Dispatches from the field
By Ethan Smith
Published in News on March 22, 2015 1:50 AM
Full Size
Ethan Smith
Coffee prepared over an open fire tastes better -- and it works better, too.
After little sleep and a night chock full of stories from re-enactment veterans, you don't mind that there's ash from the fire in your coffee cup -- you're just glad there's something to chew on as the coffee washes down.
As we sip our coffee and prepare for battle, the sounds of low conversations are punctuated by musket crackle in the Federal camp.
Artillery cannons boom in the distance.
We know what is coming.
We know why we're here.
I've embedded myself with the North Carolina 18th Infantry Regiment and have been welcomed with open arms.
Men that will participate in the battle re-enactment share stories of past re-enactments, as well as historical facts about the Civil War.
How Confederates used boiled horse hair to suture their wounds -- how it actually worked better than the silk Federal troops used and how boiling it resulted in a lower infection rate in Confederate soldiers.
How they come to re-enactments not just for the battle -- that's a footnote overall, they say.
"We love going out and doing the battle re-enactments, but you see these people coming into our camps now? We get to give them a living history lesson when they walk around our camps and see us dressed like this and talk to us. That's what it's about," said Sgt. Bob Etzler with Company P of the 13th North Carolina. "It's about how we get to sit in camp at night and trade old war stories and catch up with people we haven't seen in years. I went to get in my car at the last re-enactment I did and it took me 30 minutes to get out of the lot because people I hadn't seen in forever were stopping me and going 'Hey Bob! How have you been?'"
The friendships formed through re-enacting become like family, they say.
"Where else can you go and see 100 people you know and have 50 of those be your best friends?" said re-enactor Bob Dennison.
Etzler first became involved in re-enactments seven years ago when he first saw one.
"I went to my first one and was hooked," he said. "I signed up on the spot."
Etzler said re-enacting teaches you just how little you learn about the Civil War in school. It also piqued his interest about his ancestors.
"I found out I had five relatives from North Carolina, three from Maryland, three from Pennsylvania, one in Louisiana, one in Georgia, two in Florida and two in West Virginia that all fought in the Civil War," Etzler said. "After I found that out, I began studying the battles and reading as many diaries as I could. Private diaries are the most accurate accounts you can read. If you don't understand what happened in the battle you can't understand the re-enactment. The guys doing it are trying to do it exactly as it happened. You don't get that in a book."
Etzler said actually participating in the re-enactments also provides a tangible history lesson to anyone that participates.
"You get a real feel for what was going on when you fire a musket, pop your cap and see someone take a hit and go down," Etzler said. "You get a focus and understand better what these guys went through."
He was more right than I could have ever known.
*
Shouts from corporals and lieutenants rattle through the camp.
"Full march! Get your bedrolls and knapsacks! Form up!"
Afternoon has set in and the battle looms.
Until now, everyone has been all smiles as they conversed among themselves.
They lounged on the ground and played cards by the fire.
Old veterans shared stories and cracked jokes not suitable for print.
But as they stand from their seats, shouldering their knapsacks, the smiles dissipate.
The change in the air is tangible.
It's serious now.
"This isn't light march! Everyone needs to have full gear," shouts Lt. David Henkel with the 18th North Carolina.
As final call rolls in, we form up in our units and march to the drill field.
Ranks are formed two to three deep and span the entirety of the field. Thousands of re-enactors take on the personas of Civil War soldiers.
I'm stationed in the back row with the ambulance corps -- a decision I'll be glad of when the battle comes and troops charge the Federal entrenchment.
Soldiers in the ranks are now inspected and drilled, stacking weapons and test firing their rifles.
If you've never heard thousands of black-powder rifles fire just feet from your ear, I'll describe it for you.
It's loud.
The recoil of the fire causes a physical thump in your chest due to the force of the gunpowder behind each round.
But the smell -- that's the part nobody thinks of.
It penetrates your nostrils and lingers for hours.
It is acrid and musky.
As the smoke fades, the smell becomes tangy as it lingers in your nose.
Then, it happens.
"About, face!" shouts Kurt Cole, one of the leaders of the Confederate troops.
"Kneel!" he says as everyone drops to one knee.
This pre-battle speech is nothing like the speech Al Pacino gives in "Any Given Sunday." It is nothing like any of the speeches Rocky Balboa gives or receives before his fights.
It is better. Much, much better.
"Gentlemen!" begins Cole. "Federal troops have invaded our home. It is our duty to give them hell. Remember what we are fighting for. Remember these men fought for beliefs they held most dear to their heart. And remember that today, we are those men! Covers off!"
Every re-enactor removes his hat as a prayer is said before battle.
After the prayer, Cole rallies the troops by running through the ranks carrying the Confederate flag.
"Touch the flag boys! Touch it!" he shouts. "This is what we fight for! This is what we believe in! March!"
And with that, we were off to battle.
*
Spectators lined the path to battle through the woods.
Some snapped photos. Others saluted.
All were reverently silent as boots clomped on the ground past them.
We form ranks at the end of the path before the woods open onto the battleground.
Some men drink water while others eat apples -- a last bit of nourishment before toiling in sand and sweat for an hour.
As our battalion marches onto the field, one is ahead of us, already locked in battle and volleying firestorms of musket rounds towards the Federal trenches.
We pause and take a knee as we watch fellow Confederates fire, march and repeat towards Federal troops.
When the first line of Federal troops is chased out of their trenches, it is our battalion's turn.
"Stand!" Cole yells. "Make them feel you! March!"
As the order is given, yells of rebellion pierce the enemy's ears as Confederate troops surge forward to their first position.
We stop approximately 200 yards in front of the enemy.
Volleys of fire are traded -- but no one is down, not yet.
The order comes in to march 40 more yards into the barrels of the Federal troops.
Then 40 more.
Before I know it, I look up and realize I can see the shaggy faces of the Federal troops.
As I lock eyes with one soldier, he fires in unison with his battalion.
Nearly everyone in the first line of the Confederate army drops to the ground.
They've been hit.
I understand what Etzler meant when he said you learn things in re-enactments that history books will never give you.
Granted, it is only a re-enactment.
"You're not actually getting hit and you're not seeing your best friend's brains get blown out," said Private Lynn Bull with the 18th.
Regardless, adrenaline surges up your spine and into the back of your head and you begin to understand just how terrifying Civil War battles must have been.
We march even closer to the Federal troops now.
I think I can smell what they ate for breakfast.
More men drop in front of me as I hastily scribble details down on loose paper with a wooden pencil.
I've taken cover behind the army's colors.
Bad decision.
Then both flag holders drop as another volley cracks across the battlefield.
Flags sail towards the ground and are hastily caught and re-erected.
I make haste behind another line of men as muskets crack and cannons thump across the battlefield.
Soldiers stumble around the field, pulling their hair in shock as their comrades limp off the field with injuries.
One Confederate drops his weapon and begins to rush the Federal ranks, waving his hat in surrender.
Crack.
His hat flies off and he drops to the ground.
I take a knee beside Bull, who is now on the ground, injured.
I watch the chaos unfold around me as smoke blinds my eyes.
It is utterly hectic and nearly incomprehensible to anyone who doesn't understand what they are watching.
Then, horns blow.
Cease fires are called and weapons are lowered.
Two men run past me, holding onto each other in the chaos of events that have unfolded.
What they shout sums up the day best.
"The war is over," they say. "The war is over."