Winter of '64 - The review and thanks...

[Pvt_Sullivan]

Newfane, NY @ 4:00 PM EST
Mostly Cloudy
24°F (Feels like 13°F)

It was down right frigid. I was thankful that I had no duties that evening and the inmates of "Fiddler's Green" spent the night talking politics, singing songs and sharing the largess of our boxes from home.

Newfane, NY @ 12:00 PM EST
Snow
27°F

A group of us were preparing to head out for Picket Duty. It ended up being much colder I believe, although I had acclimatized and didn't feel a need for my Overcoat anymore at this point...

seeing as I am portraying a Soldier who was also a Methodist Minister. I will place my future in God's hands and do my best to do his work today in our world.

I tried to do justice to my assignment, Pvt William Blowers: aged 69 yrs; Methodist Minister, loving Husband and Father of three girls.

It was hard with the unending vice and profanity of Army Life. The Lieutenant repeatedly offering me a chance to place a wager on a Prize Fight amid the gambling, lurid conversations and intoxicating liquors.

Luckily the fatigue details, dress parades, roll calls, guard duty, picket duty and provost guard managed to keep the Battalion occupied and free from an excess of vice.

I did slip in the end, when the White Star Saloon opened I shifted from being 'William' and became "Willy" who was a Soldier more in keeping with my personal character or lack there of. The chance to drink cold beer and lose $10 playing Chuck-A-Luck was too much for my weak soul.

My sincerest thanks to my fellow Soldiers, the NCO's, Officers and our Civilian Interpreters for making my first Tier One event the experience I had hoped it would be.

[BillO'Dea]

I enjoyed very much the company of 7 men and a wonder dog whom can sing patriotic songs and happy birthday in a 10 by10 hut, Only slipped three times and the last one Sunday banged the elbow on the edge of a bench, There was much slippage over all. Won three bucks on "Roooooooooooooosh". That rattle seemed to spin faster as the Unionist's idiot son got more nervous. Doing picket as a johnny by the ford with the ice jam was pretty. Nice turning out to the fife and drum camp calls for four days. Learned seven pairs of boots dry out over night nicely hanging in the rafters. Like the found gifts to the boys from Mr. Beasley.
Bill O'Dea
Saltboiler mess/122nd NY

Did I mention I was able to watch the Eclipse of the moon while standing Sentinel in a snowy woods :)

[Spinster]

That rattle seemed to spin faster as the Unionist's idiot son got more nervous.
Bill O'Dea
Saltboiler mess/122nd NY

Glad you recognized that little gem of a toy for what it was Mr. O'Dea---a fine repro watchman's rattle that has done a good deal of fine mischief in its life. Our Mr. Morgan does manufacture wonderful things with which to manufacture trouble.

In airplane baggage wayyyyy too full of multiple props and outfits for multiple roles, that one little item spoke loudly "take meeeeee", and I did not know what it was for until the morning of...........

Some things give great pleasure in the owning---others in the knowledge that they will never see the light of day again. Once a few other things are completed, this particular watchman's rattle will be available to be auctioned for the benefit of the Authentic Campaigner Preservation Project.

What the winner does with said rattle is his bizness. :D

[Johnny Lloyd]

Hello!

Just got back...

1) "No, Marse Craddock... you cain't have my blane weapon..."
2) -"You Leichtman, have a propensity for speech..."- "Boy, did you jest call me a loudmouth in a nice way???"
3) Jellied eel... just like grandma makes... and Mr. Runyon does too, I see.
4) Directions for use: Please cant to an angle and "aim well".
5) Doom... how'd THAT get there? Wait, scratch that- I don't wanna know.
6) THE BONE
7) Awkward Mess
8) Anyone for a round of Chuck-a-luck after I lost my money?
9) "Dang, Dutchie...did you take a buffalo to the sinks?"
10) LA-Rooosh- make me a rich man!!!
11) You suh, are a liar and a cheat...
12) "It ain't a parade... it's the Ice-Capades."
13) "May the evil Hindoo gods from deepest, darkest Africa strike you down for your heresy!"
14) "Ugh... it tastes like the devil himself shat in the pot."
15) "Dancin' thar on your little pope-ish throne..."
16) "Uh... So... I guess that means we're all 'jacked-up' in here, I reckon."
17) The Haint sez: "Don't vote for Lincoln..."

Oh... and-

18) Sol-jah, remember to hydrate before worshipping at the altar of...

VESUUUUVIUS!!!

Huzzah! Awesome event.

Thank you to all for a memorable experience.
If you ever need me for anything, you need only ask-

Your friend and compatriot,
Johnny Lloyd
(George Leichtman, Company H/151st NYSV)

[ley74]

Arrived back at 12:45 AM Monday. More later.

Pvt. Harvey Wilson
Co. H, 151st NYV

[fallstoomuch]

11) You suh, are a liar and a cheat...


SLAP!

[Charles Heath]

I had fun, how about you?

aka Del. Rob't Beasley, U.S.C.C.

[bhutton]

Thanks to all for making my 1st of I hope many AC events such a memorable expierience, the organizers went above and beyond, the conditions really left me with an idea on how those fellows lived.
Met some really great people, had a fantastic time,learned a lot. Filling out my application now for the next event I'm going to attend.
Thanks to all

Bob Hutton
AKA George Horsfall company K

[orngblsm]

Gents,

W64 turned out to be one bully great time!! I'd like to thank the planning committees for all they did in creating some of the best scenarios I've been a part of. The candor and demeanor of all who attended was excellent. To the Pine Cottage Boys: It was a privilege and a pleasure to have taken up residence with you. Hope to see everyone soon

With Thawed Toes and Chapped Lips I am,

[Pvt_Sullivan]

I had fun, how about you?

aka Del. Rob't Beasley, U.S.C.C.

I did as well Sir...

Next time, I'll make sure to have a brush and a recipe for paint so I can make you a more proper sign than using campfire ash and my fingers.

[Charles Heath]

Peter,

The sign was just right. Throwing together a chapel in the temporarily vacated sutler hut was something that came together as an alternative to slipping and sliding down that hill to the brush arbor, and we probably had more walk-in traffic near the end of the company street than at a location closer to "Beverly Ford."

For those who are interested, Terre Lawson's W64 AAR thread on the OTB is starting to receive a fair amount of postings about socks, dead batteries, fence posts, ink, pencils, stamps, hospital patient(s), the "little treasures," trash piles, tracts, firestarter, newspapers, and such.

[swampyankee76]

I am honored to earn the nick name Corporal Jonah.... well kinda! I wonder how many times i tripped and fell on the ice. Last time i counted it was 14.

[Johnny Lloyd]

I saw the ones on the event website, but anyone have any more pics of W64 2008?

Just a thought- Johnny Lloyd

[GrumpyDave]

It is impossible still, after several days, for me to describe the feelings left to me from the event. I do apologize though, to those who did not attend. You will see jokes here for quite some time, only some few will understand. Imagine if you will, how you would feel, temperatures in the 20's snow on the ground and; You're told you will be the officer in charge of a replacement detail for the Grand Guard, which was on post about a mile and a half from camp. We were to take our gum blankets and wool blankets only. I myself packed an extra pair of socks. Megar rations and rounds were issued to the men, I received none. We would be releived in the morning. I am certian, the feelings in the hearts of those men assigned were the same as mine. I know the looks on their faces were.

I see a common theme umong the folks that attended the event. How do I write an AAR for a four day event? And, how do I put what I experienced into words?

[Charles Heath]

Grumpy,

Ley has said a couple of times that his "PAR" or "Pre-Action Report" may end up being longer than his AAR. If there is a post-event epistle, simply must include that pancake breakfast with the locals and about 200 of their friends and neighbors. What a motley and funky sight we must have been in that fire hall after W64.

On to Glendale!

[unionprivate]

Pancake breakfast!? Did you gentlemen venture out to the South Wilson Fire Company for their Sunday farmers breakfast?? What a treat after 4 days of army food.

As others have said, its hard to write about what we experienced. Its just one of things that you had to be there to understand. Next time you're at an event with your home unit, sit back and take notice on how many men complain because either its too hot or its too cold. Or they complain because they have to do fatigue duty, or picket duty or march a small distance, or because the food isn't the greatest. You can sit back, with coffee in hand and smile, knowing youve been there, done that and the other men have no idea what it's like to be put in that extreme.

I, for one, am proud to say that I am one of the few who have taken the challenge and survived the last w64 to be had. Although, I wouldnt have hard feelings if the event organizers lied and were planning another w64 behind our backs :wink_smil

[ley74]

As I remarked to Chawles, it has been two and one-half years in the hobby and no two events have ever been the same. While I did attend the 2006 version of W'64, it was in no way like the 2008 rendition.

- The sinks were better
- It was warmer
- Burner Hut vs. Sibley
- Shirking duty is as much of a challenge as actually being on fatigue (I am not a small person and it was only for 12 hours
- The additional two plus days we were on site gave me a glimpse of what the Committee went through to bring this one home, I had fun.
- Lard can be problematic but oh so worth the effort
- The oyster stew was well received. The tinned oysters were delightful as well.
- Cpls. Long and LaRouche did a heck of a job with the period boxing match. Hopefully folks were surprised at how "real" it was.
- Fried Peach Pies
- Icecapades do not hold a candle to the goings on near the USCC shed. Several may qualify for the Winter Olympic trials.
- Conan the Airedale Terrorist was a great addition. What a wonderful dog.
- The yellow snow joke was NOT lost on me.

Other notable items:

The fellowship at the fire hall was a wonderful surprise. The food was great.
Scott, Dennis, Sparky, Pete, Coldfoot and Kevin deserve our highest gratitude.
Co K sure can cook.
Rob Carter sure can cook.
The wallet hunt by Sgt. Mustache was like a scavenger hunt. ("I may have to walk to Minnesota.")

