Post by Brad on May 6, 2003 20:11:22 GMT -5
Here is my review of Port Gibson...
Of primary importance, the march raised over $6000 dollars, and the Hard Heads contributed $590 of that, from personal donations of marchers of at least $50 each, plus monies raised from sales of rounds (thanks Matt Laing), and 'fees' for our mess event.
For those that weren't there, you missed a lot. Some good, some bad. It was fun having 6 of us in one car. The event itself was something special. My review isn't period or anything, but I tried to jot down my thoughts. Enjoy
Apparently there was record highs on Friday, I don’t know what the temp was, but it was damn hot. Try to catch up on the AAR’s online, the first one I read was pretty good, the reb one was okay, but they were there for a different reason than I was. The event was based closely on records of the 21st Iowa, including times of day things happened. We didn’t start marching off until almost 10 am, but that is what the real unit did, so we followed that…would have been beautiful marching in the 60-70 degree early morning, but we waited until the heat started. We camped in a huge field close to the Mississippi river. The site we camped was the actual site of the unit, but the river has moved several miles from its 1863 course, so we were surrounded by farm fields, not the river. Our first obstacle was to carry our rations. The unit was issued rations in bulk and had to carry them for the first few miles of their march. It sucked badly. Probably the toughest hill was made tougher by carrying a ton of food. Our company was small, so we had even more to carry, since each company got the same amount, a box of crackers, and 2 slabs of bacon (20 pounds a piece or so, I’d guess). The NCO’s were responsible for figuring out how we were to do this, so we had to carry the bacon on our bayonets, cut into smaller pieces. Some guys carried the cracker boxes with different methods, but thankfully, after a while, the mounted artillery made room, and carried the crackers the bulk of the way. Our first leg was all on dirt roads and shady, but much of it was uphill. People were already hurting because of the extra few pounds on their bayonet or having to carry the cracker box. Up the worst grade we lost a few people including Tom, who had to carry the cracker box for a spell. We halted at the top for a bit, and everyone caught up. The guy next to me blew chunks (another cracker box carrier), so obviously, people were hurting due to the heat, and the extra loads. At this point we cut up the slabs more, and put them in haversacks. We continued and made it to the ruins of an amazing mansion. Unfortunately, the house was destroyed by a fire in the 1890s, but there were 20 or so huge pillars remaining, so we got the idea. We rested there, and finally distributed our rations, and ate. We had orders to cook up everything, so we did that, but not all of the bacon we were issued made it that far, after our break, I saw several slabs fly into the woods, I know our company threw away some. Once cooled off a bit, and resting, we were issued 20 crackers each, and we cooked up our bacon. Coffee was issued too, but I didn’t take any. We also ate now, our first meal since the night before, by now it was late morning. Probably another reason for people’s problems.
After eating a breakfast/dinner of fatty pork and crackers and watering down, we began to form up to continue the march to Port Gibson. Right as we were formed up, the heat took another 2 casualties from our company. We started out, leading the battalion on a macadamized road. The sun was directly above us, and also was radiating its heat through the soles of our bootees. Men began to straggle a bit more as the march continued, the only relief was an occasional breeze that blew through cooling. Another memorable moment was watching the colonel reign his horse directly at a dog that was barking at the mounted officers. He didn’t shut the dog up, but gave the men something to smile about on that hellish march. We lost several more members of our company as the march continued, finally reaching the Bethel church, another designated stopping point.
As we rested in the shade of the church, our stragglers caught up to us. We spent several hours resting, while the officers decided on a plan. Finally it was decided to take wagons part of the way to speed our progress. The heat was taking too many casualties, and we needed to get a bit further, without losing more men. It was decided to take wagons ahead for a few miles. We reached our next stopping point, and formed up for another segment of the march. This was the most scenic part of the trip. We were marching on dirt roads that appeared to be cut out the side of a ridge, with earth on both sides of the road ranging from 4-40 feet high. It was amazing. We never knew if Johnny Reb might show up peering over the sides of one of these edges. This stretch was much more manageable, it was shady most of the way, and the surface was dirt, and downhill the entire way. Our company strength was down a bit from where we started, but all the HHM was in the ranks. We stopped for water again at a small bridge over a creek.
