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Picket Post AAR

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  • #16
    Re: Picket Post AAR

    Gentleman here is what I had gathered from the weekend. I had kept a journal of what had happened throughout Company D while being at Picket Post. This is just a few simple things that happened to this ole Johnny while being there. Picket Post was a great event and I definitely enjoyed it. My hats off to the organizers and everyone who made the event possible. It provided us with a good understanding of a typical Johnny and just a few of the things he endured. Hope ya fellers enjoy it.

    Friday May, 13
    We have just staggered in from a long march which has led us to a place the troops have nick named "Land Between the Lakes". Upon our arrival we have been issued a great deal of rations in which we have been instructed to prepare and eat tonight as we will be moved to the front in the morning. We had cooked the majority of the bacon and rice up and whipped up some cakes with the corn meal and ate till we had filled our stomachs as we knew the opportunity of us preparing meals over the next few days would be slim..Exhausted from our march we had layed out our painted cloth and layed down to sleep as I listened to a whipporwhill echoe through out the woods for the most part of the night.

    Saturday May,14
    The sound of reveille awoke us at the bright hour of 5 this morning. Our company had fallen in for roll and then packed our gear and made preparations for the march to the front. Our battalion had fell in along an old wagon trail in which we took for the most part of our journey. Little did we know we would value what little sleep we had got the night before as for the night ahead would be one of the longest yet. We arrived into a series of open fields that had once been used for farming. It was there we began to discover the little black blood sucking bugs called ticks in which we would soon to find out we would fight the ticks harder than the yanks. My mind could only picture the beauty of the farm when it would have been operating. For the majority of the day we had stood picket and been thrown back in forth from picket to outpost with little site of the yanks. We had then been moved back to reserve for a short time as the temperature began to fall in the evening. While we was there we had started packing our gear to be positioned back to the front when a few pop shots had rang out which got our blood stirring. I had once overheard our Captain speaking to a higher officer stating "Once you give the boys the taste of blood its hard to pull em off" for this was the truth. Our company had then rushed to the very front from the rear passing the majority of the companies at a double quick we then hammered into the blue devils giving them a yell and few good series of volleys. The fighting didnt last long for we pushed there line back across the field into the wood line not to see them for the remainder of the evening. As night fell upon us and darkness covered the Tennessee sky our guard duty had drawn the 7 to 1 time which seemed to be the coldest and longest night yet. As we was pulled off picket the anger through our company began to stir as our cold bodys shook and to the reserve position we was ready to go. Exhausted and tired eyes covered our company. I at one point found my self asleep against a tree shivering under a ground cloth to be awoke that finally our reserves arrived to relieve us. We stumbled through the dark unto the reserve spot to collapse upon each other covered in blankets and dew huddled up for warmth to gather what little sleep there was to be had.

    Sunday May,15
    Once again our tired beat down hungry bodies was awoke early in the morning to soon be met with fire from the enemy echoing through the woods. I crammed a handful or two of parched corn into my mouth and placed my knapsack on and wrapped my groundcloth around my body. We loaded our gear on and rushed to the front to get in with a good little scrap with the federals. We rushed into the wood line once again giving them series of yells and slinging led into the blue line to see the yanks in ranks in a field we then burst out to give the blue devils a good volley and dip back into the woodline. My platoon was then instructed to move to the left where we fired pop shots at the federals on there flank just enough to stir them up to the point were they had sent a company to make an attempt to deal with us. Over the next few minutes the fighting grew hot then we noticed our right flank begin to scatter as the federals pushed them out of the woodline. Our battalion had then fell back leaving our company deployed as a line of sentinels to cover our battalion as they moved to the rear. Sometime later we was then provided orders to move out for this is all I have to provide before we make our next long march to some journey only to be known by the officers.

    Zachariah M.L.E. Wiles
    9th Tennessee Co. D
    "Breckinridge Greys"
    Last edited by -Zach-; 05-17-2016, 12:21 PM.
    [B][I]Zachariah M.L.E. Wiles[/I][/B]

    -Breckinridge Greys-
    [SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
    [SIZE=3][B][U][COLOR="#FF0000"]~LIBERTY OR DEATH~[/COLOR][/U][/B][/SIZE]

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    • #17
      Re: Picket Post AAR

      Originally posted by Murph View Post
      I played the orderly sergeant for Co. H this past weekend and had an absolutely miserable blast. What really made the event for me was when, after just changing the shift with my sentinels, I heard one of the men whisper really excitedly "did you hear that? I think someone is calling over". Me and the captain exchanged looks, and at length we responded. The disembodied voice of a Federal and I finally agreed to meet in the middle of the field in the best interest of both sides involved. Myself and three others set out slowly though the waist high, soaking wet grass, and my moment really set in when I see the two shadows form hats, then arms, then legs, as they also cautiously approach in the moonlight. I came to the event without much in my pockets, and so after introductions, when the trading commenced, all I had to hand over was a little shallot and a button. On the upshot, them yankee Necco wafers didn't last long. That's an exchange I won't forget anytime soon.
      Great to meet you, Caleb!
      And, thank you to you and your comrades for playing along with the scenario!! Great looking boars head button, too! ;-)

      If I could change one thing about our exchange, it would have been to pull you and your pards to the next field over to build a small fire and boil up some coffee where the "bugs" couldn't see. That would have been great! But, the scenario as it developed is one I won't soon forget!!