While I had a great time, there was a feeling at the end that I had been part of something special. Then Scott went and said it during dress parade and it all made sense. We became a living monument to the brave men of the 151st New York. I did shed a tear. Could not help it. That moment will last my lifetime.

Since most on this forum would not be able to appreciate the PAR, I will post it to the W '64 Yahoo Group over the weekend and the Columbia Torch in April. It may seem selfish but that's okay in this case.

When our mess (not yet CRs in early 2006) were invited to W'64, in the parking lot of the Payne's Farm event, we all signed up right then. We had no idea. We do now.

Thank you, all freaking 70 of you, for these and many other memories of last week.

[BrianHicks]

Dinner Menu for Vesuvius Lodge, Monday. Feb 21st, 1864 (actually Sat. the last night of the event).

Course One: Pork & Vegetable Stew

Course Two: Tomato Stewed with Salami and a Mixed Pickle Relish (mixed with crab meat)

Course Three: Sweet and Hot Vesuvius Pork Chop with either a Spiced Rue or a Cherry Glace

Course Four: Pickled Peaches

Course Five: Appertife
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not only were all of the above items prepared, but served in a very professional manner.

Pvts Williams and Randall had 'volunteered' to cut up the 150lb half hog the forage detail had brought in. So... they very deftly portioned out a dozen 2" thick center cut pork chops (hey... we all know the butcher keeps the best cuts for himself.... ;) ).

With these prime chops packed away in snow, the task then became how to best serve them. After some quick trading with other folks on the Company street, and help from an Officer who brought the Crab Meat and a some spices from the Officers mess... the menu was set!

Needless to say, the meal was extraordinary!

Justin Runyon and Matt Woodburn did an excellent job in making that dinner a smashing success! (and yes... it was much better than the rats Matt cooked up for a few of us at Vicksburg!).

[MacCaithaigh]

First of all I want to thank the organizers and the 151st NY Reenacting Unit for allowing Joe and I to put on a period style boxing match. It was a great turn out and I wish that all could have seen. (Next time). I really appreciated the shelter that was built, the Twine Castle. Kevin you did a superb job keeping everyone informed and on the same page for the event. Thank you. Shawn I pray that you and Zach made it home safely. Thank you for being my second at the match. I hope you had fun, I sure did.

What can I say about the Winter of 64. WOW! WOW! did I just say that twice. I could see the commeraderie growing each day. It was sad to say goodbye. Imagine that we actually had served together for years. I believe that the friendships that I had with some grew and that there are now some new friendships growing. I am thankful that the event is not this week. Amen.

Thanks Steve and Charles for your impressions of the USSC. I enjoyed my "Friday/Sunday" service. I traded the tomatos for some sausage. Amen.

Even if Conan the dog barks at your singing I still like it Rob.

Tom Gingras aka Mr. Geer, thank you for your support all weekend. Whether it was Guard duty or fatigue you were there to do your duty. Sincerely, the Champ.

I hope everything came out alright at the sinks Mr Selip/Slaughter. Mine worked out just fine.

Thanks for the good conversation in the Cooler Hut. Y'all were packed in there. Alex you barely fit in the bunk by yourself. Congratulations on retiring Mr. Rodman.

Can I tell you a little story about some guards that were guarding the wood pile.

"Was your weapon inspected this morning? No, Sir. Let me see your weapon? Corporal La Roche have this man arrested immediately."

Adam did you ever find your belt plate the second time?

To the men of VESUVIUS, it was a pleasure serving with you and for you. This include you too, Pat. Martin, Farley, Justin, Matt I had fun, Thanks. Kiev thanks for your help. I pray that I will see you gentlemen soon. By the way there is a village in Augusta County, VA named Vesuvius and I have a couple of friends that live there.

I don't know where to stop, maybe I will write more later. Thanks to everyone for a great time. God Bless.

[Johnny Lloyd]

Gents:

Yeah, hate to sound like I'm gloating, but ya'll missed a great one if you didn't go. I have a feeling everyone will be talking about this one like they talk of BGR 07 in the near future.

Some highlights:

-Merrymaking at Vesuvius was wonderful! :p

-Guard duty boredom/lack of anything to keep the mind occupied was very real... It reminded me of doing guard duty in Iraq when I was living with the Iraqis. Some things do not change in 140+ years.

-The food was not great at first, but got better over the next 4 days. I was told as a rumor it was done that way on-purpose so the men would complain to their NCOs and officers would react to the situation. If this was true, which I feel it to be based on what I experienced, then this is a great excercise that adds much realism. Brilliant. Did this actually happen?

-I stayed in Pine Cottage, which, I feel, was pretty comfortable (then again, I think I'm just crazy like that:rolleyes:)- we had 10 men sleeping in a room smaller than my bedroom on boards with a single wood-burning stove for heat against freezing temperatures. We modified the quarters to our liking/comfort and this idea of mutual survival caused us to bond together with others we barely knew. Very realistic... again, when in real combat, a unit moves into old hootches previously occupied by another replaced unit, soldiers collect junk from home, the PX, care packages, etc. and modify the quarters to their own use. It still happens today.

-As far as anachronisms, if there were any (which there were some, but VERY few) they were hard to see. I saw some modern nails in a few boxes- no biggie for me, that's mostly it for modernisms.

Everyone was really respectful of the experiences of others in this matter. Sometimes this isn't so at events, as you well know.


-Events planned were wonderful...


1) I was on Confederate duty and we camped in the woods for most of the night, listening to the sounds of the Yankee pickets talking with the Confederates. It was cold, dark and spooky. :)

2) We foraged at a house and "acquired" food from a civilian man, his mother and mentally-slow brother. She began to cry and the scene was not overplayed. Very disheartening this actually happened to citizens of the South- my ancestors. Reality set in here, too.

3) The boxing match was great... I made a fortune betting heavily on my corporal to win and he did. Huzzah! On another realistic note, in Iraq, we had boxing matches between my brigade's battalions to cut the boredom. Bottom line: it still goes on in real warfare amongst the men.

4) There was a soldier's "saloon" tent outside the camp in which we all drank (for a modest tip in real money) period drinks made according to the "Bon Vivant's Companion" or the original period recipies for mixed drinks. I lost all of my period money at the Chuck-a-Luck table and the Faero table. This was awesome, as I have always wanted to learn how to play these games.

5) We lived totally by the drum and fife. When it went off, we woke, ate, did duty, etc. Very real... it reminded me of being at The Citadel and living by the bugle call again. I haven't done that in ages! ;)

6) All paper materials (newspapers, circulars, etc.) were actually properly dated to the week we were supposed to be in camp. What else... Nice touch!

7) I think by the event being non-battle-focused, we had time to understand how material culture works/might have looked liked in a real camp.

My only suggestion is that there were 1 day out of the 4 in which we did not do anything at all (similar to a church/holy day) so we could try to keep ourselves occupied in a period-correct way and enjoy fellowship with fellow authentics. Boredom, followed by great and rapid activity, then more boredom, is the way of a real warzone.


Bottom line: Every effort was made to be period-correct by all and it came together like no other event.


Again... thanks for the experience. If there is another event like this one, I'll clear my schedule for it ASAP. It was well-worth missing work for this event!!! :)


Thanks- Johnny Lloyd

[Charles Heath]

Johnny,

It was good to meet you at W64. Sad to learn you were mugged at OP3 back in October at Rippavilla, even though we did have a good laugh at your expense over in Capt. Landrum's company. Okay, several good laughs, but I digress.... :p

If you take the time to reread the pre-event materials, especially the actual accounts from the 151st NYVI at the time they were living at Brandy Station, you'll find yourself thinking "hey, we did what I'm reading." There is a whole bunch of "read history and then do it" in the W64 continuum, but one aspect I really enjoyed in the 2005-2006 sequence was the Payne's Farm as the 151st NYVI leading up to that rendition of W64. Good times!

I see where Kevin has already asked for AARs, essays, impression notes, and such for an upcoming CWH article. This is a good time to jot a few of those down and submit them.

The Bible we used during Sunday services was something pulled from a trash pile in Richmond a few years ago. It was headed to the dump, and although the covers were pulled off, it was worth saving. It has sat in my tractor shed for a number of years in the midst of some scattered Chilton, Haynes, Ferguson and Farmall Service Manual type publications. It wasn't until we were piddling around with this event that I thought about using it as the recovered Bible from St. James Church. You'll recognize that name as the place where the 151st hauled bricks for their hut chimneys in their knapsacks (a distance of maybe one mile). At some point between Saturday's extraction from the tractor shed that would make Fred Sanford proud, and getting to the event on Sunday evening we flipped to the births, deaths, and marriages section, and realized it belonged to the parents of this fellow from Plattsburgh, NY:

Lt. Col. Stetson of the 59th NYVI (http://www.nps.gov/anti/historyculture/mnt-stetson.htm)

Nice marker. I'm glad that book didn't end up in a landfill. I don't know how it got to Richmond, but it was nice to have it visit NY again.

[BillO'Dea]

Here's Conan doing what he does best during dinner, in a photo by Sean Willard 151st NY
http://rugglesrag.com/winter3.jpg
"That's the best damn dog the regiment ever stole!"


Bill O'Dea
Saltboilers mess / 122nd NY

[Charles Heath]

Look how that wundermus dog has trained that soldier to sit, speak, and serve him food. Man, the things humans can do these days!

[GrumpyDave]

I recall sitting in the CC's hut and hearing this small far away voice, "Mr. Beasley? Mr. Beasley!" So, I righted myself and went outside. The cries grew, louder and louder, "MR BEASLEY! MR BEASLEY." Someone had turned the latch on the Guard House and locked them in to a man. I was very happy to open the door to a laughing Rob Murry and, "Let out the Guard!"


