AARs

[Kevin O'Beirne]

Post them here. Howuzzit? Looking to read some. I-600 2002 was one of the best events I've attended, and am hoping that I-600 '07 was similar.

[trippcor]

To tired to post much but I felt the 2007 I600 surpassed both past events. Had a great time and based on what I read in the vistor book the spectators enjoyed the programs completely.

[Federal Bummer]

One of the BEST and the most physically tiring events I've ever attended.

Thank You to the men of first section, your professionalism made my job as your cpl much easier.

[Spongebucket]

This was my first time doing this particular program. My hats go off to the organizers, the paticipants...US, CS prisoners, civilians/cooks and the docents. This was one great event. I, personally, have never done an event of this type and caliber. There are many things to recall of personal experiences...but the most haunting was when we brought the prisoners into the cell casemates with only candlelight....and hearing the sound of the cell door creak as it opened and closed. The thought was, the men we put in here will be out in a few days...but thinking of those who went in in 1864.
Thank you men of 1st platoon and 1st Sgt Corbin for allowing me to serve as your sgt. you all did a mighty fine job.
Look foward to seeing you folks again...and to the CS officers....hopefully under better conditions
Joe Blunt
The Silent Sergeant

[Jen McGarrahan]

My husband and I traveled from Myrtle Beach, to Savannah just to see this event, the 4 hour ride was well worth it. All the participants were wonderful. We are new to all of this, my husband and son have participated in 3 events, while I have only done one so far due to work. We truly enjoyed this one, It's always very hard to imagine what things must have been like for the soldiers during that time, but because of events like these we have a better idea. Thank you so much for giving us that window to the past. A quick question, how often is the Immortal 600 portrayed, and how does one get involved? Ok so it's 2 questions.

[btwils]

I got home last night about 11:30 took a shower and hit the rack. I had a great time as a Pvt in 2nd Plt 2nd section. I traded a boiled egg for a pocket knife with a pow.I gave it back later. One of the high ligts for me was comming to the aid of a Brother MM. Even though no sooner did the food reach him then we tossed the cell's and it was taken.:eek: I would like to thank all the people who put on this event, and the ladies who cooked the food for the fed's it was outstanding and more then enough. Thanks once again

[MercyAngel62]

I had a nice weekend and it was good to see everyone. We were lucky to have such beautiful weather! Thanks to everyone who worked hard to make this past weekend possible. It was well worth the long drive!! :D

[Eric Tipton]

Liz, Photos! Excellent.

Quick note for now and AAR to follow later. Just walked in the door. The drive back was clear and pleasant compared to the sideways rain we encountered on the way down. The rest of the weekend, the weather was excellent. Thanks to everyone involved for one of the most unique vignettes of history I have had the privilege to portray.

Got to unpack the car. Looking forward to hearing everyone's perspective of the event.

[Eric Tipton]

Oh, and I vote for image #3. ;)

[MercyAngel62]

Actually, I ended up taking 118 photos on my digital camera this weekend! I tried to go through and pick out which ones looked best, so if I have posted some of the same ones, I apologize. Everything just looked so good, I had to take a picture of it. ;)

[BenjaminLDavis]

I had a great time as a Pvt in 2nd Plt 2nd section. I traded a boiled egg for a pocket knife with a pow. Even though no sooner did the food reach him then we tossed the cell's and it was taken.:eek: I would like to thank all the people who put on this event, and the ladies who cooked the food for the fed's it was outstanding and more then enough. Thanks once again
I was the man you were generous enough to trade with, even though I could see from your
face when I first suggested it that you knew if you were caught there would be hell to pay!

The trade, from the viewpoint of 1st Lt. Eugene Jeffers, 61st Georgia Infantry: they lined us
up to go to the sinks, and though I did not have to go bad, lined up to see the sun with water
bucket in hand. Just as I am going out the door, a man I know and trust slips me a folding
knife - "Get whatever you can for it," he whispers hurriedly/
We are waiting at the sinks, I look at the Billy nearest, he looks like a Christian man - I
catch his eye, and, without Mr. Runyon's observation show him the folding knife up my
sleeve. He gets a frightened look, that devil Foster has these boys right fearful of any
kindly acts towards us! "Trade for some meat?" I asks. "Ain't seen no meat," he says.
"Vegetables?" He shook his head. "What you got fer trade?" I asked. "I got an egg."
says he. "Two eggs? It's worth two eggs." says I. "I got ONE egg." he says.
I wasn't going to do no better, and if I pushed any harder we might well have nothing.
"Done," says I.
Than an officer came over, and I thought we would have no opportunity to pass over
our trade goods. He turned and went back where he come from, just as Mr. Runyon
turned us back for the prison cell. "Now, now, now!!" I whispered urgently, and we
quickly and smoothly made the exchange.
We had some other eggs, and were saving them for a feast later, but lost them all in
the search. We never made that mistake again - any food we got we hid in our empy
stomachs fast as we got it. God bless them fellers of the 157th New York kind
enough to risk hard punishment to help starving men!

This was an extrordinary event, and I have a ton of memories from it. Walking in thru the
ominuous portculus into we knew not what Friday night sent chills down my spine. A
special thanks to Matt Woodburn - he knows why! And to Cap' Mack fer lookin' out fer
us all weekend. And to Jason, fer the John Bell Hood impersonation - humor kept us
alive when hope was gone. And all them fellers that sang with me, that was special.
Even that damn Fitz - I will remember it all.
If this event is held again in a couple years, I would like to step up now and say I will
be there. Until then, I remain

Yer good and hungry comrade in unjust injurious imprisonment,
1st Lt. Eugene Jeffers, 61st Georgia Infantry, captured at Spotsylvania

[blackhattertuck]

Fellows,

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of my fellow POWs. You helped make this event the most significant event I've ever participated in. Thanks also to the federal garrison and staff for performing their work professionally and humainly (except for that $%*& Sat. night inspection!) Also a special thanks to "Fitz" for really drawing me into the experence with his first-rate impression, and to Capt. Carson, for keeping me fed.


Yours, &c

Adam Clark
aka
Lt. Paul Earle
aka
"Assistant chef and fire stoker" at Capt. Carson's Kitchen

[CornFedComrade]

Just a few thoughts from my experience as a POW at Ft. Pulaski:

I know we felt nothing of the sufferings the Immortals went through, but I think we got a small understanding. Although our stomachs were not always growling and shrunken from starvation, we quickly learned the importance of even a morsel of food. The comraderie felt was incredible from the very start. Everyone worked together to make sure everyone got a bite to eat. It's amazing where food can be found when nothing seems available.

I would like to thank the men of casemate 18 for a very memorable experience. I believe the brotherhood felt was reminiscent of how those men bonded to work together in order to save one another's lives in the worst of predicaments. Also, thank you to the guards who provided a little sympathy and sometimes friendly conversation (unfortunately, no cookies or rye bread).

