Southeast Coalition of Authentic Reenactors

AAR for the 48th IN - Nov 15th, 1864 - Sunday

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 party is much like herding wildcats. The ravenous bummers of the 48th and 59th IN broke ranks into full 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 order 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.