Is there any private I didn't yell at for not wearing their blouse?

Capt. Wiles, Co K

[Johnny Lloyd]

You know, in retrospect... I could get addicted to non-battle focused events over tacticals/skirmishes. I kept referring to the event to my coworkers that asked about it as "the holodeck" like on Star Trek because it is about the closest we can actually come to the 1860s. I am now finding this as more fun and educational than battle-focused events. At a non-battle focused event, we can take the time to enjoy fellowship with people we sometimes rarely see beyond the internet, share knowledge and "get into the moment"... even realistically play a character that might have truly exsisted in the 1860s.

There was a time when I thought the action of the battle was the most fun and educational, but I fully understand now that my mind's eye needed to actually see the material culture/everyday lives of these extraordinary people that lived in this period of history to flesh-out the whole story.

I laughed, I froze, I greatly enjoyed... and above all, I learned.

-Johnny

[PvtSmythe]

Being on the event committee, this event reminded me of what its like to watch your children grow up .

I had he priveledge of commanding Co. H, but the real credit goes to Lt. Sanders, Sgt. Gritman, the the NCO's and of course the men of Co. H! You really did bring the 151st back to life.

Peter Smith
(aka C.C. Billings Co. H)

[Matt Woodburn]

Johnny,

To your last post, all I can say is, "Now, you're learning boy-o!"

[LindaTrent]

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Christian Commission. Today I received a letter from my dear husband. He wrote:

"Dear Martha,

Did you receive my letter saying I am in the regimental hospital? I am suffering from chronic diarrhea and the surgeon decided I should spend some time with lighter duty and better diet to recover. The Christian Commission men visited and brought some canned peaches which were a welcome delicacy. They held services to-day and I was surprised how few attended. Dr. Steinert was not even there. I will be glad when Dr. Cotes is back. Dr. S is from Albany and don't know any of the men or their families from before the war like Dr. Cotes. I am writing Leonard's wife because I don't know how to address him. I guess he is out of the hospital but still in Tennessee but I don't know where. Your letter sent on Feb 1 is the latest I received. The box has not come yet. The mail seems slow. It used to only take about a week and nothing has changed. The mail is still coming on the cars that are running regularly. It has been cold with only an inch or two of snow. Write me any news of home or the family. What is Uncle George doing these days? Have you heard from any of the family in Maine? This letter will go out at 2 o'clock with the Christian Commission agent so must close. Write soon with any news.

Yours

Theodore Bragdon."

Sirs,

I do know that you are aware of the fact that these are the last words I will ever hear from my Theodore, as I have received word of his death. Thank you for making certain that the letter made the mails.

Y.O.S.,

<s>Mrs.</s> Widow Theodore Bragdon

[Johnny Lloyd]

Johnny,

To your last post, all I can say is, "Now, you're learning boy-o!"

It was all due to a strong dose of your "Jellied Eel" concoction whilst worshipping Vesuvius, Mr. Woodburn...

IN VINO VERITAS

:rolleyes::p

Huzzah! LOL

Thanks- Johnny

[MassVOL]

Mac,
Thanks for the kind words. I was just doing my part besides I made a buck off of ya in the fight. Though at one point every time I heard Fatigue call I just put my blouse on and waited for the First Sergeant, it was like my own personal drum call.

MAKE WAY FOR THE VICTOR LAROUCHE!

Reading the quotes from the event has caused me to bust out laughing at my desk on multiple occasions. Even ones I did not hear directly I can guess as to the context and get a smile from.

I also found out that when the officer of the day approaches the guard shack accidently and the guard calls out the Guard if you swear loud enough from inside the shack the rapid order to stand down is usually forth coming and the officers wander off elsewhere. And that if you loose something people will look in the strangest places rather than admit that they probably lost it in the sinks and make the walk of shame down to look.

This was hands down the best damn event I have gone to in 15 years of doing this and would fly to Buffalo to be part of a work party to set it up to do it again in 2010.

[Coatsy]

I can neither confirm nor deny that I was also in the guardhouse when it was mysteriously locked from the outside. I blame it on Troy. He was the last one in before it locked.

[Spinster]

Could have been one of those Copperheads. I hear tell there was one about.

[Charles Heath]

I can neither confirm nor deny that I was also in the guardhouse when it was mysteriously locked from the outside. I blame it on Troy. He was the last one in before it locked.

Herb,

Years from now, when some feller lays blame on the usual suspect for this act of Guardhouse Bondage, and then further embellishes it with the "burning of the guardhouse at Winter 1864," Mr. Beasley has two stalwart witnesses who can provide an alibi even if he was only 12 feet away at the time. Naturally, I'll have to keep sending Mr. Holmes and C.C. Billings a trifling amount of funds each month by express money order until that time....

It's the weekend after the event, and I suppose Scott, Lanky, Dennis, Craig, Coldfoot, and crew are on site knocking down the tentage, locking the huts, and boarding up the windows. At least the huts are slated to get used again during a COI in mid-April.

Over on the OTB Forum, we've been making jokes about who had the best excuse for missing W64 2008. ;)

[Kevin O'Beirne]

My only suggestion is that there were 1 day out of the 4 in which we did not do anything at all (similar to a church/holy day) so we could try to keep ourselves occupied in a period-correct way and enjoy fellowship with fellow authentics. Boredom, followed by great and rapid activity, then more boredom, is the way of a real warzone.

Wait, is John suggesting that the event should have been LONGER?! :cool:

[Kevin O'Beirne]

It's been a full week to the hour since I got home and I'm finally getting around to visiting the AC Forum to read this thread. I'm glad to see that, so far, the reviews are all good. Frankly put, I've worked on a lot of events and so have the others of the event committee, and I doubt that any of us have worked as hard to stage an event as W64 2008. We felt, "If this is the last one, let's try to make it the best one." I hope we did.

First off, the weather cooperated. Those who think W64 2008 was cold obviously haven't attended a prior W64. :) The first two days saw daytime temps about 20 or 21 deg F, and nighttime lows at about 10 deg F, and the second two days saw daytime highs about 29-30 deg F, and nighttime lows of 20 deg F. Winds were generally quite mild at 5 to 10 mph. It snowed the day before the event started, but only about an inch or so; the biggest complaint is that the weather left the camp and its environs coated in ice, so every time one set foot on the ground it was "slip-slidin' away" time. You got to the point that you simply accepted going flat on your butt in front of many other men and, because everyone else had it happen to them, no one was laughing about it after the first day. Compared to past W64s, this weather was great and we only limited one planned activity (the final march out) due to weather and the environment (the trail on which everyone entered the site was the way we were all going to exit it togehter, but on Sunday morning it was just too slippery and we were afraid someone would get seriously hurt trying to negotiate the "luge run" behind the camp and then another half-mile of ice).

Second, the men attending W64 were, that I could tell, of a common mindset, and that mindset was just what we wanted to achieve the goals we set for the event. Everyone came with the right attitude and with a good commitment to achieving the event's goals relative to first-person.

Third, the folks who supported the event via scenarios or other hard work were excellent and committed. When you've got folks like Mike Schaffner and Scott Biggar (both clerks) working for weeks before the event to prepare appropriate books and paperwork; when you have folks like Pete McCarthy and Joe Caridi training for months before the event to present an extremely realistic period boxing match; when you have first-rate civilian portrayals; and many others... well, that's the type of folks we need to bring off an ambitous event like this.

Fourth, the event committee was about eight guys who all worked their tails off for two years, the final year of which saw immense effort and labor. I wish now that we'd counted how many workdays there have been at the site just for this particular version of W64. Even though it was the last W64, we were still building new structures at the site for it. Back in December at a workday I commented, "Guys, if this event portrays the same regiment, the same two companies, and is on the same site all the time, why does each edition of it get more difficult to produce and require more work? Shouldn't these be getting easier as we go along?" I guess they get more difficult as we learned from each event and tried to make the next event better. :) The W64 2008 event committee was:

Scott Schotz (event coordinator/grand poohbah)
Pete Smith - a "machine" who did numerous one-man workdays at the site, solo; and he lives 50 miles from the site, too.
Jim "Coldfoot" Stauder
Jeff Henion
Mike Ryan
Ron Roth
Craig Schaeffer
Dennis Schank
Kevin O'Beirne

I wanted to get those names out there, because some folks saw mostly Scott and me (I served as the main communication conduit for the event), and most of the others worked their butts off very quietly, and deserve the recognition their efforts demand.

We hope to get an event report together for "Civil War Historian" magazine. In short some of the "stuff" that was planned at W64 included:

Wednesday

Check in and receive sutler tokens and a furlough pass (ending today) after which particpants were escorted into camp along a half-mile long winter trail designed to get them into first-person as they went.

Guard duty in camp and along the trail. Guard duty was 24 hours. Sentinels were posted from 6:00 a.m. until about 10:30 p.m. each day, after which guards were reduced to a one-man roving fire watch. Guardhouse was manned 24 hours throughout the event.

Everyday:
Guard duty in camp.

Sanitary facilitiies included slop buckets in the huts at night (emptied in the morning) and enlisted and officer sinks. Now there's a slice of winter life!

Laundresses - started the event with three, but one got the flu and had to leave. These were Renee Stauder, Terre Lawson, and Renae Roth. They mended and washed; too bad the clothes hung outdoors froze on the line.

US Christian Commission - Well-done by Charles Heath and Steve Tyler (I know I know... some of you are still scratching your heads seeing Charles as a man of God...), these fellows kept open a USCC pavilion where men could write letters home (yes, they were actually mailed during the event) and receive some good Christian words. Well-done!

Cookhouse - Three cooks (Coldfoot Stauder, Ryan Willard, Sean Willard) worked their butts off to keep us fed. No, the food wasn't great and at first it wasn't in much quantity (yes, it was indeed planned that way!), but these guys did the thankless job of serving up semi-digestable slop each day.

