Part of Civil War @ Charleston
Summary: This report, compliled from dispatches by Max Shaw of the 47th. New York, containes the announced plans for, a narrative account of and a technical critique of the Western Brigade Tactical held in Kentucky On November 1-3, 1996, an attempt to create an authentical Civil War tactical atmosphere with effective control and meaningful evaluation.
By Alan Rainey
Summary: My quick and painless death in defense of the commonwealth or what it was like to be a nearsighted private in the third company, first battalion, of the Federal forces at the Fall 1996 Western Tactical
The drum sounds the Musicians Call and I wake with a start. The straw that started the evening so warm and fluffy has long since molded itself to the contours of the lumpy ground and my hips. Since my bed is no longer inviting, I roll myself out of the blanket and grope for my boots in the predawn darkness. Grunting, I pull them on and struggle out from under the confines of the shelter half.
The morning is warm for November and the coals in the fire pit quickly spring to life. Pards, shaking the sleep from their bones, appear like spirits rising from the darkness and move toward the growing glow of the fire. Canteens gurgle as water fills tin cups and the boys begin to brew their coffee.
A bugle blows a call, the sharp clear tones hang briefly in the air. "What does that mean?" "Don't know, but he sounds like he knows what he's doing." "What time is it? Surely we don't need to be up this early." "Yeah, I heard we're not supposed to get started 'til 9:00."
As if in answer, a figure with Sergeant Major stripes steps from the shadows. "Third company? I need five pickets and you're volunteering. Fall in on the Color Line at 6:30. Light marching order." And off he goes.
"Damn, volunteered again! What have you got there?" "Some jerky. Can I have one of those crackers?"
The sky is just beginning to lighten as the guard detail moves out. The Sergeant of the Guard marches us down a track that traverses the hill our camp is on. The guard is changed post by post until I am the last man left. "Private, you're post runs from here down to that thicket. Shoot anyone you can't identify". And off they go, leaving me alone on the left flank, squinting into the misty darkness.
I move down the hillside to where the ground slopes off at such a steep angle that a man would be hard pressed to climb back up. As the morning becomes brighter, the last yellows and reds of the fall leaves are revealed. Men from the camps come to the edge of the woods to use the sinks and never notice me. For two and a half hours I patrol my post, locating stumps I can sit on to rest my legs. Sounds of the battalions assembling drift down to my position. Is it possible that they have forgotten me?
"All pickets in!" The shout is repeated and I scramble up the hill. "Fall in Third Company. Full marching order!" My pards and I squirm into our knapsacks and blanket rolls as we trot towards the rest of the battalion. We come on line and quickly count off. "Battalion, right face" and we march off. As we pass by a gaggle of officers, I hear the Colonel talking to his staff about a flanking movement on the town of Bell Grove. Soon, the head of the column turns off the narrow road and, undoubling to columns of twos, and then to single file, we march into country that becomes increasingly difficult. We start down an incredibly steep slope, then counter march back up. Men stagger and tumble, and the companies intermingle. The sound of skirmishing followed by the report of a field piece grabs everyone's attention. The crash of a volley nearby seems to indicate that the Second Battalion has engaged with someone. Realizing that subterfuge has been thwarted by the terrain, the Colonel opts for the expediency of a road and the column heads back to the track.
As we clear the trees, the command "At the double quick" rings out. Musket to right shoulder shift, I begin to shuffle along under the weight of my knapsack. As we catch up to the head of the column, we drop back to quick time and press forward through the village of Bell Grove and down to a crossroads where the boys of Stone's Battery are busy with an ordnance rifle. We move on down the road.
The trees begin to thin and the ground on either side of the track begins to flatten out. Second Battalion is in line to our right and firing briskly into the woods at their front. We form a battle line on their left flank. We advance with the first company on the road, the rest of us strung out in a tangle of tall weeds, saplings and briars. The officers shout and holler for us to maintain our alignment, but the vegetation makes a mockery of our efforts. The men begin to drift towards the road and easier going. To the staff's dismay, the formation is now nothing more than a mass of blue moving forward.
A general on horseback rides up. "Change front forward by the right of companies." We sense we are on the Rebel right flank and quickly form a battle line along the road. The boys move out, hot to engage. Someone spots a small field piece ahead and the line is halted and lies down. The piece fires, and then another. The artillery has fired and the staff seizes the opportunity. "Rise up. Left wing, ready... aim . .. FIRE!' "Right wing, Forward!"