2nd Lt. Joseph H. Hastings, 17th Tenn. Inf.
former POW at Ft. Pulaski, Georgia

[BrownBlanketMess]

I would like to thank everyone who participated in the event. This was one of the most memorable events I have been able to be a part of. Also to all of the men in casemate 18 and the rest of the POW's I thank you for making this event very special. The memories and experiances we shared are unlike any I have had, we all share a bond that no one but us will understand.

1st Lt. James Edward Cobb 5th Texas Inf.
former POW Ft. Pulaski, Ga.

Steve LaBarre
BrownBlanketMess
Hodge Podge Mess
Cornfed Comrades
WIG

[Paul Jerram]

From the moment I started reading "Immortal Captives" in preparation for the event, and having been a Federal guard at the last I-600, I knew this time around was going to be a special event and a unique experience. I elected this time to portray one of the imprisoned officers, Lt. Charles Frederick Crisp, an officer of English descent, who in fact was born only 40+ miles away from my own birthplace in England.

It began with walking in through the portcullis, across the parade field, the casemates looming in the bright moonlight. As we were moved into the casemates, I tried to stay close to my pards, two of which had already elected with me to be bunk mates together. I instinctively reached out my hand to "A.J. Barton's" shoulder and he reached back up and patted my hand ... perhaps sensing my own apprehension or just acknowledging that we were both there for each other. Finding our way to an open bunk (bottom - thank God, to spare these older bones of mine) I remember us banging on it in the darkness to claim it for ourselves. Candles flickered to life and our "home" and our cell mates started to come to life in front of our eyes.

So many moments will remain with me for so long from this event. The camaraderie between one another ... the willingness to share even just a morsel of food so that none went without ... the challenge it became to keep contraband (in my case, my treasured coffee ... and was it not good?) away from the guards ... the resentment deeply felt when cornbread was smashed in an inspection, leaving a long savored "meal", along with the pickled onions, just a handful of cornmeal again ... laying awake in the cold of the night looking up at the ceilings and behind at the barred windows over the moat and knowing that those same scenes had been looked upon by those men we were portraying ... doing whatever needed to be done to keep the guards from being suspicious when we "were up to things". I'll never forget Leroy Carson - Matt Woodburn - the "chief scrounger", and the two or three of us looking at the four legged table and saying, "it will still stand with three legs right? Of course it will - simple geometry!" Those fellows who were involved will know of what I speak ...

Standing at the casemate doors, looking out across the parade field, holding on to the bars with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, not having to "act" cold but being genuinely very, very cold. Experiencing a very odd sensation (and very real tears) when my daughter and her husband came to "visit" before taking the tour with her on one side of the bars and I on the other ... no hugs exchanged ... meeting and getting to know "Captain Mc", a genuinely caring and warm man, whose ancestor had been where he now was. "Hempstead! Murray! Hell no! We are bound for the Promised Land, we are bound for the Promised Land ...."

The list can go on and on for me. Many things are committed only to memory or to the pages of my journal for my family to perhaps read when I am gone. My thanks go out to our Federal guards, who worked without ceasing, for their part in the event ... and of course, to John Cleaveland, Rick Joslyn and the many others who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make this event happen for us - thank you all.

And last but not least, here's to my bunk mates - to my spooning partners A.J., and Robert, to Gangler, "The Admiral" (Albert Hudgins), to Joel and to all the others in Casemate 19. You will be fond memories of mine for many years to come.

This evening I reread part of Mauriel Joslyn's book, "Immortal Captives" and relived again, some of the events from this weekend through the words of those men who were actually there. Although we tried, we could never really do justice to the unspeakable things they suffered through in that place but I hope in our rendition of part of the story that we were able to honor them, and perhaps learn things about ourselves in the telling. And she captures it all for me when she writes,

"Here men sang through long winter nights to keep up the spirits of comrades who were on the verge of starving to death. Letters to and from home, journals, tears, laughter and conversations were all part of the life here. Their words echo down the decades, and the scenes they vividly describe can be imagined. In the now deserted casemate prison, a chill passes over the visitor. It is possible to reach back across a century and for one brief moment feel their presence". (Immortal Captives, by Mauriel Phillips Joslyn, White Mane Publishing Co., Inc., 1996 - page 281).

2Lt. Charles Frederick "Crispy" Crisp
10th Va. Infantry Regt.
Formerly prisoner, Fort Pulaski

[Kevin O'Beirne]

This event cranks up some very real emotions, and that's one of the reasons why it's a great reenacting experience: it provides it's participants some insight into historical events that occured on that very site. I'm sorry I missed this one. For Pulaski's a special place, and probably my "all-time favorite fort".

I hope someone had some pre-event lunch at the Crab Shack on Tybee Island and, while doing so, said hello to my pards Quincy Gillmore, James Wilson, and Patrick O'Rorke.

[C.R. Henderson]

Gents,
this was a truly moving and enlightening experience for me. I knew that we would have a great time but I didn't know that I would come away from it a changed person. Today I found myself eating less than I usually do and being grateful for every bite that I took. I ate a hamburger from McDonalds at work today and tasted that pickle in it and thoughts of "Crispy", Leroy, Capt. Mac, and Hempstead went through my head. Fitz resting and dying in his canvas shroud crossed my mind today as well as savoring every drop of my cup of coffee this morning. Even the ordeal of Lt. Cmdg. Hudgens losing both of his Columbus Depot gumcloths to confiscation made me chuckle. We depended on each other for everything this past weekend from support to food to the warmth of another individual through the night. Had it not been for the kindness, understanding, and compassion of certain members of the guard companies and officers, we certainly would have come out pickled! "Lt. Box" sure burns quick but he went hot and got our coffee ready in a hurry as well as the Parson's berry tea. Hopefully Lt. Crisp remembered to get the tea and sugar that we stashed. And I truly hope that all my brothers made it home safely. To the Federal officers and guards, thank you for making this a truly memorable experience- especially you Rick!

the ramblings of a former POW,
2Lt. A.J. Barton
Co. D 55th Georgia Vol. Inf.
until recently incarcerated at Ft. Pulaski, Ga.

[GWHall]

I've been home for almost 24 hours now (flights back were both on time, unlike the flights out there that were delayed for a total of 5 hours and made me late for the CS officer meeting) but I haven't typed anything up yet because I'm still absorbing and am not sure I've reflected on it all yet.

First and foremost, I enjoyed the experience and found it educational and enlightening. I'm glad the first time I ever saw the interior of Ft. Pulaski was just as those men saw it in 1864, being marched in as a prisoner. Standing outside the fort, waiting, then hearing a bugle from inside was a chilling moment. Then being marched in, marched to a dark casemate, and scrambling for a bunk. My greatest fear in those moments was the potential that I would be seperated from friends and messmates in confinement.

The moments and experiences ran the spectrum of fear, cold, boredom, and juvenile humor, and could change from one to another with short notice.