Fatigue Details - See those stoves? See that wood? Wanna stay warm? This alone was a huge undertaking.

Medical - Noah Briggs reprised his portrayal of the 151st's assistant surgeon for the third time, and this time Hank Trent was his patient with the chronic quicksetep; the man Hank portrayed died of that disease in camp a few days after the dates we portrayed.

Military Procedure - Each day saw life by the fife and drum, military routine, and three-times-a-day roll calls, plus guard mounting ceremony in the morning and dress parade in the afternoon. We owe a lot of thanks to Shawn and Zach Parsons for providing first-rate (and then some) field music that made all this possible. You don't know how much field music adds to an evnet like this until you attend an event without it. An event like W64 without good field music is like a rock band without a bass player--you may not notice it as the lead instrument, but if you don't have it, the bottom has dropped out.

Clerks - With expert clerks who do their research and practice their craft with a great attitude like Mike Schaffner and Scott Biggar, this event had some more great "bass players". They added much to the routine of the camp in a very historically correct manner. Scott B even ably took dictation once when I rattled off a letter to "General Morris" to him on Saturday morning! These guys know their "army stuff" like few others I've ever met and were a real benefit to this event.

Each morning the Officer of the Day and Sergeant Major inspected the huts, kitchen, and sinks. Eeewww....

Sutler - Ha! There was none! We hope that we faked out a few folks by handing out 151st NY sutler tokens at registration check-in! (Seriously, after Charles Heath's over-the-top sutler impression at W64 2006, we figured it was useless to attempt to portray a sutler at this event; we almost had a substitute sutler, but that fell through so we went back to our original plan of erecting the sutler's tent and arbor with a "Gone to Washington, back in 2 weeks" sign, and never intended that we'd have a sutler at this edition of W64.)

Conan the Camp Dog - Chris Piering was asked to bring his pooch as a camp mascot, and Conan the Camp Dog was utterly first-rate. He even accompanied Chris to guard mount and parade and stood next to him at attention.

Thursday

Slow day in camp. Mail call in the morning included boxes from home and so much mail that the USCC kept almost half of it back for a mail call two days later. The mailbag was literally so stuffed full that I could barely get it closed.

Friday

We mokeyed up the days: At this event, Friday portrayed Sunday, etc. When the event was over, everyone thought it was Tuesday and it was actually Sunday...

The USCC had a very good, from-the-period worship service (and cut-down sermon: the sermon was 20 or 25 minutes long, and Steve Tyler said that it was only one-third the length it was when presented to a real Civil War regiment; ouch!). I believe that we had someone reading the Articles of War someplace too, but because I attended worship service, I didn't really find out.

Had Sunday inspection (aka "knapsack inspection"). We've wanted to do this at W64 since the first one in 2000, but the weather never let us; we finally got one done. No, we did not find any spirits or bottles in the men's knapsacks--thank goodness! At the dress parade that preceded inspection, orders were read to the battalion that a detail was to go on picket that evening, and another detail was to go to the brigade provost guard.

Picket - Of course, the "provist guard detail" were the Rebs--I hate planning picket duty that doesn't have opposing forces. The "Rebs" were contacted privately pre-event and asked to bring CS kit which was secreted in a building onsite; the provost detail marched out of camp and into this building, and came out the other end as a company of Confederates. They started on the march to the picket site, which was more than a mile away from the camp; except for 300 yards along a modern country road and the one-time sight of some modern, oversided apple crates, the march route was through woods, meadows, and orchards. The marchers passed a huge brick "plantation" house as twilight drew on, and the Rebs set up a picket line along a frozen creek at a ford, with their outpost about 150 yards back in the woods. Twenty minutes after they arrived, so did a company of Yanks, who set up pickets on the opposite (house) side of the creek. First-pesron was maintained throughout the evening. About 7:30 p.m. a half-wit (portrayed by Hank Trent) out looking for a cat, with the half-wit's brother in tow, spiced up things on the Federal side of the line. This scenario was originally planned to be an all-night affair, but the evening before we wisely decided to pull the boys out at 10:00 p.m. (after six hours outdoors in 20-degree temps) and shuttle them back to camp in trucks. I think this was a good decision.

Saturday - a busy day

Foragers - When the commissary sergeant told me that we were out of food, it was time for action. We dispatched Lt. Carlin (Pat Craddock) in command of a detail of 20 forages to get food from the "plantation house" we saw on picket the night before. The lads went more than a mile back (this house was an actual 1850 home, and its outbuildings were a stop on the Underground Railroad in the 1850s and '60s). When the foragers arrived, they found three civilians in the home who were Unionist in sympathy; the matron even cried. The civilians had a safeguard from the Union army, but the foragers replied that it protected them only from unofficial foraging. The men went through the whole house and outbuildins (well, that was sort of beyond what the event committee planned, but the property owner was cool with it, thank goodness), and liberated 50 lbs of potatoes, many cabbages, onions, etc. and a 105-lb half of pig with the hooves still on. They chopped up a post or small tree at the manion (oops, another exceess we didn't plan for, the the property owner was cool with it too) and had to carry that huge side of meat back over one mile over icy paths. Bully!

Boxing Match - Pete McCarthy and Joe Caridi did a bang up job, literally, portraying a period boxing match. This was exceedingly common in Union Army of the Potomac camps in the winter of 1864; in 15 years of reenacting this is the first time I've seen anything like it. They did it by period boxing rules iwth pre-arranged referee and announcer, and they didn't pull punches--literally. Ouch, that's gotta hurt! Bully job!

White Star Saloon - Doug Cubbion and his wife, plus the Terri and Doug Oakes, and Brian Swartz, all of the Living History Guild, have a heck of a fine portrayal as a period traveling saloon and gambling establishment. They attended W64 for its last night and made the evening memorable.

Sunday

The event ended with an announcement on Saturday at parade that on Sunday (portraying Tuesday) the regiment would go to a corps review for Generals French and Meade.

*****

This is what we planned and did. It does not, however, convey how the men carried it off. It's just plans on paper until the men make 'em happen in style.

Okay, that's way longer of a post than I planned.

[Johnny Lloyd]

Wait, is John suggesting that the event should have been LONGER?! :cool:

Uh... well it is certainly better than 14 months over again "fighting the bedouin tribes in the hot sands of Arabia" as I've done already, sir.

;) -Johnny Lloyd

[sustudent]

Something that struck me was how much it sucked to be tall in the army. I kept smacking my head in the cooler hut, let alone that I took up one whole bunk for myself (Sorry Gents). Also, I learned that my overcoat is too large to fit in the straps. Oh, and I learned that a man can get in trouble even when he is sleeping in his bunk where he is supposed to be (again, I apologize to all the boys woken up in the search for John Roddy). Finally, I learned that guard duty is more fun when you do it with a man who is used to fighting Apaches, Comanches, or some other "ches". It was a great excuse to skip some college classes, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Regards!
"John Roddy " Co. K

[ley74]

Alex:

Just remember, Conan did not point you out. It did make for a great period moment (for the rest of us, that is).

[sustudent]

Ley,
I owe at least 15 minutes of sleep to that dog. In Fact, on guard duty, he was the best thing since not being locked inside the guardhouse.

[Bill]

Something that struck me was how much it sucked to be tall in the army.

Regards!
"John Roddy " Co. K

Alex,

You are, without a doubt, the largest person I've ever seen in such a small place! Thankfully, we had one no-show in the Cooler Hut, so you could have a bunk to yourself. I think sharing would have been pretty well out of the question!

Seven of us and a dog in that little hut was indeed a unique experience. One morning, I found myself putting on Sergeant Peck's coat and he was already wearing it.

Many thanks to Garr Gast, Tim Czerow, Bill O'Dea, Chris Piering, Mike Schaffner, and Alex Stow for making Winter '64 a truly memorable experience. By the way Guys, sorry about the Saturday night sauna. (Real time) It's not pretty when the fire bug, in the bottom bunk, gets cold.

[Kevin O'Beirne]

It's kind of funny how the termperature can be that different between the top and bottom bunk. On the last night in quarters, Capt Grumpy Dave was feeding the stove in our quarters and feeding it well--I was roasting on the top bunk. All night, the most cover I used was a blanket once up to my waist. The next morning, Cap'n Grumpy was asserting that "when the stove went out completely about midnight, man, did it get darned cold in the hut!" I refused to believe it, because at no time during that night did it seem cold or even comfortably cool on my perch near the roofline. Maybe it was all the snoring from Lt. Schank (immediately below me) and Lt. Ryan (to my right), who kept the chainsaws buzzing at night. :)

[Hank Trent]

I discovered that if you kept the door to the dispensary stove closed, most of the heat radiated to the left and right. The icy floor was thawed and almost dry on either side of the stove while there was still ice by the bed. But if you left the door open, it radiated most of the heat out of the end of the stove right over the bed. Oh, yeah! Unfortunately I didn't discover that until the second night.

The other thing that surprised me was how much warmer I was outside, as a healthy idiot, compared to sitting or lying in the dispensary as a sick person, even though I actually had more layers of clothing in the dispensary. It was surprising how much heat even walking slowly generated, compared to being still.

Hank Trent
hanktrent@voyager.net

[Johnny Lloyd]

Hank...

Darn good act at W64. I didn't want to look at your cryin' momma as we were taking the food from ya'll.

Uh... it WAS an act, right?? Pretty real actin' to me, though...:p

Thanks- Johnny Lloyd
(aka- the Irascible and Cantankerous Pvt. George Leichtman, Co H, 151 NYSV)

[BillO'Dea]

Three more of Sean Willard's shots
http://rugglesrag.com/wpe777.jpg

http://rugglesrag.com/wpe778.jpg

http://rugglesrag.com/wpe776.jpg

Bill O'Dea
Salt boiler mess / 122nd NY

[Bill]

It's kind of funny how the termperature can be that different between the top and bottom bunk.

