For those of us who attended last weekend's Blue-Gray Alliance rendition of the 150th Battle of Gettysburg, the weekend was really a mixed bag. Personally I was glad I went, but some parts of it recreated genuine Army misery. For example, it rained every evening of the event. Some reenactors will say a Civil War reenactment isn't complete without muddy roads, burning hot sun and torrential downpours. Well in that case, the "BGA" Gettysburg delivered. But rather than come up with a huge list of everything I didn't enjoy about the first weekend--which I'm sure many are about to do once they get home from the GAC one-- I wanted to post some photos I did manage to take, and why they made the weekend a memorable experience for me.
Our camps were in a wooded area at the highest point of the battleground, which I thought was one of the few things they did right this time around. It provided much relief from the heat during the day being in the shade, and some protection from the pouring rains we had each afternoon. The humidity was like a jungle, and nobody stayed dry. But one of the best things about it was waking up Saturday morning and seeing the sunlight coming in beams through the trees and the smoke. It was a nice cinematic effect which I captured below:
|This felt like a scene in a movie. Couldn't have asked for better lighting.|
The ground on this particular farm was very rocky. Due to the close quarters of the campsites among the trees, our company street was so small that nobody left room for me to set up my tent. So I slept under an extra one that belonged to the company. It appeared to be over soft high grass, but Friday night it felt horrible and I couldn't find that nice spot, I was poked all over by rocks hidden beneath the grass. Well as it turned out, they were very sharp and jagged rocks, many of them buried with the pointy side up! I spent a good portion of the night digging at these rocks with my bare hands, trying to dislodge them from the hard ground so I could sleep. The roads through camp we had to march on were large embedded stones, which felt horrible on our shoes.
|This is the rock quarry that lurked beneath my blanket. I counted and there were over a hundred of them!. A pard started using some of them to build a low wall around our company street.|
The forested area we were encamped on was on the high point of the farm property. There was a steep embankment at the far end which looked a lot like Little Round Top. Coming out of the trees, we had a sweeping panorama of the surrounding valley which was a good vantage point to watch the battles from.
|The long road to the sutlers in the morning mist.|
|Watching Buford's cavalry engage the rebs from our amazing vantage point. This may be my favorite photo of a reenactment so far. Compare with this picture taken in 1862 of soldiers overlooking Federal camps on the Pamunkey river.|
There was a night tactical as the sun went down on Friday. I really wish I could have captured it, but it was too dark. The fog hung in a low blue shroud several feet above the ground, mixed with the smoke of Federal cannons on the hills. There was artillery volleying back and forth, and I'll never forget the sound the cannons made as they echoed around the hilltops. It was more of a continuous rumble. Of course the muzzle flashes from our guns looked cool, too.
The next day the Mifflin Guard was to take part in the Wheatfield scenario. This battle was one of the worst tactically of the entire event. We were marched to the edge of the field, but received no order to go in, or somehow missed our cue. Maybe we were cut off by another regiment that wasn't in the right place and blocking our maneuvers. Anyway, we stood there, helpless and without orders, as the Irish Brigade charged into the fray without us. It was kind of stupid, really. There we were at the edge of the field, we had Confederate rifles shooting at us the whole time and no command was given to fire or charge as the scenario dictated. On top of that, there was a house or a barn blocking us from the spectators, so they couldn't see us anyway. We were simply the background noise.
There was a point in each battle where something didn't seem right. Whether it was a two and a half-mile march to just sit and watch a two-hour battle without taking part as the sun barbecued us with no ice, or marching and counter-marching, marching obliques and shuffling around or colliding with other Federal regiments while we're being fired at by laughing Confederates, things seemed to never go right until the very end. I won't be pointing any fingers at my own unit or any other battalion, but somebody messed up.
|Weapons inspection, preparing to go into the Wheatfield battle.|
|Here we are, just standing around while the officers discuss something we should have been doing.|
Watch the exact moment of the deer incident at 05:45-05:59 in this Youtube video.
|This was during that night tactical of the Culp's Hill scenario of which I took a video. The rifles and shouting in the dim light of the dense woods made the fight very claustrophobic and real.|
|Marching out on the guidon with the Mifflin Guard in tow. The gentleman on the left behind the boy is about a foot taller than me.|
|I don't know who this guy is, but I like his choice of hat decoration. It appears to be the severed claw of an eagle flipping "the bird" at the enemy. And no, he wasn't looking at the camera. This was zoomed in pretty far.|
Then of course, we saw Pickett's Charge on Sunday. We were at the extreme right (our right, spectator's left) of the Union defense along the wall. I was able to take this shot because I went out as a "waterboy" (whatever a male vivandiere is called). I gave tin cups full of ice to wounded men on the field in front of us, even as the guns were firing. With the artillery shaking the ground and men screaming, moaning and shouting over the rifle shots all around me, let me tell you it was the most intense couple minutes of my life.
|Has anyone besides us reenactors ever experienced some 8,000 screaming men with rifles charging directly at us from over a mile away? I certainly hope no one ever has to.|
And what did they give me to commemorate this unprecedented, once-in-a-lifetime historic anniversary event? A wooden nickel, about as cheap as you can get. A wooden nickel which then started to warp in the heat and humidity inside my trouser pocket, and before the end of the weekend it had snapped in half.
The GAC boys the next weekend have no right to complain. No matter how badly this other event goes, no matter how terrible the weather is, how long the lines are or how poorly scripted the battles end up being...at least they get a real bronze medal.