Saturday seemed to be one of the longest days of my life. Balancing between having nothing to do, but yet having to deal with the prospect of a Federal officer appearing tearing the casemates apart. I quickly ate my food in the morning when it was issued / scrounged / mysteriously appeared. Others began to horde their food, which in the end didn't pay off for some. One prisoner, though, never seemed to lack any food, firewood, liquid comfort, ect. ect. ect.

The casemates were torn apart 3 times. I didn't lose any items in the raids. I did have contraband script, both US, and Southern state, tucked amongst my items, but it was always in place after each search. Most of the prisoners went to sleep fairly early. I woke with clattering of many feet, heard the door open, and then heard the shout to get outside. I slept with my shoes on just in case of this situation, stumbled down from the 2nd bunk, grabbed my cap, and was sure to be the first out of the door, and not have to be told a 2nd time to get out of the cell. Most of us were sure that the night inspection was in the wee hours of the AM until we were told differently. When I was later told it was 11 PM, I was shocked. I'm not even asleep most nights at 11, let alone so tired that I can barely stumble to where I'm instructed to go.

Listened to the guards stomp through their beats later that night. I later chuckled after the event when I was told who that was.

Services on Sunday were good, as was the scenario with "Fitz." I felt myself with the same feelings about him that the some of the original sources describe, being torn between feeling loathing and pity. Well done, Hank.

First person had good moments and moments where it got forgotten. I honestly can't say I was always paying attention to others. I was pretty into the here and now of myself at multiple times, whether pacing the casemates, doing a little bit of writing, sitting on the sill staring at the water of the moat. During my research for the event, I found a transcription of a writing that the officer I portrayed while he was in captivity at Camp Chase. I copied that writing, carried it with me, and kept his words in mind while I was imprisoned.

The parts I felt where I felt the most despair was having to deal with the guards who I already knew. My friends on the oposite side of the bars did their jobs well, and looking to familiar faces I've fallen in with many times before (and will many times again) and deep down I didn't know who I could try to trust and who I couldn't. I even wrote up a letter to home, and was thinking to try and offer it to a guard with a Green Back bribe in order to get it sent home. But, I was never assured that the one-time friendly faces would not just pocket the money and leave me to my fate.

All said and done, I enjoyed the event tremendously, and will look back with fond memories.

Portraying,
Capt. James K. P. Lytle, 23d Tenn, Co. F.

P.S. Thanks again to Steve Ewing for the ride to the airport on Sunday, and for the offer of the ride on Friday Jason and I would have taken you up on if the airline didn't keep bumping flights.

[Ken Cornett]

Kevin,

As a matter of fact, Mess No. 1 did eat at the Crab Shack directly after the event. Not sure we met any of your friends. The event was excellent. John and Rick did a darn good job of covering all the bases. Hats off to the Yankee staff. Pat, Art, Brian, and Tripp made it happen for us Feds!

[huntdaw]

My dearest wife,

It occurred to me that I have not really told you what my life has been like since we transferred here to Ft. Pulaski. I thought I would give you some details so that you might have an idea of how miserable this kind of soldiering can be.

I am in Company A and am in the 1st section of the 1st platoon. The men around me are good soldiers who are determined to do their duty. The fort seems to be a decent place although it is located on salt marshes near the ocean. I fear that when the weather warms we will find that this is not a very healthful place to be. Already large groups of gnats come out in the evening hours and are quite pestiferous clouding around one’s face and eyes. I can only imagine what kind of insects we will have to deal with if we are still here when summer comes.

We are guarding prisoners here. They are a mixed bunch – officers, mostly lieutenants and captains from what I can see but I have noticed a sergeant major and a major in the mix. I also saw a naval officer although I have no idea how he got here. I assume they are wearing their own uniform coats. It can be hard to tell since they have such a mix of clothing on. Some are in what looks to be new uniforms while others are in rags and old civilian clothing. Some of these rebels seem to be rather gentlemanly while others are rather crude and probably quite untrustworthy.

We are kept busy here but it is the same thing over and over. To give you an idea of how the routine goes I will tell you what the last few days have been like.

We are assigned details according to platoons and those are broken down and assigned to sections. That way everything is covered for an entire 24-hour period. My section drew guard mount from 11 PM to 3am last Friday night. This was pretty quiet since the prisoners were asleep. I was assigned to post #1, which was at the guard shack on the parade ground. I basically stand there for a while and then walk a beat for a while. It is rather boring all in all and time can pass very slowly. We were allowed about 3-hour sleep before we were awakened for another day of duty. We went to breakfast first before we had to do other details. There is a group of civilians here that have been doing the cooking. They are women mostly but I have noticed a civilian fellow at the mess hall who seems to have something to do with all this. The cooking has been first-rate and the amount of food and quality has been much better than what we get when on campaign. That is one good thing about this garrison duty. I am afraid we will all get fat and lazy before we are able to leave here and won’t be worth much as soldiers if we have to go back on the march.

After breakfast on Saturday morning we drew fatigue duty which can be any number of work projects assigned. My section was given the task of replenishing the woodpiles around the fort so everyone would have sufficient heating and cooking fuel. We were given four hours to do a job that would only take about 30 minutes if we put our back into it. So, the main object of the duty was to make a 30-minute task take 4 hours. I and two of my section mates were successful in this for the most part and kept busy if not overly industrious for the allotted time. After this duty we were set to drill. We did some basic things that we always do, the sergeant went over some things with us from the drill manual and then we were given the chance to train on an artillery piece. I was excited about this since I have never attended such training and was eager to learn something new if only to break the monotony of regular duties. However, before we really got into this, the rebels decided to pull some tricks that made the officers have us fall in and stand guard while they were emptied out of their casemate. Evidently, there had been some sort of smuggling going on. The prisoners have been put on very limited rations of cornbread and pickled onions by order of General Foster. It was discovered that some of them were eating much better than intended and they were taken outside while their quarters were searched for any contraband. This is just a little game of cat and mouse that we play with the prisoners. I do not blame them for trying to get better foodstuffs and would probably do the same. But I am under orders to guard them and make sure they abide by the rules and I have undertaken to do that to the best of my ability.

Guarding these fellows during the search took up the rest of our drill and classtime and then it was time for us to be on guard once again from 3 PM to 7 that night. I was posted in the casemate by the end of the cell. The prisoners like to heckle the guards and see if they can get a rise from them. They also like to try and trade items for food and such to make their life a little better. I knew that I could be in a great deal of trouble if I traded with them and made it a point not to. I also was determined that they would not effect me with their taunts or attempts to engage me in conversation and usually met their entreaties with silent looks or I ignored them completely. Some of the other fellows on guard were of less sturdy stuff I suppose and some even traded food with the prisoners. I was not willing to take that chance and felt that these men were our enemies and would do us harm if they had the opportunity. In fact, we may have previously faced some of these men in battle when they were intent on killing me and others in my outfit. I could not get that thought from my mind and while I was willing to treat them with the respect a fellow soldier is due, I was not willing to become friendly and submit myself to discipline from the officers or even bodily harm from the prisoners.