Kevin,

Yeah, it sure is. I was sleeping on the bottom bunk near the door of the Cooler Hut. At some point, in the middle of the night, I woke up shivering and shaking like a dog sh*ting razor blades. The fire had gone out and I resolved to fix that situation. I'm a fire bug and had a bag full of sap wood and unlimited firewood. This was not a good combination. (At least not for the three guys sleeping near the stove.) My plan was to put enough wood on the fire to keep it going until morning. Needless to say, my plan didn't work very well. All the wood caught fire at once and it got a little warm in the back of the hut. Tim Czerow disappeared into the night, not to be seen again until dawn. Chris Piering jumped up, thinking the hut was on fire. Poor Garr Gast was the last to make an escape from the heat. Leaving the door of the hut wide open for a half hour got the temperature back down to reasonable levels.

In my defense, the other three inmates of the back of the hut, O'Dea, Stone, and Schaffner all slept right through the excitement. I'd guess they were glad someone kept the stove burning overnight.

[JustRob]

Between Corporal Jonah and Sergeant Moustache, I'm proud to say I had a hand in at least two nicknames for the weekend.

That sort of thing happens when forced to learn new names for folks you already know.

I did not, however, have a hand in nicknaming Hank Trent, Blinky. The boys in the Pine Cottage who drew Guard duty the first morning and had to contend with him get credit for that one.

[nycraig28]

Talk about your temp. difference between bunks, ask Sgt. Major Schotz.
One minute I heard " Craig, the fire's out ", The next comment I heard was
" no more wood ". Geez, make up your mind, Schotzy ! Glad you all had a
good time.

Regards,
Craig Schaeffer 151st NYVI
aka... Qm. Sgt. Charles Wall

[Kevin O'Beirne]

For the past week and a half, particularly at night, I am deeply aware of and grateful for:

1. My home maintaining a constant, comfortable temperature without constant labor to feed the furnace.

2. A nice, soft bed.

3. No snoring. :)

Ah, the stuff we normally take for granted...

[GrumpyDave]

1. My home maintaining a constant, comfortable temperature without constant labor to feed the furnace.

What! that wood stove worked just fine. LOL Breathing when you are sleeping is important.

2. A nice, soft bed.
Ok, maybe some more straw.

3. No snoring.
There was a professional in the Officers Quarters. He had both duration and volume.

[Kevin O'Beirne]

snoring.
There was a professional in the Officers Quarters. He had both duration and volume.

The professionals were Lt. Jewell and Lt. Sanders. Others were amateur snorers compared to those two. Jewell's buzzsaw was right below me at W64.

[GrumpyDave]

Winter of 64 participants should check the yahoo group for some important information! Kiev, PM me.

[Horace]

I kept a diary during the event on loose sheets of paper. It was so smeared and stained by the end that I had to transcribe it like an actual artifact. It took a little while.
Nothing in these entries is embellished, except references to situations effecting the 151st New York that didn’t actually occur in our camp. Even these extensions of the scenario felt tangible while writing them. I didn’t fake anything in the entries because I didn’t have to.
We assumed the identities of actual members of the 151st -to a degree -as a research and immersion tool. It was also to honor and echo them, to have their names spoken aloud again. Of my three hut mates -the real ones -two of them were dead by June of 1864.
I thank the organizers of this event for their untold efforts in building the camp and creating the complex web of life in winter quarters that the rest of us were able to breathe life into.

Feb. 18th, 1864
First night back from furlough. It’s about 10 degrees. Hut’s warm enough with the fire. We now occupy an old reb camp in fairly good condition. Drew straw. Hoisted it on to a tree limb and weighed it. The kid guarding it took his job a little too seriously. Wouldn’t let us take extra. It’s straw for the love of God.
Fell on the ice twice carrying straw. Lost a wrister that was in my pocket.
Somewhere in camp someone’s playing a penny whistle. It offsets the fifers toodling that army noise.
The wind swells and wishes through the trees. It tries to make our roof flap. Put another log on the fire. Outside: crunching footsteps, laughing, yelling, coughing.
Griswold’s snoring lightly in the bunk. Boots is on guard. Eggenweiler’s not here. I’m alone by the fire.
Earlier today 1st Sgt. Gritman entered the hut, crouched on the floor with his little notebook and asked “Who wants to go on guard tomorrow?” I made the mistake of being the one looking at him when he asked. “You do.” he said. I’ll be there all day tomorrow, I imagine.

Feb. 19th, 1864
Guard duty as of 9:00 A.M. Eight men in a 12’ x 12’ commandeered tool shed with some bunks nailed into the walls, except during guard relief when there are twelve of us in here churning around until the next four filter out into the snow.
Later now. By a miracle I was relieved of “an hour on and two off” ‘til 9:00 A.M. tomorrow. I’m back in our hut, where I’ve witnessed another miracle in the form of a box from home. I knew what alot of it would be since I helped to assemble it back in Royalton. There were warm clothes and most importantly food of a citizen nature to offset the army slop, as well as all the little things that make it worth the wait. Mail came, but nothing for me.
Improvements are being innovated around our quarters -shelves, door latch & c. One fellow hammers while the other three of us hold the whole hut.
Geese flying overhead so close that Eggenwiler wondered if we might hit one with a rock and cook it.
Can’t find my wrister. Griswold has a theory that as I lost it drawing straw, it probably fell into the pile and is now in someone’s mattress tick. We checked his tick and mine. That narrows it to about 70 others...
The regiment had parade today. We were read a letter sent to the regiment from a judge back home about our “victory” at Mine Run. He should have been there. He wouldn’t have bothered to write.
On guard, you spend two hours in the guard shack getting just comfortable enough to be rousted out into the snow for an hour, then back to into the shack for two, then back out again. While out there for the hour I just think of things to think about, then I wait to think about them while I try to think about something else. Eventually I’ve forgotten about the first thing I thought of to think about, so I try to remember what it was. This eventually puts me in a trance. After a while I see the corporal of the guard coming, and that gives me something to do. At Mine Run, guard corporals found sentries frozen to death out there, though none from our reg’t. They shortened the time on sentry to 1/2 hour after that. Whoever requested to take my place on guard detail must have had an angle on some sort of racket going on in there. I can’t see any other reason.
I’ve found that stoking the stove in the guard shack is an opportunity for any number of comments regarding sisters, sweethearts, & c. “It’s too long to go in.” & c.
The officer of the day approached one of the sentries when he was out today, asked him if his weapon was clean, then asked to inspect it. The sentry handed him his rifle. This was bad. It was a trick, of course. Another sentry was tricked on the same shift this way. It was taken seriously. We, the rest of the guard, were ordered out of the shack while the sergeant blew them up for about five minutes. He said it was a capitol crime in the army, technically -all very dramatic. The first sentry who’d been tricked argued vehemently that the regulations say that you are supposed to hand your weapon only to the officer of the day & c. He was probably right but that, of course, only made it worse. No one was held for trial, the “offenders” had to stand sentry an extra hour, and things quieted down. We are often squeezed between two or three rules which contradict each other, and the devil take the hindmost. I honestly think the whole goal is to keep us confused.
It’s late now, after taps. Everyone in the hut is asleep but me. I’m writing on the lid of my box, keeping a candle lit so I can see the words, but I have it next to the fire so I can blow it out quickly and appear to have been asleep if an officer should knock. Occasionally I hear someone crunching around outside, hoping they don’t come knocking on our door. It’s not likely to be a welcome visitor at this hour. I try not to move as I write, the shadows will give me away to those prowling owl provosts.
At night, when one is walking the company streets (or sliding down them at this season) all sorts of crazy elongated shadows dance through the glowing canvas roofs of the huts. It’s a weird and beautiful sight.
I like Captain Bowen, the battalion commander -in part because we rarely see him around. Early in the war the officers mixed with us frequently -not anymore.
We have managed to steal and hide enough firewood, far more than the ration. Griswold, the recruit, was first from our mess to arrive and started bringing it to the hut without knowing there was a ration and somehow he wasn’t stopped. Most everyone was returning from “ship over” furloughs, so the camp was in confusion. I guess that there was no guard on the wood for a while. Griswold just went whistling along to the pile and back with load after load. About two minutes after we’d hidden all the extra wood under our bunk and disguised it, I was in here alone when hut inspectors came through. I tried distracting them with conversation. I was gong to offer them biscuits from my box from home but remembered that it was also under the bunk, in front of the wood. They looked at the pile in the corner and asked if we’d received our wood ration yet. I looked grim and said that we hadn’t. They said we’d get one. We didn’t. We’re better off than others who did. C’est la guerre.
One part of you is always cold, and another too hot when you’re near a fire in February around Brandy Station. With feet -the most important item- I can feel the warm and the cold in them moving around like air bubbles as I try to get both of them warm at the same time.
Most of our wood is pine, but we have some nice square cut chunks of oak to throw in when we are sleeping. It burns much better and makes better coals. It also probably means that someone else around here had their house torn apart.
I hear banging and creaking outside. It occurs to me that we should wear blankets over our heads if we sit up at night. It would obscure our profiles from the outside. We should try an experiment and send someone out after dark to see how we can disguise our features from the provosts. A pine bough shebang over the canvas would be a good idea. There’s a big stack of it near the woodpile. I’ll mention it to the boys tomorrow.
The geese pass over the camp so low that it seems, when you are inside of the hut, that you could climb on top of it and catch one as they fly by. They are not unlike us: blindly and cheerfully moving forward in formations, making a monotonous but compelling noise; suddenly passing by, then forgotten. Some of them even get shot, but I’ll lay that their odds are better than ours. Of course, the geese mean that Spring is coming. Soon we will move too. It will go from very cold to very hot. No one but us really knows what we do while we wait or when we march. It’s hard to explain to anyone else, and even we forget quickly.