Suddenly, voices shouting "Cease Fire" bring a halt to the action. Men in 20th century camouflage fatigues move quickly through the ranks handing out white tickets. "Damn, a gut wound" states a man down the line. He falls out and heads to the rear. We are now experiencing an Administrative time-out. The judges, officers from the US Army at Fort Knox, are tallying up the scores and thinning the ranks with casualty chits. Rumor has it that our maneuver has captured the field pieces and we are victorious. The Lt. Colonel has us sit down and rest. I flop down, using my knapsack as a chair back, and rearrange my canteen and haversack to relieve the cutting pressure of the straps on my shoulder.
Musket fire suddenly erupts on our left flank. Evidently, the Secesh have resumed play. Unfortunately, the referees have not informed us, and we beat a hasty retreat back to the cannon on the road. Reorganized into a battle line, our muskets, and a few rounds from the field piece make the gray-backs think better of a frontal attack. As things quiet down, a major sends my platoon out as skirmishers.
My file mates and I move forward carefully. We soon discover the papers of many used rounds... someone was here recently. We hear a noise in the ravine to our left. My two pards scurry down the hill side to investigate, leaving me squinting down the trail. Alone for the second time in the morning, I feel very exposed. Several minutes pass. Periodically, there is thrashing in the brush to my front and in the ravine to my left. To the right I catch glimpses of a horseman, but my near-sightedness prevents a positive identification. I am beginning to get spooked.
An officer comes up from behind. "Are you aware there are men sneaking up the ravine?" He points off into the brush and then beats a hasty retreat. I cautiously move to the edge of the slope and see three figures climbing up. The one in front is wearing gray and carrying a carbine. I hide behind a tree, take aim and fire. As I start to reload, I recognize my pard's voice. "Stop shooting at us, you blind old fool!". They climb out of the ravine as I stare at their companion. . . they have a prisoner!
Before we can discuss the capture, an officer appears and tells us to return to the battalion. It is clear the rebels have withdrawn, and our staff has decided to return to camp. A company of Ohioans is helping the gun crew wheel the piece down the narrow road. We double quick around the cannon, sweating just slightly less than the boys that are manhandling the gun. Up the road, firing begins in our camp. We trot through the camp to a line of logs that are quickly becoming a low breastworks. We reinforce the line by unslinging our knapsacks and piling them on the timbers. The gun rolls up and is unlimbered to our right.
We crouch behind our works and watch as men from the Second Battalion begin to tumble back from the woods in our front. What's left of their battle line assembles at the edge of the clearing that is our camp. As they loose a ragged volley, the shouts of "Cease Firing" are again heard. The woods in front of the remnants of the Second Battalion is now alive with Confederates. They begin to cheer... evidently the judges have decided their charge has over run the Federal position. They have not yet noticed the men of the First Battalion lying behind the logs.
As the boys of the Second Battalion work their way through our lines the Rebel commander appears, asking if his men can have a turn at the water in the rear of our camp. Much to his dismay, our commander shouts back that he may have as much water as he likes, as soon as he surrenders his command. The lads of the First Battalion roar their approval. The stage is set.
The Rebel line is extensive. A few cavalrymen in their front taunt us but our officers urge patience. I reach in my cartridge box and lay out several rounds where they will be handy. I lay on my side, rifle capped and ready.
With a shout, the Confederates start forward. Our cannon roars and the Battalion begins firing by rank "Rear rank... Fire!" "Front rank... Fire!" "Fire at will!" I roll on my back, pour the cartridge down the barrel, powder dropping in my eyes. Roll on my side, cap the nipple, roll on my belly, aim, fire. Repeat, repeat, repeat. After who knows how long, I am beginning to cramp. I stand up to relieve the aches and start to load again. I am tapped on the arm and a white ticket is handed to me. I glance down at it. I am killed.
By Bill Holschuh
Let's play a word association game. If I say the word "tactical" and you have ever participated in one in the past, I'll bet words like "arguments," "disorganized," "inconclusive," or "cluster - - - -" come to mind. Most of the tacticals I have participated in have either been dull due to lack action or unsatisfying because both sides thought they should have won. In my opinion, there are two reasons most tacticals have been disappointing:
1) the absence of a good judging system and
2) lack of control.
Both of these shortcomings were at the top of the list of concerns when the planning of the recent Western Tactical began over a year ago. Thanks to a great group of real Army guys from the Armor School at Fort Knox, the judges were in place. The criteria they used to assess casualties was the result of the combined efforts of Staff Sgt. John Broom (who is military historian at the Armor School,) Alan Huffines and Geoff Walden (both are reenactors and real world Army officers) and Chuck Warnick, who coordinated the planning of the entire event. To make a long story short, it worked! The result was the most realistic combat experience possible, short of the real thing.