During our turn at guard, the prisoners were found once again to have things they should not and they were turned out into the yard under guard while we searched their quarters. Several items were found but it seems that no matter how often we search and find things, they manage to get items from people just the same. We suspect that some of the women within the fort have smuggled some goods to them and, of course, some of our own men have done the same whether it be from a sense of pity or in an attempt for self gain the result is the same – the prisoners are given things they should not have and we have to pay the price by standing for long periods of time while searches are made over and over.

We were fortunate to not have duty for a 12 hour period after this guard was over but it did not last as we were roused from our beds in the middle of the night and, once again, lined up to guard prisoners as they were counted. A boat had disappeared from the dock and it was feared that an escape had been made.

My Sabbath began with being on guard once again from 7 to 11 in the morning. The routine gets quite monotonous, as I am sure you can imagine. While I was on guard, I heard a strange sound from the prisoners’ cell as if something were frying. Several of the prisoners were singing hymns as a preparation for divine services but I think it was a cover to keep me from hearing the noise that I did hear. I began to walk over to the bars to see what I could see. An officer, their senior officer I believe, started to make some small talk to me which heightened by suspicion. He asked me where I was from. They all know we are New Yorkers so there was no reason for that. As I drew closer he asked me when I had been home last. I saw several prisoners huddled around the window with their backs toward me. Some looked over their shoulders. They were up to no good it was obvious but I could not see what they were doing. I began to move to the door with the officer still asking me things like when I thought I would be home again. As I reached the door, I heard him tell his men to put things away. I called for the corporal of the guard who was approaching my post with the relief guard. I reported the incident to him and later to one of the lieutenants but do not know the outcome. Evidently nothing was done since we were not called out again to search their quarters. This will give you an idea of the kind of game we are always playing. While it seems like it might be frustrating, it does serve to break the monotony and can be somewhat challenging as both sides try to outsmart the other.

A prisoner died on Sunday morning and several of the rebel officers were allowed, under guard of course, to carry his body out of the fort to be buried. I was off duty at the time but watched as an interested spectator and doffed my cap out of respect as they carried him past where I was.

I do not know how much longer we will be here. We do not enjoy this duty but we have freedom to move about and have fairly comfortable quarters unlike what the prisoners have. So, even though this duty is something none of us desire we are fortunate that we are not locked up every day and all day.

I long for the day when this war will be over. From the news we get this shall surely be soon. At least I pray to a kind Providence that it will be. Kiss the children for me and remember me in your prayers.

Your loving husband,
Michael

[Hank Trent]

Well, as before five years ago, this is one of my favorite events, and it always exceeds expectations. The dedication and hard work of all the organizers and the participants show clearly and pay off in an amazing experience. I love an event where there seems to be no upper limit to what's expected. This was my first time portraying Fitz, but if the event ever happens again, I'd love to do the same thing again, trying to do better at all the things I know I needed improvement on this time.

Everyone treated Fitz just as was reported, not sharing too much, not offering too much companionship, with just the right balance of occasional pity and sympathy, to make the experience seem real. This event definitely sets my personal record for "most time spent alone staring into space drunk/high/sick, while being ignored," and that was just what I was hoping for. :)

Once when I was whining yet again to poor Capt. Blue (who did an excellent job in a challenging role) that I hadn't been approved to take the oath yet, he stared at me and just said, quietly, "Is this documented? Because I never read anything like this..." It cracked me up, because it so perfectly summed up poor Fitz's life. If they'd known to phrase it like that in the 1860s, they surely would have, and it was certainly a fair question before being led into some reenactor's made-up drama. I just paused, nodded to reassure him, and went on rambling. But for a bit more reassurance, here's the letter in the ORs instructing General Foster to refuse Fitz's latest request to take the oath just before he was sent to Ft. Pulaski. (last letter on the page) http://cdl.library.cornell.edu/cgi-bin/moa/pageviewer?frames=1&coll=moa&view=50&root=%2Fmoa%2Fwaro%2Fwaro0120%2F&tif=00877.TIF&cite=http%3A%2F%2Fcdl.library.cornell.edu%2Fcgi-bin%2Fmoa%2Fmoa-cgi%3Fnotisid%3DANU4519-0120 And the rest of the story: http://cw186165.homestead.com/fitz.html

I suspected that one of the prisoners would probably die before it was over, as had happened last time, but had absolutely no idea it would be Fitz until the officers approached me Sunday morning and asked me if I wanted to do it in a few hours. I'd already gone to the cemetery before the event and stood near where Fitz's unmarked grave was and hoped to do him justice, and it was a humbling and amazing experience to be nailed in the coffin and carried out there.

And now that I'm safely 500 miles away, I can make a confession: All that rum that Fitz was begging and buying Saturday night, had to go to waste. I felt bad about it, but Fitz would have killed for it, and I figured that each of us portraying our prisoners as accurately as possible was the priority. Because I'm too sensitive to alcohol to drink at events, I had to sneak each cupful into the sink bucket and only pretend that Fitz was drinking it. Thank god somebody finally figured to water it down and save the real stuff for those who really wanted it!

Hank Trent
hanktrent@voyager.net

[Will Eichler]

Let me add my thanks to Rick and John for the amazing job they did setting up this event and to Steve and Joe for keeping our section and platoon in line. It was sure a long haul to make the 911 miles from Michigan down but it was one of the best events I've attended and if it goes again, I'll be back.

Thanks to all the members of the community who participated to make this a great experience.

Regards,

Will

[Matt Woodburn]

Every now and then you find yourself in a place and set of circumstances that creates a wonderful lifetime memory for you. Fort Pulaski is now that for me. So first I want to thank the event organizers, Rick Joslyn and John Cleveland, for the hard work and many hours prior to my arrival that made this event a great success. Also my thanks go to all of the other unsung heros who had a hand in making this event so memorable.

In no particular order, I'll recall some of the interesting events that I enjoyed as I portrayed Capt. Leroy Carson, 35th Tenn. Infty.

On Friday night after everyone had gone to bed, I noticed a Federal bringing in water buckets. I was pretty thirsty since I'd not had anything to drink for several hours. I got up, grabbed my dipper and followed the Yankee through the casemates for some water. And then his smooth actions to provide me some relief were so well executed that even I didn't notice. He left the cells, and I went back to bed. But while candlelit images of what I just saw, him entering with water and then leaving ran through my mind, something didn't add up. Then it hit me. He was wearing an overcoat when he came in. He only had on his uniform coat when he left. I got up, went to where he set the water down and there was my first black market gift, a warm overcoat.

