wore a partial or complete uniform of jean wool, with hand-sewn buttonholes and topstitching, and the properly constructed and type of slouch, kepi or forage cap. It was certainly the best impression by a battalion I had ever been a part of.
Friday started with assembling the troops, twelve in my company and about 70 in the confederate battalion containing four companies in all. Next came roll call (I was the 1st Sergeant) and then the issuing of period rations. The rations were actually very acceptable; minute rice, minute oatmeal, Marie Callanders corn meal, hard tack, a cone of raw sugar, salt pork and a poke of tobacco. All of this was divided amongst the company members, canteens were filled and we marched down the road to the first assembly point. Facing us on the federal side was maybe about 80 to 90 soldiers supported by two mounted artillery pieces.
As soon as we reached the first point we began to dig in and build up our first breast works. Everywhere we went Friday and Saturday meant stopping to build breastworks, defending these and then retiring up this narrow valley to build another defensive point, marching and fighting with full packs on. Rarely were the federals seen fighting with full packs. One or two federal companies did, but this was the exception and not the general rule. Personally I went through five to seven canteens of water a day, this was our only luxury having enough water to drink everywhere we went for the whole weekend. Each morning and each evening there was time for cooking rations which were very simple but at least filling. The real test here was working out messmates, then cooking enough for your small group, and then cooking your rations in a way that was palatable to everyone. A very sharp knife is essential when cutting salt pork. Perhaps some of the most remarkable and thankfully the best things that could have happened for us this weekend was that there was no rain, we had warm days and, even better, warm nights. This is in stark contrast to the rain and flooding of last year and the cold nights of the year before that.
Sunday saw the confederate battalion fighting its way back up the valley. It started slow as for some reason we had to wait several hours for the federals to pack up their camps. Seems they had quite a supply train that included some canvas and their mounted artillery required extra time.
So what's the reward? For myself it's a clearer sense of what those boys went through, a closer experience to the civil war soldier's life, and certainly a far deeper respect for them. It is also another experience to add to any living history and impression that I may chose to do and use to it educate the public and even some of my fellow reenactors. What did I learn? What some of my limits are, what is important and essential enough to carry around for three days and who your friends and campmates are, you know, the guys that you can count on.
In conclusion, this is an experience that is taken with the good and the bad. Standing the line with old friends and new ones, putting yourself to the test even though it is a mild one in comparison to the trials endured 140 years ago, living a few days without anything that you are used to having at your finger tips and suffering just a little bit. I could write a great deal more and in far greater detail but chose instead just to summarize and give you all a glimpse so that you will want to see for yourself what makes this an event or experience not to miss. Will I do it again, absolutely yes, but thankfully and honestly not anytime soon.
Kudos to Gary Busic and Bobby Frazier for a job well done in commanding the Confederate Battalion. A special thanks to my pards in the 21st Virginia Infantry Co E; Goose, Smiley, Orly, Mike, John, Jimbo the Wise, Jonny Ray, Ryan and Capt. "Stretch" Sylvester who were with me shoulder to shoulder on the line this weekend.