Southeast Coalition of Authentic Reenactors

AAR for the 48th IN - Nov 15th, 1864 - Sunday (account of Butler's Bastards)

After marching all Saturday, and not encountering nary a soul to find forage, the men lay down
 to a night of sleep fit with twitches in their bellies. With best hopes of the day to come. Georgia
 brought us some nice weather to begin our trek on this fine Sabbath morning down the ridge road
to complete our mission. Passing a fine wagon and some civilians who had nothing to plunder, we
moved down the trail again towards a small, cracker, homestead. Being an officer of a foraging
dash and fell upon the cabin with great intent to sack it. It was like time had spun about and
seemed as dreamlike as a whirlwind of activity stirred about me, which was unlike the military order
 we were used to within the battalion. The men tore into the cabin with great élan as their
 inhabitants were torn from their home. The men folk were gathered, patted down and put under
guard. The ladies cried out to  their Secesh gods as their possessions were emptied upon the
thoroughfare. To my right I spy some chickens as well as another private, we fire our pistols at
them and one is soon destined for a cook pot. To my left the men find a ham and begin to tear
into it like a pack of dogs. I then seek any newly turned ground in their yard for hiiden treasures.
 My plunder includes two jars of jam and ham. I drank coffee from the Southrons cups and ate beans
from the traitors pots this fine day. In the distance I catch a glimpse of a large Secesh fella sitting
under a tree and arguing with some of Uncle Billys Boys, but can not hear what they say. I spot
one of the civilian men not sitting with the other men and I burst upon him with the full anger that
 has built upon me fueled also by my hunger of the previous day. I see this poor Secesh man  as the
cause of all my woes in this war. I draw my pistol and ordered him to sit back down as he was ordered
or I will shoot him down. Then as I pass the other civilian men grouped near a tree I tell the Guard to
 keep them there, an old man calls to me, “Hey There!...Were you in Mexico?”. I am startled and the
 chaos about is unnoticed and I say to the man, “Yes, I was in Mexico, but I was a much younger lad
then.” This poor Secesh man turned out to be Sgt Bruce who I served under in the War with Mexico
 many years ago. I told the guard to treat him well as he was once a US Hero, but was now led astray.
 He told me he was now a  surgeon and supported neither side. Soon, we were on our way and wished
to depart before the smoke and sounds would bring a patrol our way.