      Mess'r Comer:
      I'm not sure who was on guard as we approached or where your line of pickets was. I assume that the fires we saw in the woodline were your outposts. We strolled right up to within 150 yards of those fires and move steadily forward over the course of about 45 minutes, calling the whole time for some "Billy" to come trade some tobacco. I think we ended up about 75 yards from that woodline, but I think we could have walked right up to the fires and no one would have questioned us until they saw our uniforms in the firelight.

      That's not a criticism. Just commenting on how our li'l foray developed. It was a lot of fun to call out, then listen as noise in your camp stopped and hear the hushed voices talking. We were basically squatting in the shadows at the woodline. We wore our gum blankets because we knew we could call out and no one would have a clue where the voices were coming from because, even with the bright moon, we were virtually invisible as black "lumps" in the shadows.

      Great event... my mind won't let go of it!!
      John Wickett
      Former Carpetbagger
      Administrator (We got rules here! Be Nice - Sign Your Name - No Farbisms)

      Comment


      • #18
        Re: Picket Post AAR

        On Friday, I had a lot of on-site, last-minute event coordination, staging, and preparation to conduct, never mind getting my traveling companions in the field and actually attending the event myself! To say I was a little stretched at times is an understatement, but things got accomplished, and I thank all the volunteers who helped with registration, directions, parking, and ensuring people found the sites alright and safely.

        After running all over the event site, I finally got changed over in hopes to not be late to my own Officer’s Call. As I arrived to the Federal staging camp I could feel a great vibe of mellow, but sustained excitement. Fires were burning, people were reconnecting with old friends, and new members were being brought into the fold. As people arrived they took to the same feeling and it only grew. Rations had been issued, fires were going, food was being cooked, and camp life was being conducted.

        At the officers’ call I set the parameters of the event and how we wanted to run things. From there, the event began. It began to get dark and a brilliant moon rose, illuminating the field, further enhanced by loads of fireflies and the sound of a whippoorwill’s call. As a good omen, an incredible shooting star streaked across the sky just above the trees. I caught the tail end of it, but it was stunning.

        I stood on the hill just down from the camp and listened to Tattoo being played by the field music and then Taps on the bugle. It echoed over the land and chilled me. I looked and saw our Adjutant, Lieutenant Tackitt, writing orders and finalizing plans with Sergeant Major Hicks by candlelight; good administration doesn’t stop when the sun sets.
        Finally climbing into my bedroll for a few hours of sleep, I later awoke for a moment and looked up at an amazing starry sky. It was just spectacular.

        On Saturday reveille was played by the field music. Some confusion still on what is required at each stage of music being played in the morning, but all tasks were accomplished, and that is what matters. I will not go into a dissertation on what call means what and in what order. Just have to pick up the manuals to get what I mean. The morning reports were submitted, duty calls made, and the entire battalion prepared for duty.

        The day dawned under leaden skies; gray, and misty, with chill moisture on the wind. Companies packed out and the Assembly was sounded. Formation occurred with a little hiccup due to a switch in the order of march, but everyone adjusted. Inspection was conducted and the formation then loaded weapons and marched out from the Brigade area for picket duty.

        Watching the column of companies come over the hill with fixed bayonets was a sight to behold, I can attest, and then moving from the marching formation to the tactical occurred as we set to move into potentially enemy-contested territory.

        Advanced guard, flankers, and rear guard were deployed and we moved through the country side with the appropriate intervals. We were not about to recreate the march of William Braddock at the Monongahela! Seeing that long column of Federal infantry was impressive.

        As we moved forward, the Battalion eased into the tactical mindset. Even at route step, the tone was subdued and more noise was generally made by a cough or the clink of a cup or equipment than anything else. This happened many times throughout the weekend.

        We reached our Reserve site and set out to conduct our Leader’s Reconnaissance to establish our lines, and, perhaps, to establish the presence of the enemy. The goal was not to become engaged, but to ascertain their whereabouts and maintain contact. It didn’t take long as we were scouting that our advanced patrols returned with confirmation of enemy activity.

        We established positions and then set into picket rotations. Six hour shifts with patrolling conducted throughout. Being as we were in newly-established areas, patrols in front and adjacent to our Reserve were sent out and appropriate reports and sketches we prepared and turned into the Adjutant.