The second problem from past experience was control. Some of you will recall a large tactical (over 800 participants) held in the spring of 1991 at Land-Between-The-Lakes, KY. Great site, lots of good troops, good judges (although not nearly enough of them,) but once things got under way, no one had a clue what was going on. Realistic you say? Maybe so, but what we come to these kind of events for is to encounter the enemy and have at it. At LBL, we mostly searched in vain for each other.
This time it was different, mostly due to the efforts of Jim Gibbs, whose past experience included the frustration of being in charge of the Signal Corps at LBL. Each of the 15 or so judges were equipped with a hand-held radio so they could report the position of the troops assigned to them.
Prior to the event, Jim had marked the area of operations with reference points that were also marked on every ones' maps. Back at HQ, we had a conference table-sized map with markers to represent each infantry battalion, artillery piece and cavalry detachment. It was just like watching someone play a war game, except that about a half mile away it was really happening. If you opened the window, you could hear the noise from the battle.
Prior to the event, the following information on its planning and goals was distributed. It is set out here as background.
FIXED CAMPS. Due to the early war nature of a Kentucky event, there will be Fixed Camp Sites available with a straw allowance. These fixed camps will be located deep in the tactical area will be OBJECTIVES as they will represent Supply Depots. They will also act as supply depots in the true sense as well, as we will be attempting to have ammunition and other supplies brought out to the Campaign Army via wagon(s) from these supply camps. Those camping in Supply Camps will have to help build works and run a complete Mahan's Outpost beginning early Saturday morning through Sunday. Expect to be attacked at this camp both during the day and also all night Saturday night. This is the first time we have tried this, because we want to make the tactical experience available to ALL reenactors, and not just the hard-core campaigners.
CAMPAIGN ARMY. The main armies involved with this tactical will be on the march and will be CAMPAIGN style all weekend. They will only carry what they can on their backs and will camp in various locations throughout the weekend CAMPAIGN-STYLE ONLY! Expect a good march and hard-core living/campaigning throughout the weekend. This is a true hard-core experience, so make sure you are aware of the hard-ships involved, but it is the closest thing you will ever experience to the actual war. It is rewarding and truly educational.
JUDGES. The judges for this tactical will be Officer's of the U.S. Army Observer Controller Team based at Fort Knox, Kentucky. These judges have been briefed on the various weapons and tactics of the Civil War soldier, and have worked with us before at our 1994 Western Tactical, and are very familiar with how we operate. They will determine casualties, and critique our movements both on the march and in battle after the campaign for the day is over each day. Various judges will be assigned to EACH battalion of infantry, artillery and cavalry. They did an outstanding job in 1994, and they should be even better this year!
MISCELLANY
As of 25 October, more than 1500 have pre-registered.
Roads into the area and very wide, very hard packed, not the type to turn to mud at the first rain. Open rolling hills, light/heavy grassy areas, light & heavy brush, trees, easy access. Lots of room to maneuver and camp.
There is a limit of 60 rounds to be carried by cavalry and infantry. Resupply will be made on as needed basis. Each man is expected to have 200 rounds, 60 on his person, the rest packed in company ammo boxes. Each man is responsible fro his own food and ammunition. In addition, an extra 6 pieces of hardtack are to be turned over to Barton's Brigade Supply Tent for issue during the event. I will be bringing my Wedge tent to be Company C's supply and rest area. Extra food may be left in this tent.
While talking about ammunition, it is requested that all rounds be of high quality, light brown or tan paper, 60 grains of powder, rounds packaged 10 to a bundle with a pack of 12 caps. NO glue, tape, staples, or newsprint.
Uniforms will be early western campaign with sack coats and slouch hats if you have them. It MAY be cold; great coats and woollies are recommended. If the weather is poor, we will be sleeping in the fixed camp for shelter. Yes, Jay, you may wear your vest! Fall Creek Sutler will be there if you need to buy caps or other supplies.
We have been assigned to the Second of three Battalions, 4th Company with the 48th and 115th New York. Lieutenant Lyons is commanding, First Sergeant Shaw, and Second Sergeant Jones are the senior NCO's. Two Corporal positions are yet to be assigned. It is spring of 1862 and we have marching orders to march into Tennessee and put down the rebellion.
I will be leaving on Thursday. A map is included with this newsletter but the easiest way to get there is via 26 North to Ashville NC, thence 40 West to Nashville, then 65 North to Bowling Green, thence Green River Parkway North to the Western Kentucky Parkway, thence west to Central City. The site is one mile north of exit 53 at the Kentucky National Guard Western Kentucky Training Site.