Feb. 20th, 1864
For the second day now, I’m not on the rolls. It looks like when I got out of guard duty I was lost in the books. The longer I wait to tell the 1st Sgt., the more explaining I’ll have to do. I’ve decided to wait until after fatigue duty to mention it to him. All the “B”s are there now (except me)...if our company had fallen in (for roll call) with muskets they’d know I wasn’t on the rolls (due to anyone not having been called still being at shoulder arms at the end of roll call), but we didn’t so they don’t.
Wrister still missing. There was a completely worn out pair of socks in the hut when we occupied it. I meant to set them aside to cut into a new pair of wrist warmers, but the boys had already sent them to the laundresses to repair, as a joke. I will go see them when I have time, ask them to just make them into wristers. They should be relieved.
I just passed the musicians out in the street. I asked them what they were about to call. They said “Church”, so I had advance warning. I guess it must be Sunday. I told Boots. He’d heard that those not going to church had to be read the Articles of War. I could hear various ruses being concocted in the streets: “My minister told me I wasn’t allowed to attend the services of other denominations, sergeant.” & c. and so it was off to the Articles of War for them.
Boots had said he was going to the Catholic service, but he’s not Catholic. I said “Well, it is the one true religion.” “I thought we’d agreed that it was the Jews.” -I had argued the other night that all Christians are Jews if they all worship one -I thought for a second. “No, they’re the chosen people.” Either way, off he went. I think I’m somewhere between Episcopal and Communist. I hear that Tate over in Co. K is one of the latter. I’ve been meaning to ask him about it when no one’s around. I happened to be in the front corner of the hut when the door opened, the sergeant looked in, didn’t see me and shut the door again. No Articles of War for me. I don’t even know if anyone had to listen to them. I just know I wasn’t there.
I call Boots “Richmond”. He calls me “C.T.”, short for “On To Richmond” and “United States Colored Troops” respectively -a long story for later. I must be brief from here as we are ready to move in an hour. We called each other “Sinks” and “Ma’am” for a bit -yet another story. Suffice it to say that neither of us wanted to be stuck with either of those last two names so we agreed on the other ones before it was too late.
The musicians are larcenous scamps, just for the record.

Feb. 21st, 1864
Too exhausted to write last night. Marched out to picket, met reb pickets at a frozen stream. No shots fired. A little trading. They wanted food. We traded newspapers and essence of coffee for tobacco. Our feet kept freezing to the ground. We expected to be out there all night but a rumor that we would return at about 10:30 P.M. proved to be true. I became lost returning late at night with the detail. They couldn’t wake me for breakfast, brought me an extra ration of bread from the cookhouse. It was excellent soft bread they were serving all day. The rest of the day’s meals consisted of what they usually do: some form of liquid with lumps in it. It comes in three basic variations: grey, brown and green, with grey probably being the most common. Occasionally you can make out some cabbage.
I was determined to get more of that bread, so I bundled up in my great coat, wrapped a scarf around my face, moved through the food line, then went back as myself, saying I didn’t want any of the grey soup and could I please have two rations of bread. I managed three extra bread rations in toto, which was delightful with butter and jam from home.
Today I was sent out on a foraging detail. I suppose Mosby has gotten at the cracker line again. We halted at a house about 2 miles away. Civilians’ papers were in order, but one of them was almost arrested anyway for persistent complaints and chin music. There were also a displeased matron and some sort of idiot who kept cranking on a rattle. The lady of the house announced that she had signed the Overland Compact when we were all still getting off the boat. I don’t know what the Overland Compact is, but any sympathy I had for her evaporated with that comment. We found 1/2 a pig in the smokehouse, left geese and rabbits. We felt we should have done it the other way around as far as carrying weight. We also took part of their potatoes, carrots and some onions. On the march back, I heard a man behind me saying that he felt bad about taking the food. Another said he felt bad when he was hungry.
I rec’d a letter from my cousin -absolutely filthy and obscene. He sent me a religious pamphlet with French pictures pasted into some of the pages. I like the pictures well enough, but the detailed descriptions of his exploits with the local tricks was deranged. He is obsessed with someone named “Skinny Annie”.
Still trying to get the laundresses to give those old socks back. The head laundress is famous for her knitting and darning skills, which is a problem. She’s too good at knitting to just hand them over unfinished. I would have sorted out those old socks in thirty seconds with a pen knife.
Peeled potatoes with some of the boys -fine Irish singing. There was one plaintive song -the verses were about how a pint of Nelson’s blood wouldn’t do us any harm, then a little dram of gin wouldn’t do us any harm & c. The chorus was something about a rolling chariot, and how “we’ll all hang on behind.”
Wood detail came.
Just witnessed a grappling & pugilism match -a powerful experience. Cpls. LaRoche and Long of our company were the opponents. There have been a couple of pools going on it. To me, Long was more the “thrower” and LaRoche the “puncher”. It seemed clear that Long was going to win, but LaRoche managed to get in a series of kidney punches that sent Long reeling in the end.
There is a rumor that we are being sent into Brandy Station to guard wagons. We go where we are told and never know where or when.
About 8:30 o’clock now. I’m alone in the hut again. No one knows who will be in here at any time. Sometimes I open the door and there are six people, sometimes it’s empty. The boys next door have among them a fellow who can play a penny whistle really well. There are lots of songs coming from that hut, sung by all present.
We had parade today. Somehow I didn’t know about it. Either I didn’t hear the order at roll call or they knocked on the company huts and missed ours. I had five minutes to get into light marching order and jump to the end of the column as it moved to the parade ground.
Orders were read at parade that we will march tomorrow to yet another parade and review for Gen’ls French and Meade. This will mean a long and tedious day. We will stand for hours until the big bugs decide to prance by and then we’ll stand some more. Floating from the hut next door I hear
“Always remember the longer you live
the sooner you’ll bloody well die.”

Feb. 22nd, 1864
The fire went out during the night. I awoke frozen through. It couldn’t have been more than 20 degrees in here. I found a match, some heart pine, candle wax, and prayed as I built the fire up a little at a time. Griswold awoke and started splitting kindling on the hut floor. It took a while for any heat to be felt. I am finally warm enough to hold a pencil. The musicians aren’t even up yet.
Wristers still not finished. I would believe the rumors that the laundresses are Copperheads if the lady repairing them had not lent me her own knit sleeves until mine were finished, when I last visited. One of them seemed to take pity on me, gave me a hunk of soap they had just made. I have now also lost my cotton gloves. Embarrassing and dangerous.
Last night we were treated to a sort of traveling saloon and gambling enterprize. They seem to set up with official sanction, get the boys drunk, take their money at faro or something like it, and then they’re gone in the morning.
The hut next door was later jammed full of soakers bellowing songs and making pronouncements. I had to slip in to see what it was about. There was barely room to move. The songs kept coming, accompanied by slide whistle, bones and people just generally banging on things. It was sublime.
I hear that someone fell in the sinks drunk last night. Eggenwiler and Griswold sat up after we left the “Vesuvius Lodge” next door (inspired by it’s being an old Sibley tent and, I suppose, its frequent eruptions) and, in a whisper, debated the more precise points of drill in very imprecise states of mind, due to about 8 different bottles being passed around during the night. I went to sleep.
Later. We are packing for the Grand Review Hogswaddle for Blinky French and Snapper George. There was a hunk of that soft bread left laying on the bunk. I took a big bite and realized that it was, in fact, the soap the laundress had given me. I am packing everything I can bear to carry for warmth and food as the hut will likely be gone through while we are away, and there’s no telling when we will return.

[Rob Murray]

Berry,
Or Todd, whatever your name is:D Now you've gone and made me homesick. That is one of the best first person AARs' I have ever read. Took me right back to our "Emporium of Oddities". I felt like we had never marched off to Grand Guard.

Griswold and I were really discussing the "finer points of drill"? If that's the case, I need to get out more. We should have been talking about "Skinny Annie".

Proud to have portrayed
2nd Serg't. Conrad H. Eggenwiler
aka Serg't. Mustache

[Charles Heath]

Todd,

Excellent AAR! Best I've read in many years!

Hey, if only those old socks turned wristers could talk. Rumor has it you were one of the fellows who finally figured out the goodies in the trash pile (knapsack, shoes, cans, boilers, battered coffee pot, etc.) in addition to the scrap harness and collars were for you folks to use and take home if you wished. Good!

[Kevin O'Beirne]

Todd,

Great stuff, and with a good narrative style and period terms. Good job! I laughed out loud at this part,

I like Captain Bowen, the battalion commander -in part because we rarely see him around.

[Coatsy]

Heef,

Out of the trash bit by the Sgt. Major's tent the OCN snagged most of the boxes (to appease Vesuvius), two bottles that when cleaned out were in darn good condition, and two boilers. One man's trash is the another's gold mine.

I tried to get some good straps from the leather pile, but they were not what I was looking for. Oh well.

[Spinster]

There were also a displeased matron and some sort of idiot who kept cranking on a rattle. The lady of the house announced that she had signed the Overland Compact when we were all still getting off the boat. I don’t know what the Overland Compact is, but any sympathy I had for her evaporated with that comment. .


Sparky said that was likely THE most obscure thing he'd heard in awhile. :D

And while Mrs. Jools could not have legally signed said compact, she sure could claim that her father had done so, and thus that her family were "First Signers".

The Overmountain Compact, also known as the Wautauga Compact, was signed in 1772, some four years before the Declaration of Independence, and declared a particular section of the high Appalachians to be independant of the British Crown.

A separate government was formed, at a site near modern day Elizabethton, Tennessee. While the document itself does not survive, it included provisions for judges, a sheriff, and a clerk of court.