Saturday morning I was determined to have a cup of coffee somehow. I and many of my fellow Casemate 18 residents were starting to get headaches so it was off to figure out how to get a fire going. A stump was being used as a chair, so we took that and put a group together cutting firewood from it with knives. No easy task. Not wanting to damage the wood floor in my area and needing to clean up the ashes from the guards, we build a fire on a plate for our cooking. In short time, Capt. Carson's Kitchen was open serving coffee. We served coffee black while Lt. Crisp in Casemate 19 served sweetened coffee. Crisp was always a gentleman and had a warm cup for me when my kitchen was closed.

I didn't know going into this event that I'd end up running the black market supply line. Everytime a cell tossing would come, I'd lose some precious items. A dear brother on the outside brought me some relief in the form of a generous ham and cheese sandwich. I didn't have it but 45 seconds when the next shakedown came. I hid the food but lost it as fast as I'd gained it. It was a sad moment as I knew how many of us could have received a mouthful of real food. So goes prison life.

We lost all the kindling from the stump in the first shakedown and the stump was removed to a point fifteen feet outside of the prison bars. So it was time to find a new fuel source. I spied a crackerbox table and commented to some fellows that a table could stand with three legs. Lt. A.J. Barton said we could shave part of each leg down and get even more firewood. With that superior idea, Lt. Barton began chopping wood. I informed my bunkmate and able assistant, Lt. Paul Earles, that Capt. Carson's Kitchen was back in business. Through the day I spent my time trading for food and received distress relief from the outside. By supper, we were going to have more than cornmeal and pickled onions. Lt. Earle and I worked on cutting up food and preparing the fire. To cover our kitchen activities we hung a blanket from the top bunk to make a wall, placed some of our Casemate 18 residents with smoking pipes to "cover" the fire smoke, and placed lit candles on the iron bars by our fire to "mask the fire flicker." Now our activity was blanketed from discovery. Actually Sunday morning we were frying meat and the sizzle became quite loud. By now the seasoned inmates knew how to cover about anything and began an immediate choir practice and sang hymns loudly to cover the sizzle noise. Saturday nights fare was "Casemate Stew" consisting of sweet potatoes, tomatoes, sausage, onions, and pork liquor. The kindest compliment I received during the weekend came from Lt. Dunlap when he said, "The only thing Capt. Carson's Kitchen doesn't have is a written menu." My assistant, Lt. Earles, quickly wrote out a menu and placed it on the iron bars by our bunk much to my amusement. Sunday morning after serving pan fried sausages and bread to 14 inmates, I confessed that there was actually a basement under our casemate where I had Mammy and four darkeys working on a full stove.

Hank Trent brought to life evething I'd read about "Fitz." His convincing portrayal was ever present, but really hit home with me when he came to me with half of a dirty egg. He wanted to trade it for opium. I told him I had none, but might be able to get him some alcohol. His addict face lit up and he insisted I take his half dirty egg which he presented to me held by both hands. We sealed the deal with a handshake. Little did I know how badly an addict needs a fix. Fitz came by regularly to inquire, "Is it time yet?" This was during the time I'm trying to get dinner items. On the fourth pestering inquiry, I also needed a drink. I got Fitz his alcohol and that was it. He wanted more. I decided it was time for everyone's rum ration and I didn't know how many more cell tossings it would take to uncover my contraband rum. I found out that my container was actually handled and inspected more than once, but the liter of rum just couldn't be found. Some took it straight while some made grog. For an hour it was high times in Casemate 18. In the middle of the night, Fitz returned and woke me from a dead sleep. He asked if there was any more alcohol. I yelled NO and told him to go back to bed. What an addict!

Tormenting the guards became a sport. One guard wanted to trade for a pipe. I didn't have one, but told him I'd make it happen for him. Then it was off to find or make a pipe. My bunkmate reminded me about his broken black clay pipe. So I got it and tried to make a stem from straw, but to no success. So I did the next best thing. I whitled a matchstick down to fit in the bowl and then the broken off stem. I got a little ash from our kitchen fire, rubbed it on the matchstick so it wouldn't be seen holding the stem to the bowl. I knew the guard couldn't smoke on duty so was fairly confident he wouldn't know what was up until it was too late. I made the trade, took my food item and quickly disappeared into the sea of Confederates. He found out and was instantly mad and wanted to see me. If I went to him I would have only explained that he should take up the matter with his commanding officer. Oh wait, that's illegal trading with prisoners which would have landed him in a cell. Rube! (OK, whoever it was that I traded with, if you want your poke sack back, let me know.) I then decided it was time to have more fun with the guards. I wrote a note, borrowed an envelop and showed my fellow inmates what I was about to do. I went to the bars and yelled, "Hey guard! Mail call!" The guard took the mail opened it and read the note. His frown produced the most delightful laughter from all the inmates. The note said, "Your sister is a whore in Richmond." That's it. There's your mail. You frown, we laugh. The guards would give the mail back so we played that with every changing of the guard.

There were so many more things we did, but I've taken enough time. It was a pleasure to meet so many guys that I'd only read their posts on the AC, see old friends and take home an experience of how we all worked together to make everything around us useful. This post is in memory of Capt. Leroy Carson. He went back to Fort Delaware with the rest of the Immortal 600. He went into the hospital there with pneumonia, got out for a week, went back into the hospital and died eight weeks after leaving Fort Pulaski. Leroy Carson didn't make it home.

[Birddog]

Well I for one had a great time. It was a bit hard not knowing anyone when I arrived, but met so many people that I felt I knew off the forums. Meeting Joey on Friday night and helping him made me feel a lot more comfortable.

I would like to thank the organizers, job well done! I would also like to thank the one young Federal guard; I remember he was wearing a red shirt. Never got his name but the interaction I had with him was the best all weekend As well as the ginger snap cookies, well cookie as I shared the second one with my casemate. Letting them through the door with ham was the best thing you could have ever done for us. I hope you survived your conscripted time.

Interacting with Capt. Carson, the Lt Commander, and Fitz were some of the highlights of the weekend for me.

I feel we all bonded together at Fitz’s death. A magic moment if there ever was one. As well as one of the saddest moments in reenacting I can remember.

It was funny watching the movement of people, as soon as something happened or someone got an item from the outside we all rushed together like penguins heading for the water!

My thanks to all, especially the fellows who were so concerned that the cripple got a share of all things going around, since I “needed” it more than most, as I was so often told.

Last but not least Captain Mack did a dang fine job! I know it was more work than he had bargained for, but he stepped up to the plate and took real good care of all of us junior officers.

If this event happens again in a few years I’ll be there. Besides March in Georgia is a heck of a lot better than in the Great White North, even if you are locked in a cool casemate.

My crutch is going into moth balls until the next time I get sent to Fort Pulaski!