        As the day progressed, the weather improved to a bright, sunny, day with cool breezes shuffling the leaves on the trees. A sense of anticipation developed. A desultory shot here, a return shot there, an active yet unseen enemy. One of their troops wandered into our lines. Lost and without sustenance he immediately surrendered. We took care of him as a prisoner and he was later repatriated. The day continued.

        Cooking and camp life at the Reserve progressed. Our Picket position was in a dry creek bed which was essentially a perfect trench line for defense. A previous heavy washout of the creek had created a natural abattis of thickly interwoven logs and sticks, sealing off the creek bed as an avenue of approach. We still had to guard our flanks, but this would be a fine fallback position. Outposts and sentinels were emplaced ahead of this we settled in for our time on the line.

        One unit would finish, another would relieve them. This happened during rotation and from wing to wing. Sometimes boring, always nerve wracking, the day moved forward at a seemingly plodding pace.

        Captain Craddock’s wing had just come off the line when an order to conduct a reconnaissance in force was delivered from the Brigade. Already tired from being the advanced guard as we moved through the countryside and then going immediately into the first round of picket rotation, they were roused from what they anticipated to be a long break to form for the task.

        Major Eichler’s Companies commanded by Captains Roscoe and Siltman would remain in support as it was his turn on the line, and Captain Craddock and his forces commanded by Captains Fair and Ferringer deployed in a double line of skirmishers with a company in line of battle behind them. As they moved through the field in the early evening, it was eerily quiet. An electric pulse was moving through the Battalion as the anticipation of contact mounted. I walked behind the formation with Sgt Major Hicks, our field music, and Lt Tackitt. The mood was amazing.

        Contact!! Shots started slowly and then built as Captain Craddock pressed his men forward. In the field and in the woods adjacent NCOs called out to their men to maintain order and continue to press. The enemy responded with a ferocious alacrity. Their counterattack was swift and violent. We had an idea of their lines, but were not able to ascertain their full layout due to the immediate response to our presence. These were not green troops and it was clear we were fighting seasoned veterans. Unknown to them, so were they.

        A pitched fight ensued, and we called for Major Eichler’s reserve who arrived at the double quick to reinforce the line. Still the enemy came on. Chaos ensued as the entire field and woods were engulfed in smoke. The rate of fire on both sides was tremendous. We were extended well on both sides, but we did not want to become decisively engaged, nor did we want to be outflanked on high ground. The retreat was sounded and the Battalion withdrew in good order, our field music keeping the mood by playing Downfall of Paris! Both Captain Craddock and Major Eichler preformed magnificently, their troops showing cool poise and discipline in the face of a determined enemy.

        Our withdrawal also meant the enemy was becoming extended, and they now risked the same outcome we had if they continue to pursue us since we had now reconsolidated in our lines with the full weight against the enemy advance. A few more shots and the fight dissipated as the enemy prudently withdrew, though we would likely not have held any ground we have previously taken due to their tenacity. I was impressed at their aggression, if guardedly so. The fight was incredible to behold and I found myself at a full sweat despite the near-perfect cool weather so uncharacteristic for late spring in Western Tennessee.

        Both sides settled into what each hoped would be a quiet night. After conducting an ammunition and casualty assessment (no casualties save a few light wounds, incredibly), Captain Craddock took over from Major Eichler once again for duty. His wing had been in near-constant action since reveille. His endurance and that of his men was nothing short of impressive. Major Eicher and his wing returned to the reserve for a much-needed rest, but all slept lightly for the long roll from the duty drummer could come at any moment.

        The night settled down and I felt as if I could get some rest, though my mind raced at what the enemy might be doing. I had to remain trustworthy of my subordinate leaders and the men in the Battalion; I certainly couldn’t affect the situation by fretting. I delivered Captain Craddock a hot meal personally, such was my esteem for his performance. I then returned to speak with Major Eichler, Sgt Major Hicks and the Adjutant about refinements to our anticipated schedule and settled down to sleep a few fitful hours.

        I thought I had been asleep ten minutes when Sgt Major Hicks woke me. I had been asleep for four hours. Disoriented and with stiff joints, I got dressed and set out for the line with our Commissary Sergeant, Sergeant Ricketts (Private Rector being sound asleep—the nerve!), with whiskey and ginger snaps for the men on the line. The unseasonable weather had yielded a damp, cold night and the chill air enveloped us all like a cool blanket. Under that same, deep starry sky, we headed into the darkness to visit the lines.

        One relief had already taken place and the candles moving through the trees indicated their line of march. We passed them en route and came upon a surreal scene. In the creek bed, three fires had been started. Huddled around them were the reserve elements for those not on duty to warm themselves. A line of candles illuminated the route up a branch of the creek where an industrious member of the Battalion, Captain Ferringer (an engineer before the war) had created a set of stairs with a shovel and stones to ingeniously allow people to come and go up and down the bank with ease. To our front, the outposts and sentinels stood silent duty, the night playing tricks as the moon moved across the sky, waned, and then the world was inky black.

