AAR: Visit Sunny Zoar!

So, what was I doing last weekend, you might wonder? Well, not much pony wise. No, I was off at another Civil War Reenactment, once again manning the cannons of the Statehouse Battery. The reenactment was in Zoar, a small town with an awesome historical district full of building from the early and mid 19th century. The community was originally one of the many kooky religious societies, and was founded by German immigrants. The society had a hard time adapting to life in the US initially and nearly starved at one point… after which they became a sort of primitive communist village. The Sesch had camping grounds inside the historic town, and we Union boys outside. There were two battles on Saturday and Sunday, on opposite sides of the town… Saturday we fought the Battle of the Wilderness and on Sunday the Battle of Spotslyvania Courthouse. I walked ten (!) miles all told that weekend, and was heartily glad that our position for Sunday’s battle was on the same levee as the Artillery Camp was and not far from it. I’ll give you a sketch (lightly fictionalized to remove such anachronisms as pickup trucks & ect.) of my time there, and those moments where I was really in the moment:

I sat astride the wheel horse, looking back at our gun and the rest of our section. We’d just been sent down an unrelenting muddy slope, deep into the woods, as the enemy advanced upon us. Behind us the whole of the battery stood, waiting for directions from the Col. . The word came, the other guns were to go up on the nearby rise and we were to go even deeper into the primeval abyss “into the hole”. In spite of the storm before the battle, it was still hot and muggy. My coat was soaking from the heat, the humidity, and most of all the rain that had been cooling at first but then all too penetrating. We unlimbered and went into position, our gun at a right angle from the rest of our battery. Our cannon’s barrel just poking through a hole in the tree line, and on the other side of the rough track out limber and horses were safely nestled in behind nature’s verdant battlements. We had the Rebs dead to states rights, enfilading their line. The Sgt looked at his watch… the appointed hour arrived! Our gun was the first to open on the foe, with a roar unlike anything we had heard before. The smoke hugged the ground, as as we beached forth round after round the battle disappeared into a thick, eerie fog. Only the occasional cry of men in attack or retreat, or the crack of a rifle disturbed the deadly silence. Our only sign now of our allies was their guns thunderous report, dispelling the wisps of smoke that curled from our cannon’s touch hole. One eye was always on the road, as we were expecting our cavalry to come thundering up, which eventually they did.

Then, as soon as it was begun, our battle was over, and we were headed back to camp. We once more lead the way for the artillery, forging farther up the rude forrest path. We were tired, but victorious. Then, our gun ground to a halt suddenly, a barricade had been thrown up to block our path! Off we piled from horse, limber, gun, and caisson. The path must be cleared! A fallen tree was the lynch pin of the breastworks, I seized it presently and with greater exertion of strenght than I thought I possessed lifted it and rolled it aside. Logs and branches went flying aside at the hands of the intrepid artillerists and we were soon underway again. We passed through the battlefield, stopping periodically to take up our suffering comrades stricken by heat and by bullet. Every man’s canteen went out to the red faced infantryman for whom we feared and in high spirits I declared that we were not just artillerists, or engineers, but omnibus conductors. We trundled back to camp, rather satisfied with ourselves.

That night, the enemy began his advance on our camps, and we went right into battery once more just a few yards from our tents. As the sun set, we opened up upon them. I found drill even more a challenge in the dark, though I think we gave good account of ourselves. I for one was glad to be once more supported by other guns, including some of the latest Parrot & Ordinance rifles which put our old James 6 pdr to shame. Looking to my right, I could see the fire of the guns, spitting fire like dragons of old. But their crews, like ghosts who also wander at dusk, were barely perceptible in the clouds of unburnt powder, fading in and out of view. Our gun too sent great spark showers flying out into the night… it is a sight I will not soon forget, with it’s deadly beauty. Then the Rebs retreated, with the setting sun, and the clear and cool moon rose over our Union town once more.

The next morning, I went down into the town, and foraged once more. My haversack was filled with nothing but crumbs now, and I knew I would need something more to sustain me. So I went around the house I’d foraged apples from the day before, and got myself three more. I also was given a pastry by a lovely lady who’d been offering vouchers the preceding day when we first marched in to town. It was a very successful foraging mission indeed, but there was something yet to do. I retrieved my wallet, and counted out my greenbacks. I looked up at the morning sun beaming down on me. The old log house’s roof was swaybacked, and the paint pealed from it’s oxblood shutters. The old apple tree bent as it had for the preceding fifty years over the rotten and half collapsed fence. I am a soldier of the United States Army, my duty is to defend my fellow citizens property, and compensate them for anything taken in times of need, I though, remembering the orders I’d been read long ago at the beginning of the war. There were six dollars in my hand, one for each apple. I found a worm eaten apple lying in the road, and picked it up. Careful not to step over the boundary, I thread my way along the corner of the fence. A suitable post, visible to my unwitting benefactors but masked by brush from the road, I laid my payment beneath an apple. Then off I marched, to another battle, on another field, on yet another hot and humid day.

Anyhow, it was a super fun time once again, if a hot and sticky one. I was glad, ultimately, that I decided to hotel it with my Mom this time (she also reenacts). The bugs would have probably eaten me, if I hadn’t! And good night’s sleep is worth it’s weight in gold when you have to do it all over again the next day. Hope you enjoyed my little sketch!