2nd Lieutenant Benjamin Grant, Company F, 42nd Mississippi Infantry

[huntdaw]

Actually Sunday morning we were frying meat and the sizzle became quite loud. By now the seasoned inmates knew how to cover about anything and began an immediate choir practice and sang hymns loudly to cover the sizzle noise.

I knew I heard frying in that cell and I came to figure out the singing was a coverup. What fun!

[C.R. Henderson]

Even "Lt. Box" gave some so that we had fire! He still resides in the prison of Ft. Pulaski with the signatures of the "600" if you are ever visiting there. For those who don't know, "Lt. Box" is the cracker box that I took that was used as a chess table, storage, stool, step for looking out the crack in the door, cornbread rationing and concealment, and the pulpit for Sunday's service. What a brave soldier!
A.J.

[Ken Cornett]

Matt,

I now know why you were picking up the wood at the sinks. Yeah, you were gonna whitle. ;)

[Kevin O'Beirne]

Just for the heck of it, does anyone else know my pards Quincy Gillmore, James Wilson, and Pat O'Rorke? They were at Fort Pulaski too... anyone know them?

[Rmhisteach]

I portrayed Edmund Irby Mastin from Ala.

I find that it is hard to put my expierence into words. Yesterday I thought that was because of my lack of sleep but, I truely find it difficult to put into words.

I guess for the living historian you may want the word " Awesome"

Memories include;
1. scrambling to find pards on Friday night.
2. The feeling of uncertainity of what would happen to us.( food, Barracks search, Inspections etc.)
3. Hiding our items so the yanks could not find it. We saw Cleveland at KFC on the way home and felt like hiding our Chicken.
4. All of Leroy's cooking. I helped him out and he took care of me . The casemate stew was a pleasent suprise.
5. Fitz- I tried to get to know you little buddy but you were so strange. I did learn the latin word for opium.
6. A very memorable church service, you all gave me a great honor to be able to lead you in this . The reflections from the moat creating a shimmering look on the wall was awesome!
7. Good Pards taking care of each other.
8. Onion Pickles- in the top ten most disusting food ever
9. We have Coffee and you have three minutes.
10. All of the great interactions and discussions in the casemate.
11. Touring Savannah before the event and eating at the Crab Shack.
12. A monster long drive about 14 hours from Our part of Illinois

Thanks to all that helped pull it off. Thanks to all who took time to research and make this event a truely special one

Your pard
Rod

[Coon Dawg]

Gentleman ~

What can I say that has not already been said? I too want to thank all those who planned this event. What a unique experience. What an honor. I am certain much hard work went into pulling this off.

Initially, I had brought and extra pair of socks, tobacco, a sleeping hat, blanket, small poke sack of coffee as well as a few other comforts; however, after Capt. Blue’s speech on Friday night beforehand I went to the car and ditched it all. The only thing I carried in was a haversack, fork knife spoon combo, canteen half, a candle and the cloths on my back. No blanket. Needless to say, several hours in the event I woke up very cold and exhausted from lack of sleep. I had this strong desire to build a fire and became quite upset that someone else had complete control over my destiny. I tried to warm myself with the candle, which by the way worked very well, until of course another strong desire, sleep, kicked in.

However, luckily in the wee hours I was saved by 2nd Lieutenant, Benjamin Grant, 42nd Mississippi a man whom I had never met. I owe you big time for that brother. I will never forget you my friend.

A special thanks also goes out to the Georgia boys some of whom I have fought with and have not had the chance to really get to know and some who I feel I have know all my life even though I have only marched with them only a few times including 2 Lt. "Crispy" Crisp the "The Admiral" and the other 2 Lt. A.J. Barton. I especially liked Crispy’s coffee even though it did have a little extra zing to it for some unknown reason and who doesn’t love to here stories about adventures on the high seas.

I would also like to thank the boys from up North who drove so far including 1st Lt. Eugene Jeffers, 61st Georgia Infantry and the infamous Captain Leroy Carson, 35th Tennessee. Leroy kept me warm the second night by sharing his blockade blanket and the boys from up North keep me entertained with their antics and great first person. It would not been the same without you guys.

And lastly, I would like to thank the Federals for their stellar portal. The way they would quickly march in and catch us by surprise. Their great first person portrays. My hat is off to you guys. They are the ones who made it REAL for me.

In closing, even though I carried virtually nothing in with me I was able to survive. Even though food was scare, coffee was scarce, warm clothes/blankets were scarce, tobacco was scarce and I had nothing yet I had everything. It was comradeship that kept me going and I think I realized that after the event was over. Just in that short amount of time, I got to know so much about the men I was with that I came to believe that we could have survived anything together much like brave souls who we shared the same casemates with so many years ago.

If y’all have chance to do this again, count me in.

Capt. John Jackson Henderson Jr.
61st Georgia Volunteer Infantry
Company A - Irwin Cowboys
He was moved to Charleston, SC on 20 August 1864, to Fort Pulaski, GA on 21October 1864, then to Hilton Head SC 19 November-February 1865. He was returned to Ft. Delaware and released on 16 June 1865, several months after the war ended.

Joel Phillips
The Flatlander's Mess
http://flatlandersmess.googlepages.com

[trippcor]

I have been to both past I600 events which have been in my top 10 list for many years. This years surpassed those. The bar for 2007 has been set very high.

Having done the past two events as a POW, I decided to see what life was like outside the bars. Boy what a difference!!! I don't think I have worked so hard at an event in a long long time. The Federal Garrison always seemed to be needed for something. From guard, to fatique, to drill, to prisoner escort, to assitting with the spectator program and more, we were kept very busy. My deepest thanks and appreciation go out to all those that served in Co. A of the 157th NY!! You men all did your duty and did it well. It was an honor to serve with you all this past weekend.

Special thanks to Pat Craddock for allowing be to serve as his Orderly Sgt. It has been awhile since I have filled that role and was reminded how much work it is. Luckly I have some great folks serving as our SGTs and CPLs. Thanks to Sgts Blunt and Miller. You both ran your platoons expertly. Cpls Ewing, McCarthy, Runyon, and Spohn all did an outstanding job!!!

My most memorable moment was pushing Ed Marsh up against the Fort wall as he tried to grab a confiscated ham bone to try and sneak it back into the casemates. Seeing the look on his face and watching the ham bone fly through the air as all the other prisoners eyes followed it was priceless and earned me the nickname Sgt Hambone.

It was a great event and I am looking forward to the next time.

[BrianHicks]

As everyone before has done, allow me to praise John Cleveland and Rick Josylin for their efforts in making this event come to fruition. They, more so than any others who participated, did the Bulls work in making this I-600 a success. Also allow me to praise Danny Brown and those women who portrayed the Civilian side of the event.

As many of you know, this was my first event as a Commissioned Officer. In the past I have portrayed the ranks of Private, Sgt, Orderly Sgt and SgtMaj.

Some of you may recall my having stated at one time, that I would not portray an Officer, as my career had been that of an NCO... and besides, I enjoyed actually having a job to do at events.