        I stood on the bank with Sgt Major Hicks and listened to the men huddled around the fire. Their faces were lit by the glow and it seemed impossible this was not a painting. Morale was high for some, not so for others; each person had a different experience with the conditions and environment. One group was going on duty and had rested, the other was coming off and wanted nothing more than to be able to do so. Soldiers grumbled and tempers were tested as the last of Captain Craddock’s force moved to the reserve for coveted sleep. Major Eicheler and his men would remain on the line until daylight. As I bade him good evening (morning?) mentioned he would have his entire force stand-to at first light. It would prove a prudent decision.

        For Captain Craddock’s men, exhaustion was setting in. They returned and, for the first time in recorded history, ate the ginger snaps and eschewed the whiskey! It was not that way with Major Eichler’s command, I assure you. They fell asleep and I told Sgt Major Miles, our principal musician, that there would be no reveille played that morning to allow them to wake up naturally. Our field music was excellent all weekend, but the weary would likely have made a bonfire of the instruments and burned their attendant players had any musical noise been made.

        I too lay down for another nap and awoke with the sun shining and a cool breeze coming across damp fields with a deep mist rising from the grass. Rays of sunlight could be seen through the trees. I went to the Companies in Captain Craddock’s wing and walked among the men who were emerging from their beds, many of them looking refreshed. Never had 2-3 hours of sleep felt so glorious. I daresay many of them were in good humor since the whiskey was now not being refused.

        As the morning went on, an order came down that the 21st Wisconsin was to withdraw to the Brigade area. We would be moving to other places in the campaign and we needed to recover to refit for the march. Those in reserve went about packing their equipment and finishing breakfast. I, too, packed up the detritus of a headquarters to be put in the wagons later. My command group to include Lieutenants Runyon and Woodburn continued to keep the stories flowing and morale high. For a Quartermaster and Brigade Inspector respectively, there enthusiasm for this duty was remarkable. One of those whiskey jugs did feel unusually light, however. Who knows…

        As I sat finishing a cup of coffee, shots were heard. Then more. Then the long roll from the duty drummer to the front. I waited in anticipation for a runner from Major Eichler, but none came. The men of Captain Craddock’s wing immediately sprang to arms. Another crashing volley and the long roll played again. Clearly, every available man was needed.

        We donned our equipment and made for the front double-quick. It was impressive to see the companies move in column until they reached the trees and then undouble to move quickly through the woods. Further impressive is that the disciple never faltered and there was no mad-dash or mass of people running everywhere. Cool execution developed by seasoned leaders ruled the day.

        We arrived to witness Major Eichler and his command firmly engaged. With the sun coming up over the trees, the enemy remained largely unseen with mist and smoke enshrouding the woods and fields. The spark of muskets could be heard along with called commands, but the physical presence of the enemy was only largely felt, not seen. I again commend the enemy commander for taking advantage of attacking early in the morning after our foray the previous evening. That he further did so with the sun in our faces with mist to mask his movements is further testimony to tactical prowess.

        When the fight opened, Major Eichler sensed this was not a mere feint and immediately employed his reserve. Had he not, we might have been in a fight for our lines. The enemy attacked in column of companies through a narrow gap in the trees and deployed into the field ahead of our lines. This was the same field we had withdrawn across the evening prior and I did not envy their having to attack across its depth.

        Curiously, they did not deploy in a single line of battle, instead choosing to engage with three companies independently. They would have had much more strength and mass with the latter, but that proved to be to our advantage since we were able to bring the entire weight of the Battalion to our line as the lead company was attempting to break through. A crashing volley and charge sent them reeling, but they were far from defeated, the other two companies and those who remained from the lead one reconsolidating to pour in a withering fire.

        I reconstituted the Battalion to a single entity. For picket duty this was honestly not something I ever thought I would do, but damned if the circumstances didn’t dictate doing so. The line was established as a bulwark, the bugler sounded Fix Bayonet, and we moved the Battalion forward at arms port to drive the enemy back from our established line and regained our position. They began to withdraw, but still had plenty of fight left in them. I directed the Battalion fire en mass and a destructive, Battalion-sized volley slammed into them. We quickly reloaded and fired by rank to drive them yet further. The point was made, and Johnny withdrew in good order, never turning their backs on us until they were out of view.

        Defiant to the end, we stood with eyes fixed on our bayonets at the ready, prepared for a counterattack or to conduct one ourselves. The line held, and we stared with grudging respect in silence as the smoke cleared and revealed the bodies of the enemy. We ourselves could now ascertain our own losses. It had be hard on both sides. Several killed, five wounded for the 21st Wisconsin. We found from one of the enemy wounded, who later died of wounds, they were from the 9th Tennessee. No wonder they fought so hard; they were defending their home. We would have done the same.

