144th Anniversary Reenactment of

The Battle of New Market, VA

Musketry and Sneezing

 

17 May 2008

 

By Wes Clark

 

 

This one kind of sucked, frankly.

 

The Saturday battle wasn’t very fun; one thing that didn’t help was very tall grass that we had to wade through. (My eyes itch just looking at this photo.) It didn’t present much of an obstruction to marching feet, of course, but it was a deadly bio-toxin. Everyone’s eyes started tearing up from the pollen and we all started sneezing – my voice got hoarse and I had scratchy eyes and throat for the next day as a result. I’m think I’m going to drop the event sponsors a line about making sure the fields are mowed in time for the 145th anniversary event next year…

 

Some photos:

 

 

Getting dressed – Got my sack coat/Got my musket/All I need now/Are the Rebs... Getting dressed in the parking lot and not exposing oneself to women and children is a skill every reenactor learns.

 

Danville Artillery – The World War II/Civil War connection. Made possible by the Confederate forces (of course).

 

Chris – My pard Chris is proud of his new frock coat.

 

Chris with camera – Nowadays, photography is a major part of my interest in attending Civil War reenactments. We both brought small digital cameras which could be easily carried in pockets.

 

The Yellow-Shirts – Just as we arrived in the Yank camp Chris and I spotted this bunch, a Yank unit sporting their gang colors. They all bought yellow shirts from some sutler.

 

In the company – Here’s a shot of our company. The guy in the left foreground is Old Man Wallar; he’s a hoot. Can’t tell a story less than twenty minutes in length. Note the “star sergeant” in the middle; he’s actually a color sergeant. He’s supposed to be with the colors, I think. Maybe not. I’m not sure. His canteen indicates that the unit we fell in with was the Second Rhode Island – I have no idea where from. Then there’s the guy at left with the modern eyeglasses…

 

Another shot from within my company ranks – As you can see, reenacting is a hobby for both young and old!

 

Federal artillery – Papa Smurf is staring at us.

 

Woodpile Rebs – At one point we found ourselves ridiculously close to some Rebs posted near a woodpile. I had my hearing protection in and couldn’t hear much, but Chris was telling me that Mouth Reb, here, a buffoon, was making a total ass out of himself shouting taunts at some other Yank company. Had I heard it, I’d have given back better than he was giving. (Insulting Dale Earnhardt usually pushes their buttons.)  

 

Musket in the grass – Growing weary of the battle which seemed to be going nowhere and wasn’t much fun, and sneezing violently, I took a hit. While down I took this pensive study of my musket “Reb Killer” and some little yellow flowers. A war/peace kind of composition, I guess.

 

Canuck Yank – Here was an interesting guy. He’s from Southwestern Virginia but sounded like a Canadian. But he typifies what the average Civil War soldier would have looked like, I think: young, partially bearded, skinny. What we call in the trade a “good impression.”

 

Nearby Rebs – Towards the end of the battle, when the command “Start talking hits” was given, the Rebs were way too close for comfort. Exchanging black power blank fire this close makes me fidgety. No telling what those crackers have down their barrels; someday I might encounter a tompion or a ram rod with my name on it.

 

Reb advance – Here’s another company of ‘em, flags a-flappin’ in the breeze. Note: Confederate battle flags are square, not rectangular. I don’t know what that white one is. Signal Corps?

 

Yank dead – Well, nobody can say that we didn’t take hits… Note heel plates, to preserve heels.

 

Dead Chris – He can use this shot on his facebook page.

 

Overlook #1 – Yours truly, at the scenic New Market overlook. This mighty bluff formed the Confederates left flank during the battle.

 

Overlook #2 – Me again as the beau ideal soldier. I was much, much more comfortable at this event than at last year’s New Market – I weighed 55-60 pounds less!

 

Hay girls – Some young lasses looked picturesque moving crap around with pitchforks. My wife said it looked like they were posing for toile wallpaper; all they needed was a rooster, some children and a dog or two. (You know, toile. The olde-tymey wallpaper with the pastoral scenes? Oh, never mind.)

 

Kinky Rebs – Chris and I happened upon this odd tableau, some kinky Rebs a-funnin' with a unit young’un. Yes, I, too, thought of Deliverance.  I like the Wal-Mart truck passing by in the distance; it puts the whole Southern thing over the top photographically.

 

I give this event a 4 on the Event-O-Meter scale. Just going on Saturday, it wasn’t worth the gasoline expenditure. A campfire experience would have raised it, some. And, as I reported, the battle wasn’t a whole lot of fun.