Later many of these same freemen "Overmountain Men" would muster in and march to Kings Mountain, soundly defeating the British in one of the pivotal battles of the Revolution.

A little known byway of history today--yet one that would have generated much pride of heritage during our period. As for who got off the boat when----lawsy, its a good thing I didn't pull out the ancestor who came over on the second Jamestown 'wife ship'. :D

[Johnny Lloyd]

Out of the trash bit by the Sgt. Major's tent the OCN snagged most of the boxes (to appease Vesuvius), two bottles that when cleaned out were in darn good condition, and two boilers. One man's trash is the another's gold mine.

I tried to get some good straps from the leather pile, but they were not what I was looking for. Oh well.

Herbus Maximus of Vesuvius:

I got a darn good pipe bowl from that same trash pile at Mr. Heath's suggestion to raid it for one after my original pipe broke.

Was that trash pile there just for raiding? Pretty realistic, as we reused 95% of everything (even trash sometimes) in the recent war to "fight the bedouins in the hot deserts of Arabia".

Thanks- Johnny Lloyd

[Kiev Thomason]

Herbus Maximus of Vesuvius:

I got a darn good pipe bowl from that same trash pile at Mr. Heath's suggestion to raid it for one after my original pipe broke.

Was that trash pile there just for raiding? Pretty realistic, as we reused 95% of everything (even trash sometimes) in the recent war to "fight the bedouins in the hot deserts of Arabia".

Thanks- Johnny Lloyd

I got a few buckels and some hardware from the pile .I am gonna clean them and make a W64 waistbelt for myself.I thought the trash piles were a great touch that we overlook in most garrison events.The AARs have been great I just had a ball up there.Thanks to all who helped the chariot along..so to speak.I think that I will have really hard time ever topping W64 as far as camp style events go.The friendships made and the small moments were a plenty.My favorite time the whole event was chopping up the food and singing in the company street.I have not sang Nelson's Blood in ten years...what a great tune.

Once again thanks everyone who worked so hard to make this event go!

[Charles Heath]

Johnny & Kiev,

The trash piles were Sparky's idea, and he started working on that notion before the end of Winter 1864 in 2006. One of the items in the trash pile by Sgt. Major Miserable's hut would have been quite familiar to sutler Erasmus Hopkins. Matter of fact, I paused for a moment to hear any possible echo of profanity emerge from that vinegar jug, but it was silent. They probably needed more tin cans, but then we get into that whole tin can debate. At least one period can was in the trash pile thrown over the old freight wagon axle located just uphill from the sinks. The potential for creativity was huge.

The camp was "salted" with a number of items, and the pipe bowls were a fun thing some of the boys found, and some did not. The bowls date from the mid-20th century, and are nice Pamplin Clays. The are not glazed, and I do believe they are actually seconds. More about that type of pipe bowl can be found here:

Pamplin Pipes (http://anthromuseum.missouri.edu/minigalleries/pamplinpipes/pamplinpipes.shtml)

Excellent reeds were readily available just downhill from the brush arbor where the boxing match and the traveling saloon were located. At least three of the huts had wire for reaming out the reeds, and some fine hemp twine (almost thread) was located thereabouts. Honey for breaking in the bowls could be had with a bit of trading.

Each hut was rich in something. Each hut was poor in something. Trading was possible. The secret compartment in Vesuvius was to the immediate left of the doorway. It was not opened until after the event.

[Spinster]

Ah Ha! Another abode with a secret compartment.

Mighty handy thing. Otherwise that surgeon (who was so worried about the laundresses and their possible consumption of fraudulent alcohol laden patent medicine) might have found something to confiscate.

But he didn't. Good thing he was a skinny feller. A larger man could and did fall through the secret door. We shared with him though.

:tounge_sm

[Johnny Lloyd]

Each hut was rich in something. Each hut was poor in something. Trading was possible. The secret compartment in Vesuvius was to the immediate left of the doorway. It was not opened until after the event.

I'll bite... "What was in the doorjamb of Vesuvius, Mr. Heath?"

Thanks- Johnny Lloyd ;)

[Charles Heath]

I'll bite... "What was in the doorjamb of Vesuvius, Mr. Heath?"

In this instance, the draconian Winter 1864 "Cone of Silence" shall remain unbroken...at least by me.

[Rob Murray]

There is that danged "Cone of Silence" again. If it would have been cracked, it would have saved me about an hour and a half of feeling nuts and running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Though I'm sure someone was having a good laugh at my expense.

[Johnny Lloyd]

In this instance, the draconian Winter 1864 "Cone of Silence" shall remain unbroken...at least by me.

Yep... the AC Forum tenet holds true still...

"Ask a stupid question...

Mr. Heath will giveth the smackdown..."

LOL ;) :p

Bully, sir... Johnny Lloyd

[BrianHicks]

Whatever it was... it can't surpass the numerous other items which materialized in Vesuvius. (remember the Jellied Eels? The Great Dog Bowl... and other uhhh... mysteries of the Vesuvius inhabitants?.

[Johnny Lloyd]

Whatever it was... it can't surpass the numerous other items which materialized in Vesuvius. (remember the Jellied Eels? The Great Dog Bowl... and other uhhh... mysteries of the Vesuvius inhabitants?.

MSgt-

Yes, the "Jellied Eel" certainly remembered me in the morning whether I wanted it to or not.

LOL- Johnny Lloyd:p

[Charles Heath]

I could tell the tin of quail eggs were a really big hit!

[Spinster]

Hey! I ate about half a can of those quail eggs.

But the G&H S fellers were swearing they were starving to death on slim rations, so I passed them on.

Didn't have box from home, but had plenty to eat anyway. Food that somebody else cooks is always good.

[Charles Heath]

Hey! I ate about half a can of those quail eggs.

Terre,

I'm glad someone tried to eat them. They've been hanging around since either Winter 1864 in 2004, or Reoccupation of Fort Sumter in whatever year that was. Even Erasmus couldn't sell them, but the USCC could sure give them away.

That salt, smoked, herring in the Pine Cottage had grown rather foul. It had what appeared to be amber oozing from the fish. Just judging from the cloth wrapper it was in when I found it at the bottom of a box, I'd say it was maybe 2003 vintage or earlier. It was too old to funk up the hut when the stove got hot, so that petrified fish was too old to do much with at any rate.

[Hank Trent]

I'm glad someone tried to eat them.

I had about eight or ten of them too, before passing them on up to the laundresses. The biggest surprise for me was seeing the label, opening the can, and discovering they really were quail eggs!

Hank Trent
hanktrent@voyager.net

[Spinster]

Actually, I want to know where Chawls got them.

I've never been one to eat, or relish, cold boiled eggs.

These were different. They'd have been better with hot sauce or vinegar, but the sutler had absonded and, like I said, no box from home for Vicey Compson.

[AZReenactor]

I think I was the only one in the G&HS hut who actually ate any of the quail egs. Can't say I found them very appetizing, perhaps with some salt, pepper sauce, or more hunger they'd be a little better. A good relish might have helped too.

I passed them on and last saw the can outside the musicians hut.

I was already pretty full of pickled tongue, sardines, and oysters by the time I got to the eggs.

[Charles Heath]

Actually, I want to know where Chawls got them.

I've never been one to eat, or relish, cold boiled eggs.

Terre,

Living here on the face of Mars, where, as you know, virtually no retail worth mentioning exists (other than mail-order and Ebay) we can buy a wide variety of international foods at Asian and Latino markets, and some of these grocery stores are approaching the 80,000 sq. ft. mark, which is the size of a small supermarket. They carry about three brands of quail eggs on a regular basis, as well as a number of items that would normally be found in the bulk foods section of food co-ops and organic stores, but for much less. A number of the older Food Lion stores have been converted, and if you happen to have a Trader Joe's in your area, they carry some seasonal items, such as large quantities of dried peach halves, pear halves, dried cherries, etc.

Approximately every two years, I'll post a source of supply blurb, and it behooves folks to check out the remants in Ollie's, Big Lots, Dollar Tree, Family General, etc. the Dollar General in Newfane happened to have a whole bunch of tasty keyless smoked oysters, which match the old Bumble Bee brand packaging, but are now sold under the Chicken of the Sea brand.

If you find a cache of Swanson's canned whole chickens, or something very similar, then please let me know. Let me tell you just how close Erasmus came to selling a few of the XL cans of chicken broth as the whole chicken, but stopped short of such sutlering cruelty. It would have been good for a laugh.

This reminds me it is almost time to make another couple hundred pounds of salt pork. :wink_smil

[MassVOL]

Since Newfane everytime i hear about dried cherries i think about cherry bounce....
The Pine Cottage reaked of smoked oysters for awhile but no matter how pleasing or horrid the odor created Corporal Jonah found a way to wash the smell away.

[Horace]

On the subject of the trash pile, I did make a killing. I ended up with the aforementioned 'battered coffee pot'.
The TSA went through my duffle bag on the return trip, and decided to repack all the tinware right on the top where it got smashed up nicely. The coffee pot now looks like it came from Picasso Tinworks. I will carefully tap out what I can and resolder the now leaky bottom. While I was inspecting the damage I noticed 'CH' scratched into the top of the handle. Thank you to whoever this might be.

[Spinster]

Okay, that's three that I know about.

Rob Murray arrived home with broken sauce bottles all over over the inside of his luggage, with glass and contents on his clothing.

TSA has a responsibility to repack luggage properly. In years of flying to events, this is the first time I've ever had a real problem-and I certainly have it this time--every handmade bandbox crushed, one shoe missing, one linen bedsheet missing, a number of 'small items' missing--of the sort that go flying when a bandbox gets shattered. That bedsheet was one of the things padding all the other items. Paper packing materials were discarded as well(think repro Harpers Weekly)

TSA also has a procedure for filing claims for such stuff. Its gonna be a pain in the tookus to do it, because they want a heck of a lot of proof of purchase, when most of this stuff was made or traded.