        Once the enemy withdrew it occurred to me what a melee it had been. In the mist and smoke I had watched people fight hand-to-hand. Rifles used as clubs. Bayonets thrust. Rocks picked up to smash. True, primordial violence. The basest of man’s obscenities encapsulated in that one visual. I will never forget it.

        I withdrew Captain Craddock’s force to the Reserve and told Major Eichler of our orders. He would not be relieved, but just return to the reserve to consolidate with us to return to the brigade area. As they were doing so, we heard a loud volley from the Johnnies—one final rebellious blast.

        We returned the way we had come, in good order, with security being posted, but moved a bit more swiftly, though everyone was tired. As we came to the Brigade area we reformed companies, marched forward into line as I wanted everyone in the Brigade to see the pride of the 21st Wisconsin on full display, and halted to fire our last volley as a unit. We dismissed from there for some richly deserved rest. The Battalion had performed magnificently to a man and I believe all were proud of their conduct. I know I was and it was my esteemed pleasure and privilege to do so.

        Thanks for a great weekend, everyone. In closing, I offer the following observations and recommendations:

        We had an idea of what we wanted to accomplish. No matter how scripted or planned, the people who participate in the event have to DO it. I wasn’t sure we could execute an event like this on this scale. This weekend proved that we could.

        Better first person. Sure there are slip ups, but these events work better if everyone tries. I think this got better as time went on and the event became the environment for the weekend. Tough to do, and even more so to do well. We have the best kits out there, so this is a natural step to improving ones impression, I think. I am sure Hank Trent could give some pointers on how to do this more naturally than I can.

        Drill. Individual and collective drill leads to better battalion formations and maneuvers. We did pretty well on the Federal side, but I think the authentic community doesn’t do it enough on large scales to be good at it. We can be, however, and with each event (like this, Adjunct, or otherwise) I hope each unit will build upon their last experience. Yes, it is a pain in the neck at times, and also time consuming, but it is worth it. Sunday at Bentonville last year proved that.

        Medical and emergency plan. We had one, it was known by the practitioners on both sides and it was simple, yet detailed. It had to be enacted a few times, but it was done so professionally and the participants were able to be cared for without shutting down the event. Job well done.

        I look forward to taking to the field again soon whether at Cross Keys, Perryville, or any other time we can work together soon.

        I trust everyone made it home safely and are recovering by cleaning wool, wood, metal, glass, and leather. Thanks so much for your support and dedication and it was my esteemed honor and privilege to lead and command this weekend. On behalf of all of us at 40 Rounds Events, Job well done to all and you can be justifiably proud of your commitment to accomplishing what we did at the Picket Post: Along the Kentucky Line.

        FORTY ROUNDS!!!
        Ivan Ingraham
        AC Moderator

        Comment


        • #19
          Re: Picket Post AAR

          A fine event indeed.

          I served as the senior company commander for the CS side and was informed by Col. Coats that I would be acting as commander of the right wing for the weekend. My company was with Capt. Chastain's and Capt. Bush's companies. The three of us worked very well together and I think our wing did well throughout the weekend. We accomplished what was ordered of us and a bit more.

          Co. B was the largest of the CS companies and we had a mix of fellows from all over. It was very nice to see everyone pitch in and serve as a unit and I think our company worked darn near flawlessly in everything we did. It was an honor to work with these men.

          Friday night found us in a fine camp and the ration issue was more than adequate for the lads. My orderly, Sgt. Sheets got everything organized and we were ready to step off Saturday morning when called upon. Friday evening carried a bit of a chill but was still a comfortable night for sleeping and everyone awoke well rested and ready to move out to do our duty as guards.

          After a bit of a march over what could loosely be called a 'trail', we arrived at the edge a large field. Being the lead element in the column, I deployed my company as skirmishers and we moved across to make sure there were no enemy to our front. We did the same as we came across several more fields but each time we saw no enemy. Upon arrival at the area we were ordered to establish guard, Colonel Coats accompanied me to the front and told me where he wanted the sentinel line, picket line and reserve line posted and I set about to make that happen. We were established very shortly and settled down to the monotonous detail that is guard duty.

          Our 6 hour shift was uneventful. We did see the occasional Federal flitting about in the distance and decided that we were seeing some of their sentinels and there was no need to worry. However, vigilance was the theme of the day and the boys kept an eager eye to their front after knowing there was an enemy facing us.

          After being relieved by the left wing, we retired to our camp for Saturday and established ourselves on a wooded hill where there was plenty of firewood and good areas to sleep and cook. It was nice to have a rest for a while but the temperature had dropped and it was obvious we were in for a cold night.