It was beginning to get dark here, and by the time we continued the route after the break, it was almost pitch dark. We loaded out pieces, apparently some rebs were spotted. We were following the color guard, so the little light remaining showed the outline of the flag which I did my best to follow closely. The problem with a downhill march is you likely will have to have an uphill part to do as well. This came after it was pitch dark. The artillery battery in front of the color company began to struggle getting the horses up the steep and rutted hill. At least that is how it sounded, since I couldn’t see anything. Some men were detailed to help push the caissons over some obstacles, and the march continued. We were ordered to maintain silence in the ranks which D company did perfectly. Unfortunately the company behind us couldn’t figure that concept out, echoing commands, jawing to each other constantly, even after the major cursed at them. Fools. Suddenly, things began to get hot. Some firing began to pop up, sounding like skirmishers. At this point, the only think keeping me on track was the knapsack of my file mate, which I kept my left hand firmly on. The firing became more intense, when suddenly, I heard a cannon shot ring out from a small hill ahead and to our left. Our battery had opened up with canister against the rebel force. We couldn’t see anything other than occasional muzzle flashes and the huge blast of the cannon. Some artillery boys lit small fires along the road to guide the way, and we continued up hill and towards the confederates. Due to the dark, I was unable to spot any rebs, and fortunately they couldn’t spot me. There were no casualties in our company at the hands of the rebels. We finally were ordered back a bit, and found a house that was commandeered and the surrounding yard used for our campsite. It didn’t take long for sleep to come, many of us sleeping only in our drawers due to the heat, I had only drawers on hoping to let my other articles dry a bit. I finally got cold, and covered myself with a gum blanket, and slept well. I then was awaken by some lightening. The entire battalion tried to fit into the nearby house to avoid the rain, and I think we all made it. It resembled somewhat of a sardine can.
When the battalion rose in the morning, there was definitely some stiffness to be worked out. We found out that the road to Pt. Gibson was pretty torn up from the rain, so our march was over. We’d ride wagons to town. There were more priceless moments in the morning, my favorite was probably Col. Cleveland speaking with us briefly after he took a lemon drop out of Lucas’ hand. We found out that the 100 or so men there raised over $6000 to preserve land in and around PG, and and had the opportunity to listen to and ancestor of the original owner of that house speak. It was neat.
After the event we toured Vicksburg, leaving hard crackers at each Wisconsin monument there. We even found the 33 Wis monument after much of searching and U turns. The man who owns the yard the monument is on was friendly, and pointed out another marker further up the hill denoting an Ohio battery.
Brad
Of primary importance, the march raised over $6000 dollars, and the Hard Heads contributed $590 of that, from personal donations of marchers of at least $50 each, plus monies raised from sales of rounds (thanks Matt Laing), and 'fees' for our mess event.
For those that weren't there, you missed a lot. Some good, some bad. It was fun having 6 of us in one car. The event itself was something special. My review isn't period or anything, but I tried to jot down my thoughts. Enjoy
Apparently there was record highs on Friday, I don’t know what the temp was, but it was damn hot. Try to catch up on the AAR’s online, the first one I read was pretty good, the reb one was okay, but they were there for a different reason than I was. The event was based closely on records of the 21st Iowa, including times of day things happened. We didn’t start marching off until almost 10 am, but that is what the real unit did, so we followed that…would have been beautiful marching in the 60-70 degree early morning, but we waited until the heat started. We camped in a huge field close to the Mississippi river. The site we camped was the actual site of the unit, but the river has moved several miles from its 1863 course, so we were surrounded by farm fields, not the river. Our first obstacle was to carry our rations. The unit was issued rations in bulk and had to carry them for the first few miles of their march. It sucked badly. Probably the toughest hill was made tougher by carrying a ton of food. Our company was small, so we had even more to carry, since each company got the same amount, a box of crackers, and 2 slabs of bacon (20 pounds a piece or so, I’d guess). The NCO’s were responsible for figuring out how we were to do this, so we had to carry the bacon on our bayonets, cut into smaller pieces. Some guys carried the cracker boxes with different methods, but thankfully, after a while, the mounted artillery made room, and carried the crackers the bulk of the way. Our first leg was all on dirt roads and shady, but much of it was uphill. People were already hurting because of the extra few pounds on their bayonet or having to carry the cracker box. Up the worst grade we lost a few people including Tom, who had to carry the cracker box for a spell. We halted at the top for a bit, and everyone caught up. The guy next to me blew chunks (another cracker box carrier), so obviously, people were hurting due to the heat, and the extra loads. At this point we cut up the slabs more, and put them in haversacks. We continued and made it to the ruins of an amazing mansion. Unfortunately, the house was destroyed by a fire in the 1890s, but there were 20 or so huge pillars remaining, so we got the idea. We rested there, and finally distributed our rations, and ate. We had orders to cook up everything, so we did that, but not all of the bacon we were issued made it that far, after our break, I saw several slabs fly into the woods, I know our company threw away some. Once cooled off a bit, and resting, we were issued 20 crackers each, and we cooked up our bacon. Coffee was issued too, but I didn’t take any. We also ate now, our first meal since the night before, by now it was late morning. Probably another reason for people’s problems.