Still, its REAL obvious the Buffalo airport has a problem--and on more than one shift, as y'all boys left on Sunday, and I did not go until Monday evening. I also got there 3 hours before flight time, so its not like they did not have time to repack this stuff.

http://www.tsa.dhs.gov/travelers/customer/claims/forms.shtm

I mean really, how the do you break an inch thick hardwood dough bowl?

[Charles Heath]

The coffee pot now looks like it came from Picasso Tinworks. I will carefully tap out what I can and resolder the now leaky bottom.

Todd,

While you have the soldering iron out, run a thick bead around the spout, as that leaked about 1/3 of the way from the bottom. That coffee pot is about 15 years old and was made by the legendary tinsmith Butch Baker.

Not that I'd know anything about this....

[Johnny Lloyd]

Charles-

I hate to say it, but one reason why I didn't do any heavy raiding of the trash heaps is that I thought someone might want that stuff back. Even after you told me to do so when we spoke once at your quarters, I still didn't feel it was very Christian of me- primarily because I didn't want to take anything anyone might need back.

Sounds goody-goody, but I feel trusworthiness is an important tenet of the hobby... :)

But... on second-thought...

Darn, my moral code prevented me from gaining a few bully items. ;)

Thanks- Johnny Lloyd

[BillO'Dea]

I did hang the mule collar on the cooler hut, but never came up with anything witty for a sign. "Turn them out to die like mules" came to mind. I foraged some wooden barrel hoops thanks to Charles. One of the neater moments was looking out our door at the Sibley with the eclipse of the moon directly above it, clouds scudding by. The one time i wished I had a camera.

If anyone found a pair of mismatched gray shooter finger mittens I'd like to see them again.
Bill O'Dea
Salt boiler mess /122nd NY

[Horace]

Well, I stole stuff from the pile, then asked around if it was okay, with the intention of returning it if it wasn't. The fact that someone ran off with the harness leather that I'd cut off that tangled mass in the pile probably doesn't justify this.
For the record I'm missing one pair of filthy white cotton mittens which I'm not sad about and that grey wool wrister, which I am, if anyone sees it.

[sustudent]

Bill,
I gots yo middens! I found them in my haversack.

I had to laugh, about the trash heap. When I arrived at the cooler hut thursday night, I was surprised by the amount of junk on the walls, aka the horse collar. Also there was some general harness leather hanging about, I don't know if anyone brought it home. I would have snagged the horse collar, but as "loquacious lloyd" has said, I thought it was someone's decoration they were taking home.

Regards!
-John Roddy

[NoahBriggs]

Matter of fact, I paused for a moment to hear any possible echo of profanity emerge from that vinegar jug, but it was silent.

I heard a distant echo belch from the interior of the BAWCBAS*, sort of a seance-style EVP -

"Son, this here's a fine spoon. The patent finish will last a week, and if you want something bigger, fetch a damned shovel."

and

"Looks like Mosby stole all the snow around here."

Not to mention

"You look like a gambling man. Drink this. The label fell off, and I want to see if it's a patent medicine or that rat poison Capt'n Zeke ordered."

The wicker handle broke on the jug, and it was almost pitched until I learned Hopkins had no more need for it. It is now a part of the BlueMass Cat and Skinny Anne's Finest Kind Traveling Medicine Show and Whorehouse.

Peace.

------------
*Big-Ass Wicker Covered Bottle of Anti-Scorbutic.

[Charles Heath]

Noah,

I now wonder if Kiev remembered that particular vinegar jug from the Fort Donelson anti-scorbutic issue in 2006. At one time an excellent image existed on some website somewhere, and the appropriate photo caption would have been "Spew." Probably wasn't a fond memory, but I digress.

Matter of fact, I'd guess a small number of Winter 1864 2008 participants may remember that vinegar jug, the spoon, the venison, the mule feed, and the balmy weather at that Fort Donelson NPS LH. That old jug was a survivor, with the emphasis on was.

[JustRob]

That cherry bounce did come out real well.

Cherry Bounce (quick & dirty version)
Take a quart bottle and wash thoroughly.

Fill bottle about 2/3 with pitted sweet cherries. (For the last batch, I used frozen cherries, which were just fine.)

Add two tablespoons of superfine sugar, then fill the bottle with vodka or other clear spirit. Shake to distribute sugar.

Cork bottle and store in the refrigertor for a week or two (if not a month or two), shaking once a day. During this time, the cherries will start at the bottom of the bottle, then rise to the top, then sink again. If the spirit level gets low, add more booze.

Once the cherries have bounced, add as little or as much sugar as you'd like. I prefer less.

[Kevin O'Beirne]

Sort of weird he a single, four-day event in the cold can change your views about certain things, isn't it?

[BrianHicks]

Noah,

I now wonder if Kiev remembered that particular vinegar jug from the Fort Donelson anti-scorbutic issue in 2006. At one time an excellent image existed on some website somewhere, and the appropriate photo caption would have been "Spew." Probably wasn't a fond memory, but I digress.

Matter of fact, I'd guess a small number of Winter 1864 2008 participants may remember that vinegar jug, the spoon, the venison, the mule feed, and the balmy weather at that Fort Donelson NPS LH. That old jug was a survivor, with the emphasis on was.

Little known, but a true fact.... Kiev (aka 'Dutchy' at W64) made a Sick Call on Sat. morning, whilst holding his unbuckled trousers about his waste and complaining of bowels not too loose, yet not very tight... and he even had a sample of his stool droppings carefully preseved in his little tin bowl, which he tasted before the surgeon and noted to him that it had a strange consistency of late. Kiev repeatedly requested a small dose of vinegar to help set his stomach right. Too which Lt., Carlson (Pat Craddock) who was in attendance supervising sick call with the surgeon, had to fight to stifle a knowing grin and accompanying snicker. Fortunately for the Surgeon and his chronic patient, all Kiev was offered was an opiate derivative (two little candies of some sort).

[JustRob]

Was this the same jug that made an appearance at 69th NYSM @ 1BR?

[NoahBriggs]

Little known, but a true fact.... Kiev (aka 'Dutchy' at W64) made a Sick Call on Sat. morning, whilst holding his unbuckled trousers about his waste and complaining of bowels not too loose, yet not very tight... and he even had a sample of his stool droppings carefully preserved in his little tin bowl, which he tasted before the surgeon and noted to him that it had a strange consistency of late. Kiev repeatedly requested a small dose of vinegar to help set his stomach right. Too which Lt., Carlson (Pat Craddock) who was in attendance supervising sick call with the surgeon, had to fight to stifle a knowing grin and accompanying snicker. Fortunately for the Surgeon and his chronic patient, all Kiev was offered was an opiate derivative (two little candies of some sort).

Because Dutchy did not realize he was going up against an allopathic surgeon who has little faith in "folk remedies". Obviously he had the squirts, and vinegar did not seem to help in the past, so why give it now, when I could give him some opium pills, known to constipate and relieve the rectal spasms that go with a case of the the squirts?

The opiate derivatives were two peppercorns.

[Kiev Thomason]

Little known, but a true fact.... Kiev (aka 'Dutchy' at W64) made a Sick Call on Sat. morning, whilst holding his unbuckled trousers about his waste and complaining of bowels not too loose, yet not very tight... and he even had a sample of his stool droppings carefully preserved in his little tin bowl, which he tasted before the surgeon and noted to him that it had a strange consistency of late. Kiev repeatedly requested a small dose of vinegar to help set his stomach right. Too which Lt., Carlson (Pat Craddock) who was in attendance supervising sick call with the surgeon, had to fight to stifle a knowing grin and accompanying snicker. Fortunately for the Surgeon and his chronic patient, all Kiev was offered was an opiate derivative (two little candies of some sort).

Because Dutchy did not realize he was going up against an allopathic surgeon who has little faith in "folk remedies". Obviously he had the squirts, and vinegar did not seem to help in the past, so why give it now, when I could give him some opium pills, known to constipate and relieve the rectal spasms that go with a case of the the squirts?

The opiate derivatives were two peppercorns.

They look like coco puffs!I was wishing I had got the vinegar.I hate it and throw up when I smell it or taste it.This is fact!Which is why I wanted it.I know SICK .Anyways the opium pills(pepper corns) did the trick and I was told to stay off my feet and off duty for 4 hours:wink_smilGreat !Clark and I cleaned out the halls of our humble quarters and made the best of it.

Also the plate of steaming crap was bread pudding made with coffee and milk and some other items to make it real messy!:confused_

[Johnny Lloyd]

I know SICK. - Kiev T.

See also previous post:

9) "Dang, Dutchie...did you take a buffalo to the sinks?"

Does the buffalo need vinegar too???

LOL- Johnny Lloyd

[Charles Heath]

Was this the same jug that made an appearance at 69th NYSM @ 1BR?

Rob,

That was a similar, but smaller jug of antiscorbutic for the boys encamped around the Henry House that weekend. Who would have known dried peaches and stewed tomatoes went so well together in a stew? Seems like some of us practially lived on the battlefield that year, and both of the Bull Run events were highly enjoyable.

[GrumpyDave]

Who's registered for Glendale-Malvern Hill?

[Charles Heath]

Who's registered for Glendale-Malvern Hill?

Grumpy, you might want to ask that one on the W64 listserver, and then again on the GMH08 listserver. :tounge_sm

If it makes you feel any warmer, the OTB Forum forecast for the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station, AQ, is -54 degrees F today. :eek:

As a couple of last acts of the event, Mrs. Strauss received her letter from Dr. Steinert, and the good doctor picked up "his" box from home yesterday. I'm thinking this Mrs. Strauss in MD probably ought to mail the letter to the other Mrs. Strauss in NY. This event just keeps on giving.

Have a Happy Easter!