          As we were kitting back up to resume our place on the line for the 7 pm to 1 am shift, we could hear shots in the distance. Col. Coats wanted us to form up quickly to go to the relief of our comrades. We started to fall into line. Capt. Chastain's company was quick to organize and was sent on ahead in case they were needed. Capt. Bush followed and my company came up in the rear. We could hear the sounds of fighting intensify and knew it was hot up front. Chastain and Bush were needed and got into the scrap but my company was held in reserve and moved up as our comrades pushed the enemy farther and farther.

          We stayed to do our next duty assignment which passed uneventfully although the chill became more obvious and it was rather cold when we came off the line. Our relief was late and the march back to our camp was very slow going and treacherous in the dark.

          Sunday morning came and we arose after a few hours of fitful sleep to resume our place on the line again. Col. Coats ordered me to take my wing and probe the Federals before we relieved the left wing. He wanted to know where the sentinel line was and perhaps where their main picket line was. We immediately moved to the front. Capt. Hebert was on our outer lines and informed me of what he had seen to his front. The enemy was not far off.

          I formed my men and we proceeded to move forward. We struck the sentinel line quickly and firing broke out. There were some Federals in the woods to my right and I sent some men to clear them out. Firing was on the left and I ordered Capt. Chastain to take his company and drive them off. Capt. Bush had unfortunately had become separated and was on the wrong trail which took him out of the fight completely. It was obvious very quickly that we were in for a hot fight as I could see Federals filing out of the woods into the field in front of us. We were outnumbered but I was not ready to fall back and could see reinforcements coming up to the rear. Capt. Hebert's company was moving up to my right so I shifted my line into the woods on our left to make room for him and try to anchor my line on Capt. Chastain. While making these dispositions I could see even more Federals filing into the field to our front. It seemed as if they had been expecting us and were ready to respond. Hebert brought his men up at the double quick and went into line on my right. I assumed he was going to continue moving and ordered my men to advance to support him. With a shout we cleared the woods but I immediately saw we had no support on either flank. After a few moments, I ordered a retreat back to the woods and heard the enemy give a shout as we moved back. Another group of the enemy could be seen moving up in battle line and they began to press us heavily. My company wavered. I tried to get them to hold the line because more relief was coming to our aid but without knowing where Chastain was on my left and the press of the enemy on us our situation became untenable. My line started to break. I tried desperately to get them back into line shouting that they needed to kill the enemy and hold their position but it was of no use. The line melted away and the enemy rushed us with a shout. I was carried with the tide and turned and ran myself.

          My boys did all they could do but we fell victim to the fog of war. I later learned that Capt. Chastain had met Federals in the creek bed to our left and was unable to anchor his right on my left. If Capt. Bush's company had not been lost, we would have fared much better but we did the best we could under the circumstances. Although the fight was a stinging defeat, and we lost several good men killed and captured, we did accomplish the orders we were given and located the enemy line and got an idea of the force to our front. Having fought bravely and with honor, I pulled my wing back to the main guard line where we once again established ourselves. After awaiting a Federal counter move that did not develop, we settled down once again to the drudgery that is guard duty.
          Michael Comer
          one of the moderator guys

          Comment


          • #20
            Re: Picket Post AAR

            This was the first immersion event I have ever experienced in nearly twenty-one years of reenacting. I must say it was awesome! This was the most realistic historical experience I have ever had. This reminded me of my days in the modern infantry, only cooler; both literally and metaphorically speaking!

            I was assigned as a private in "Fighting" Mike Comer's Company B of the 9th TN Inf. Our Orderly informed us on Friday evening that we were to draw two days rations and have them prepared before dawn on Saturday in preparation for Picket duty. We were somewhat relieved that we were getting a break from the monotony of drill and fatigue duties, if only for a couple of days. We hastily drew rations before dusk and were quite surprised at the quality of the fare. We quickly lit fires and began to cook the fine slab bacon, cornmeal, and rice. Our mess combined fry pans, cups, and boilers to speed the process. After frying the pork I volunteered to fry up the meal into dodgers for the mess. The night being somewhat warm, and my duties requiring me to be near the fire caused me to perspire, which resulted in spending a very chilled night in my damp shirt.

            Next morning at dawn we fell in and began to march out for duty. We were the first company and deployed as skirmishers in Van for the battalion. Once our Colonel chose the location for us to establish sentinels we immediately assumed our posts. Some of the boys said they could see the enemy sentinels but I did not. I think some of the young ones were antsy because the wind was blowing slightly and causing the foliage to move. We came off our sentinel posts and moved into the guard reserve. Everything went pretty well until our Captain sent out a patrol. One of our boys became disoriented and we later discovered, wandered into the Federal lines and became a prisoner. We were really concerned because it was said that the NCO in charge of the patrol had ordered his men to leave canteens behind so as to better maintain noise discipline. I didn't think that was such a good idea but I'm just a private and I wasn't on the patrol.