After eating a breakfast/dinner of fatty pork and crackers and watering down, we began to form up to continue the march to Port Gibson. Right as we were formed up, the heat took another 2 casualties from our company. We started out, leading the battalion on a macadamized road. The sun was directly above us, and also was radiating its heat through the soles of our bootees. Men began to straggle a bit more as the march continued, the only relief was an occasional breeze that blew through cooling. Another memorable moment was watching the colonel reign his horse directly at a dog that was barking at the mounted officers. He didn’t shut the dog up, but gave the men something to smile about on that hellish march. We lost several more members of our company as the march continued, finally reaching the Bethel church, another designated stopping point.
As we rested in the shade of the church, our stragglers caught up to us. We spent several hours resting, while the officers decided on a plan. Finally it was decided to take wagons part of the way to speed our progress. The heat was taking too many casualties, and we needed to get a bit further, without losing more men. It was decided to take wagons ahead for a few miles. We reached our next stopping point, and formed up for another segment of the march. This was the most scenic part of the trip. We were marching on dirt roads that appeared to be cut out the side of a ridge, with earth on both sides of the road ranging from 4-40 feet high. It was amazing. We never knew if Johnny Reb might show up peering over the sides of one of these edges. This stretch was much more manageable, it was shady most of the way, and the surface was dirt, and downhill the entire way. Our company strength was down a bit from where we started, but all the HHM was in the ranks. We stopped for water again at a small bridge over a creek.
It was beginning to get dark here, and by the time we continued the route after the break, it was almost pitch dark. We loaded out pieces, apparently some rebs were spotted. We were following the color guard, so the little light remaining showed the outline of the flag which I did my best to follow closely. The problem with a downhill march is you likely will have to have an uphill part to do as well. This came after it was pitch dark. The artillery battery in front of the color company began to struggle getting the horses up the steep and rutted hill. At least that is how it sounded, since I couldn’t see anything. Some men were detailed to help push the caissons over some obstacles, and the march continued. We were ordered to maintain silence in the ranks which D company did perfectly. Unfortunately the company behind us couldn’t figure that concept out, echoing commands, jawing to each other constantly, even after the major cursed at them. Fools. Suddenly, things began to get hot. Some firing began to pop up, sounding like skirmishers. At this point, the only think keeping me on track was the knapsack of my file mate, which I kept my left hand firmly on. The firing became more intense, when suddenly, I heard a cannon shot ring out from a small hill ahead and to our left. Our battery had opened up with canister against the rebel force. We couldn’t see anything other than occasional muzzle flashes and the huge blast of the cannon. Some artillery boys lit small fires along the road to guide the way, and we continued up hill and towards the confederates. Due to the dark, I was unable to spot any rebs, and fortunately they couldn’t spot me. There were no casualties in our company at the hands of the rebels. We finally were ordered back a bit, and found a house that was commandeered and the surrounding yard used for our campsite. It didn’t take long for sleep to come, many of us sleeping only in our drawers due to the heat, I had only drawers on hoping to let my other articles dry a bit. I finally got cold, and covered myself with a gum blanket, and slept well. I then was awaken by some lightening. The entire battalion tried to fit into the nearby house to avoid the rain, and I think we all made it. It resembled somewhat of a sardine can.
When the battalion rose in the morning, there was definitely some stiffness to be worked out. We found out that the road to Pt. Gibson was pretty torn up from the rain, so our march was over. We’d ride wagons to town. There were more priceless moments in the morning, my favorite was probably Col. Cleveland speaking with us briefly after he took a lemon drop out of Lucas’ hand. We found out that the 100 or so men there raised over $6000 to preserve land in and around PG, and and had the opportunity to listen to and ancestor of the original owner of that house speak. It was neat.
After the event we toured Vicksburg, leaving hard crackers at each Wisconsin monument there. We even found the 33 Wis monument after much of searching and U turns. The man who owns the yard the monument is on was friendly, and pointed out another marker further up the hill denoting an Ohio battery.
Brad