Well... the allure of better rations and better sleeping arrangements got the better of me. And it was well worth it! Not for the rations, or the sleeping arrangements.. but because of the men who served in the Federal Garrison, who did such a fine job, at so great an event.

I hope my Officers Impression was acceptable to those who served in our Company.

What made the event so successful? Or should I say memorable?

There are many images and experiences that I recall.

Touring the Casemate and looking at the Prisoners as I walked through. The eerie feeling each time I exited the steel bar doors, knowing that the prisoners had no such freedom.

The image of the prisoners playing chess, reading, and forming such a close band of camaraderie under the shared hardship of imprisonment.

Recognizing the strange symbol on a box form home addressed to a Capt. Leroy Carson, and later speaking to him in hushed tones and verifying that he was indeed a Brother, and then the three or four occasions later, secreting to him the meager relief that I could smuggle in (the sweet potatoes, the sausages, cheese, bread and cigars). As best I can tell, none of the prisoners, nor any of the Guards ever identified me as one of the smugglers of food stuffs into the prison cells.

During the second shake down, the men outside dropping hard boiled eggs. -That's the first time I've ever seen a line of men appear to be laying eggs! :)

The Sunday morning Church service, and offering my praise to the Officer who lead the services at it's conclusion.

Walking and talking with a few of the prisoners as they moved the hay form one side of the parade deck to the other side.

And of course, the Funeral of poor Fitz.

It was a great event, apparently enjoyed by all.

Perhaps next time I'll portray one of the prisoners.

Well done Gentlemen, well done indeed!

[lazarus]

Being my second time being a confederate prisoner, this was definitely a different experience than the first. Many of the differences were very much appreciated such as not necessarily having real access to unlimited amounts of food. I never really felt any hunger pains and let's face it, you'll eat the onions if you have to. Here's to cornbread that tasted like cake and all my bunkmates wanting some buttercream icing to make it complete.

Here's to cutting hair with a straight razor, to having officers crush hard-boiled eggs in front of you after pulling them out of your pockets, and to trying to catch a pigeon to have a little new york chicken. Special thanks to those that spooned in the night, especially Saturday, and to those Yankees that attempted to try not to talk to us poor lonely officers. I also would especially like to thank the Lt. for warm stew and coffee with only three minutes to spare.

Finallly, here's to Fitzy, hearing pickles splashing to the floor, and finding out that tin plates are great for prying open the cistern for an escape but learning that plates don't float for anything in ten feet or more water.

Thanks to Capt. Blue and casemates 18 and 19!

Cheers!

[Dignann]

Y'all made the front page of this morning's (March 8, 2007) NPS Digest, complete with photo.


Fort Pulaski National Monument
Living History Volunteers Participate In Unusual Event

On March 3rd and 4th, the park hosted one of the year’s most unusual living history events – an event that focused on the sacrifices of a special group of Confederate prisoners known as the “Immortal 600.”

Nearly 200 living history volunteers from around the nation helped to recreate one of the darkest chapters in American history. The event was entirely “immersive,” and included starvation diets for the prisoners and rigid military discipline for the guards.

The Immortal 600 prisoners were incarcerated at Fort Pulaski during the fall and winter of 1864-1865. These Confederates, each of them officers, won praise for their steadfastness, refusing to take an oath of allegiance that would have alleviated their suffering. Instead, they endured crowded conditions, diets of moldy cornbread and pickled onions, and a lack of warm clothing, blankets and firewood. Their punishment was retaliation for the harsh conditions suffered by Union prisoners incarcerated at Andersonville. Thirteen of the Confederates perished at Fort Pulaski, and were buried outside the fort.

The event was the largest of its kind at Fort Pulaski since 2000. Afterwards the participants donated more than $800 to the park. The donation will be used to purchase a complete set of implements for a brand new 30-pounder Parrott cannon. The 4,200-pound cannon will be unveiled in April 2007 during the 145th commemoration of the siege and reduction of Fort Pulaski. The cannon will be the largest operational reproduction cannon in the U.S.

http://home.nps.gov/applications/digest/headline.cfm?type=Announcements&id=5248


Eric

[sweetbriardaisy]

I was very excited to attend IM600 - this was my second real Civil War event after spending a summer working at Ft. Delaware two summers ago. I was a little disappointed there wasn't a laundry set up, but that's something we can get going next time, I'm sure. Ft Pulaski is such a lovely little fort - well maintained and excellent facilities.

To Mr. Nelson (2LT Benjamin Grant, Company F, 42nd Mississippi Infantry), thank you for carrying my trunk in on Friday night. I was going to slip you some apple, sir, on one of the tours I led through the prison, but I never got the chance!

The first night without the public was great, even though four of us ladies left our beds and bedded down in front of the fire in the kitchen. Sleeping on the floor and stoking a fire all night really got me thinking about what servants went through to keep their middle class employers cozy at night. But waking up the next morning to officers standing over us as if to say "What's all this then?" was priceless.

I loved overhearing stories from Federals coming off of guard duty, telling the many tales of encounters with the prisoners. I think the most memorable time, for me, was after the public left and just listening to the sounds of the Fort.

I will definitely attend this event next time. It was wonderful! Well done to everybody who took part! :)

PS - Liz! Thanks for posting the pictures!

~Jenny Lynn

[CornFedComrade]

I have to say that I had no idea where Mr. Carson was getting his supplies. I assumed he smuggled everything in on Friday and was very adept at hiding things. As I was eating pan fried sausage Sunday morning, I didn't dare ask where it had been residing before it entered my stomach. Thank you for your sneaky diligance Brian, and thank you for sharing your bounty Matt.

[blackhattertuck]

Fellows,

The prisoners in casemate 18 will understand this. I just wanted to cite my source :)

From: Voices of the Civil War: Soldier Life by the Editors of Time-Life Books


On the following day I returned to the main reserves, which were in the ruins of an old mill. In the detachment was a young man named Hutchinson, dark-skinned, moody and strange looking, rarely speaking to anyone, and suspected of a hereditary disposition towards insanity.
Near him sat a young fellow named Merrit, a Baltimorean, whose only merit, that I ever observed, was embraced in his name. Besides being a physical coward he was a liar "when the truth would be better," and vulgar in word, thought, and action. He had drawn an obscene picture upon a peice of shingle, and handing it to Hutchinson, asked -- "How do you like your mother?"
Like a flash of lightning the insulted youth had sprung to his feet, darted to the stack of arms, seized the Captain's sword, and slashed at Merrit's scalp! With a blood-curdling scream the latter fled for his life, pursued closely by the mainac, whose stalwart arm hacked at his head, shoulders, and back at every bound! The act was so unexpected, and the cries of the flying wretch so startling, that few of us thought of interfering, though the man's life was in imminent peril.
Happily Captain Wampler, with more self-possession, seized a musket, and running across the arc of the circle, spang between the lunatic, and Merrit just as the latter stumbled, and fell headlong -- never to have risen again but for the brave Captain's interference. Hutchinson glared wildly at Wampler for an instant, but as the Captian's bayonet was almost at his heart, and as I, and others had now sprung to reinforce him, -- there was no chance to resist. Slowly dropping the point of his weapon, he allowed his arms to be bound, and remained in moody sullenness until sent to a place of safety. He never recovered his sainity, I believe. Merrit was painfully slashed about his head and shoulders; but I am not sure he got a great deal of sympathy; as his obscenity caused the whole affair, and doubtless threw the unhappy youth's mind off the balance.