            Later we moved into the reserve position and took the opportunity to get some rest and cook more rations. We were thrilled to learn that our missing private had been returned to us from the Federals. As we were preparing to move out for our next shift on the picket line that evening, we began to hear sporadic gunfire near the line. Our Captain hastily fell us in and marched us out towards the sound of the fight. We arrived and were held in reserve. It was a mighty hot fight to our front; several spent bullets whistled through the trees around our heads. Our boys managed to push the Federals back to their lines and came back through us with one killed, that I saw, and a few wounded. They moved back into reserve and we again established our sentinel line. The boys in our company were mighty nervous, we figured the Federals would counter attack ,but it soon became obvious that they had no intention of doing so. We could hear their bugles sounding the end of day and such. We were really nervous to, because some of the boys in other companies in the reserve were making so much noise a hollering and laughing that we was afraid they were going to draw artillery fire. We came off sentinel with nothing of any significance having transpired. We moved back to Guard reserve and huddled around our fires until we were relieved by another company and moved back to the reserve.

            The movement back to our camp in the reserve was quite treacherous! It was so dark you could barely see your hand in front of your face, much less the rocky ground under your feet. My messmate and I lit a fire near our feet and decided to combine our blankets and ground cloths for the night. I put my back to his and his to mine and we were able to get a couple of hours of good warm sleep.

            Next morning Capt. Comer fell us in and marched us towards the picket line and told us we were to probe the Federal line. We all became anxious and wide awake at the prospect of what before us. We deployed as skirmishers and moved a hundred yards or so when we made contact with the Federal pickets on the right of our company. One shot killed a private in first platoon. We continued to move as skirmishers when the yanks to our front began to mass. The captain had us reform as a company and we moved into a thicket to establish a base of fire. We fired by file at the growing mass of blue and began to fire at will. Captain said as soon as the other companies come up we would push them. I heard firing all around and bullets were whizzing over and all around us. They were literally cutting the vines and briars around my head. The yanks kept coming but we were getting no support from the other companies, I found out later that the one on our left was being flanked. We kept firing but the Federals were getting reinforced. Two yankee staff officers exposed themselves behind one of their companies. I picked out the one I thought to be in command, took a fine bead and squeezed the trigger. Dust flew from his upper body as he whirled to the earth. Must have spent off his gear because he was quickly up and moving shortly thereafter. Captain Comer was pleading with our dwindling ranks to keep up a fire and I was trying desperately to do so. Some of the men to my left and right seemed to be frozen in panic and were not firing. The Federals then fixed bayonets and began to push. I turned around to look at the captain and he had "blood in the eye" he said " kill em boys," kill em". I so desperately wanted to hold my position and did manage to get off another shot, but by this time the fire was too hot and the Yankees were only about twenty yards away. I looked to my left and my right and I was one of only about four still standing. I turned and began to run and the captain reluctantly ran also!

            I heard something over my left shoulder and it was a Federal about to jump a feller to my left. The yankee was only a kid, a blonde headed boy of about 19. I took my rifle and clubbed him in the head with the butt and watched him fall lifelessly to the ground. The captain managed to rally the company while the firing continued. Some of the boys were so determined to regain their exact position in the line not realizing that we had lost several in the fight. Some of us were screaming to them to just fall in anywhere; it was mass confusion. Finally the firing died down and the Federals moved back. Boy did we get a licking!

            We were ordered to fall back and establish Guard reserve for a short time before being pulled off the line to be replaced by another regiment. We were exhausted from sleep deprivation and the nervousness of the fight. While marching back to the main body I couldn't help but think of the poor Federal boy I had clubbed and only hope that he still lives.

            Thanks for the wonderful experience. I look forward to doing many more of these in the future.
            [FONT=Book Antiqua][/FONT]James Damon
            "Wretched Mess"
            [COLOR="#0000CD"]Randolph Ldg. #71 PM F.A.M[/COLOR]

            Comment


            • #21
              Re: Picket Post AAR

              I've been remiss in posting my critique here, and for that I apologize to Ivan and the staff. Their hard work and efforts deserve better. Now, I say critique because certainly others are not interested in my first person account of last weekend. We were all there, we all have our own memories.

              I will say this was the most military civil war event I've ever experienced. Waking up at zero dark thirty on Sunday AM, I half expected picket duty to be canceled. To be honest, I'd seen such at past events in far more acclimated conditions. But shaking out of a frozen sleep, and damn it was cold for May, I knew it wouldn't be the case. Ivan is a military guy, and sometimes you need that push from a commander. Truth be told, we were actually better off down in the creek bed reserve post.

              My observations-

              First and foremost, a bunch of dudes tanked on this thing. I understand everyone has responsibilities via real world, and also shite happens, but mother of God a fifty percent attrition rate is comical for us. Our company was hit especially hard, of which I'm not proud. More on that shortly. This event could have been SO much more with a full Federal battalion, and I think our commander was hit hard by this realization. But I digress.

              It was the intent of the event organizers to hold a high quality immersion by capping numbers at 100 rifles, figuring only the best would be allowed in. I'm ok with this, but the way to go about is pick four-five companies to build around, with specific captains in mind, and let THEM recruit their own companies. I threw this out initially, but it was not considered. Perhaps it would allow a slightly larger control of the company roster if the captains actually selected and allowed the men into their ranks. Perhaps a particular captain might spot a name that has been known in the past as an Internet Campaigner. You know, those who like everyone to see their name on the registration list yet mysteriously fail to attend. I mean, anything is better than 50% attrition.

              Ration issue sucks when battalion gives out the food and only 10% of the company is on site. Nothing to be done about that, and we worked through it. I will say that EVERYONE in Company E had a hot meal Friday night of beef, potatoes, and onions. We also issued salt pork, peaches, rice, vegetables, and minnows. Good job Huck, that boiled beef tasted just as good coming out of the haversack Saturday night.

              One curve thrown our way, at least those in Company E who hail from the Trans Miss, was the daylight schedule. Land Between the Ticks is located on the eastern edge of the central time zone. I swear this focked with our guys badly. We should've taken our cue Sat morning when it was near daylight at 430 AM. Our afternoon picket shift that day ran from 2-8pm. Well, at 8pm in Texas you can still see outside. Not so for Land Between the Lakes. Not only did we nearly bust our asses walking back to camp in pitch black darkness, but we had failed to gather firewood at the Grand Reserve camp, thinking we'd have daylight to do so. The fog of war.

              I won't wax poetic on the individual and detailed experiences I had. Hell, I was just lucky to make it through the weekend having been five weeks off cartilage surgery on my left knee. My greatest enjoyment was seeing all my old pards I'd met through the years. Some I haven't seen in years. My God, serving in a Federal battalion with Ivan Ingraham, Will Eichler, Pat Craddock, Silas Tackitt, and Brian Hicks as Sgt Maj? I mean, are you focking kidding me? The commissary run by Huck. Justin Runyon helping out as needed. Eric Fair, Andy Roscoe. This was a dream team, and whoever blew this event off callously did so at their own extreme detriment.

              Ivan Ingaham showing up at 200AM at the Picket Reserve in the creek bed, sporting cookies and whiskey rations, was probably my greatest experience in the hobby. He continuously asked the commanders that weekend about morale in their companies. Well dude, you sent morale in Company E sky high at that moment. Gratitude for that.

              I appreciate the men I've come to know in this hobby. We represent something truly unique and different, and are the best in this entire country of 350 million. I'm proud of that. Thanks to Erik Auger for parding up, and to Chief Jonathan Siltman for not wilting under Will Eichler's scrutiny. You're learning fast, keep listening. ET, Dustin Darby hope you guys heal up quickly. Mark Susnis, Wick, Mess #1, the Wisconsin guys (nice finally meeting Jason Reinholz), see you again soon.

              Forty focking rounds.

              Edit: Was negligent in not mentioning Andrew Jerram, but geez AJ only saw you for like five freaking minutes before registration. Well done!
              Last edited by Strawfoot; 05-20-2016, 09:47 AM.
              Mike Phineas
              Arlington, TX
              24th Missouri Infantry
              Independent Volunteer Battalion
              www.24thmissouri.org

              "Oh, go in anywhere Colonel, go in anywhere. You'll find lovely fighting all along the line."

              -Philip Kearny

              Comment


              • #22
                Re: Picket Post AAR

                Very remiss in failing to mention Jordan Ricketts on the commissary staff. Apologies my friend, that boiled beef was tits.
                Mike Phineas
                Arlington, TX
                24th Missouri Infantry
                Independent Volunteer Battalion
                www.24thmissouri.org

                "Oh, go in anywhere Colonel, go in anywhere. You'll find lovely fighting all along the line."

                -Philip Kearny

                Comment


                • #23
                  Re: Picket Post AAR

                  Salient points, Mike, and thanks for taking the time to provide feedback.

                  Yours and others who have contacted me offline have provided great perspective for the next one. We are a learning organization at 40 Rounds Events!

                  We partied with those who made it. Thanks again, everyone, who attended.
                  Ivan Ingraham
                  AC Moderator

                  Comment


                  • #24
                    Re: Picket Post AAR

                    Originally posted by Strawfoot View Post
                    Very remiss in failing to mention Jordan Ricketts on the commissary staff. Apologies my friend, that boiled beef was tits.
                    Amen!
                    That roasted beef in the haversack was great and NONE of it went to waste! I munched on it throughout the event and Huck made some great hash for our mess with what was left on Saturday afternoon!
                    John Wickett
                    Former Carpetbagger
                    Administrator (We got rules here! Be Nice - Sign Your Name - No Farbisms)

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