Private Randolph A. Shotwell
8th VA. Inf.
December, 1861 Fairfax Co. Virginia.


I'm just happy the Yank sentry did not react in such a fashion!

Y'r Ob'dt Sr'vt

[Rob]

From the Saxton diary:

"Thanksgiving day," the 24th of November, 1864, was observed as a holiday. For some reason the halyard on our flagstaff had come down and we could not hoist the flag. The fort was 25 feet high, the flagstaff extended thirty or forty feet above this. We invited volunteers to climb the flagstaff and insert the rope over the pulley. Several tried and failed. Then we sent to some vessels and got some sailors, who also tried and failed. We were anxious to get the flag up for the prisoners had caught on to our dilemma, and were laughing at and taunting us. Finally Sergeant Cummings of Company I undertook it and he succeeded and climbed to the top, inserted the halyard and came down with the rope in his mouth. Then we sent up "Old Glory" with a tremendous shout, and the Colonel excused Sergeant Cummings from duty for a week and the officers raised him a nice purse.

[CornFedComrade]

Adam,
I personally liked it when the guard at the opposite end of our cell was approached with a remark concerning his sister.

"I don't have a sister..."

I know it's hard to say what the Immortals state of mind was at all times, but one would hope they were able to turn to humor in order to keep their wits about them. Of course, our mood was a little lighter knowing we would be set free on Sunday afternoon.

[C.R. Henderson]

Hey Yank! Mail Call!...............................(Evil Look).....Hahahahhhaaaaaaa!

The thing I found most interesting is that the guards returned the envelop each time.

[trippcor]

Hey we were trying to help but several of y'all made it very hard. Standing at the open casemate eating ham is a good way to invite an inspection!!!!

[Rick Joslyn]

Just received this in today's mail. Thanks Everyone.


United States Department of the Interior
NATIONAL PARK SERVICE
Fort Pulaski National Monument
P.O. Box 30757, Hwy 80 East
Savannah, GA 31410

March 5, 2007

Lt. Rick Joslyn
Event Coordinator
Fort Pulaski Immortal 600 Event 837 Jones Street
Sparta, GA 31087

Dear Rick:

I would like to thank you for organizing and participating in one of the most successful events in the history of Fort Pulaski National Monument. The Immortal 600 event on March 3-4, 2007, featured more than 120 very talented and dedicated living. history volunteers who traveled from around the United States. Please pass along my deepest appreciation to everyone who made this such a memorable Civil War event.

Your "immersive" techniques, including the use of starvation diets for the Confederate prisoners and 24-hour guard details for the Union guards, ensured the highest levels of historic authenticity. Visitors and participants alike praised this powerful presentation style, and everyone appeared satisfied and moved by the experience. The park was filled to capacity thanks to the event. The park also received some very favorable coverage from the local news media. A special film crew from the Georgia Technology Authority was on hand to develop a documentary on the sacrifices ofthe Immortal 600. Thank you for providing them access to all of your activities throughout the weekend.

Finally, I would like to thank you for your generous donation of $800. Please let your group know that this money will be used to purchase a full set of artillery implements for our brand new reproduction 30-Pounder Parrott cannon. Thanks to your generosity, your participants can enjoy the satisfaction of being part of a milestone in Civil War living history. When unveiled in April 2007, the cannon will be the largest operational reproduction cannon in the U.S.

Again, thank you for your fine efforts. We look forward to another Immortal 600 event in 2009!

Best regards,

Charles E. Fenwick
Superintendent
Fort Pulaski National Monument

[Rmhisteach]

Rick,

If you are abvle to . Could you post any links to local news coverage . I have been unable to find any vai googel & of course The Republican ? Press up here in Yankeeland does not cover southern interest Items. I would like to see some pics and of courase If I had a camera in the cell which I did not it wmost certainly would have been confiscated by Col. Brown and his thugs. Ha ha

Rod

[CFC]

Gentelmen

I have been thinking long and hard about this event. I have tried to explain it to one's that should be able to understand with no luck only ending with you have togo next time that is the only way you will be able to get it. This event was like nothing I have ever done.

This event is to personal and I have decided to keep it as such.

Although we did a steller job and I want to take nothing away from that their are some things that I will improve of myself in order to make this event better for me when it rolls back around.


I will be more ragged in apperance ( I feel that I was to clean)
I will not fill up before arriving to the event ( I never felt hunger )
I will only draw a half of ration if any at all. ( I feel that their was to much food available)
I only went in with my cup,coffee cooler,writting case, and the clothes on my back and I know that I can thin it down even more. ( I was over dressed)

These are just some of the things that I know of that I can do for myself to improve the event atleast for me.

Sgt. Major
Charles Busby

Jasper Massey
Corn Fed Comrades
WIG
ONV

[C.R. Henderson]

I'll echo that sentiment, Sgt. Maj. I felt that many of us also looked too clean for not having been able to get new clothes for a couple of months. Mr. Hank Trent was a real inspiration to me on how to really research a role and portray it with his portrayal of Fitz. The thing I experienced most physically was the caffeine withdrawl headaches. Every time I coughed on Sunday it was as if somebody had my head in a vice and they tightened it a little more each time. Many people might say it also but before nextime, I'm going to loose some weight- not just for the role, but for myself.

P.S. I'm glad you boys all made it home safe and in one piece. I know that was a heck of a drive.

[Vuhginyuh]

Oh, and I vote for image #3. ;)

Where did I put that alert button?

[BenjaminLDavis]

Hey we were trying to help . . .

And indeed you did - I keep getting flashbacks from this one.
Fer instance: I got up in the wee hours to use the piss pot, which was down at the other end
of our prison; as I trod carefully on the casemate floors through the snoring, I could just make
out the piss pot and the sentry outside the bars, the candle at that end must have expired or
been extinguished. I said a few friendly words to the Billy there, we talked in hushed tones
a short time, and I bide him good night. "Wait!" he said, and "Here, take these!" I came over
by the bars, and two cooked, warm small sweet taters were pressed into my hands. I was
so surprized, I don't remember if I thanked him. I never saw the face of the friend who fed me
and my pards. If I neglected to thank him then, I would like to do so now.
And this was just one incident in a full weekend. It doesn't get any better than this.