"I had a great time; How about you?" The temperatures remained in the 20's during the day and dipped into the teens at night. There was a snow fall on "Sunday," which really excited some of the boys. It'll take a few days for the whole thing to sink in. I think I have photos of all of our frequent posters. If you  think I missed you and know I have your photo, send me a PM describing the situation where it was taken and I'll do my best to get it posted here. How in God's name do you write a AAR for an event that was 4 days long?

Keeping out of the weather:



Me and the battalion commander:



Gotta' poo?



Rob Murray:



Charles and Terre:



Yes, I had laundry done daily:



Mr Rodman:



Rob Murray:



Noah Briggs and Hank Trent:

 

Have a paperwork question?
How many clerks do you know who would volunteer for Grand Guard? He knew there was a mile and a half to the outpost and we'd be out in the snow and freeze. But, he went on his own accord, anyway. I'm better for it. I hope he is too.  

--Last edited by grumpydave on 2008-02-26 13:03:32 --

Grumpy,

Those of us who were there for seven days or more enjoyed watching the camps come to life on Wednesday afternoon and evening. I'm sure Scott, Craig, Lanky, Sparky, Boyo, Coldfoot, Ty and the other WNY locals are going through a good bit of "Post Eventum Depression" this week.

On to Glendale!

Dave

Great images.  Looks like it was a good event.

Guys,

I finally got home about 8:00 PM last night. Grumpy, I look like I'd been living in that hut two months instead of two days!

The inmates of the cooler hut will be talking about the event, our accomdations and Rodman's Saturday night sauna for quite some time.  

Outstanding event.    

--Last edited by Bill on 2008-02-26 11:07:22 --

I hope to have a fuller AAR out in the next week or so, though with four days to cover I doubt very much that it will be the usual minute by minute account.  

I'm still in a daze, but several observations suggest themselves.

First, you know you've been in the field a little longer than usual when your dog, neglecting her customary greeting, instead spends the first few minutes rolling around in the socks you've just removed.

Beyond that, the total effect of having nearly seventy living historians involved in making the event -- through efforts ranging from the years of site prep to months of administrative preparation, to days of living as closely as possible to the pages of history -- is nothing short of magical.

Also, I was a bit surprised at how well first person worked out.  People seemed to improvise a sort of informal commitment where Blinky French went in and out of sobriety but never fell entirely off the wagon.  Most conversations had a first person core, with 21st century talk blended in as necessary to communicate, or as a mutually acceptable commentary on the action.  Though we felt pretty free to drop firper in quarters, the talk never wandered far from what we were doing.  People may have shared experiences from past events, or thoughts on what was going on around them, but I heard nothing along the lines of what usually comes up, such as World War II or consumer electronics.  

I was about to say how amazing that was given the length of the event, but in truth the longer we spent on site the easier it was not to think of the 21st century.  

More to come.

Quote :

Michael Schaffner wrote : I was a bit surprised at how well first person worked out.  People seemed to improvise a sort of informal commitment where Blinky French went in and out of sobriety but never fell entirely off the wagon.

Mike,

I agree. We didn't make a big thing about staying in first person in the hut; but with the exception of the discussions concerning the "Shocker", a real Civil War soldier would have fit right in. There really wasn't much else he wouldn't understand.    

The artificial "Sunday" had some interesting effects.

First off, not all had fully internalized what SUNDAY meant in 1864.  Men were dropping off laundry that morning, and calling for it that afternoon, like we were some sort of One Hour Martinizing.  Explaining quietly "Young man, its Sunday, there's no laundry done on the Lord's Day" was sometimes met with a blank look.  

Logistically, it was also problematic--as it was on Friday in real time, it was the first day anyone really had laundry that needed doing.  Not happening.  

Thus, Saturday real time was laundry day. That means it was also haul the water, fill the pot, chop the wood, stir the pot, wash the clothes, wring out the clothes, rinse the clothes......

It was also hijack me to make Peach Pies day.

It was also send the Army out to forage at a local house and terrorize a local family (yep, I'm Mama) day.  

And then back around that marching army for more fried pie duty....

All the while, poor Miz Coldfoot is over there doing the laundry all by herself (I failed to mention that the third laundress got felled by the flu on Day One).  

By the time I get back from all my ramble, Miz Coldfoot has the frozen laundry on the line, and is off on yet another town run for the cooks.  

Come dark, I gather up said laundry, pronounce the wool stuff dry (it was) and take the cotton stuff up the the museum, festoon it all over the place, and crank the heat up to 70.  

So really, the first time anyone saw any clean laundry was Sunday morning, real time, when they are assembled to go home.

Our own division of labor had some odd effects too--I came on so late as a replacement, and on such limited duty (I was just out of the hospital with respiratory difficulties) that I was useless for outside work.  I had also seen only a small portion of the background material.  And while I'd done many a period laundry, portraying a Federal contract laundress was not something I'd done.

And the one who did have the knowledge of prices and such like was gone to her daddy's, as ill as I had been a few weeks before.  

Thus, when men asked how much their laundry bill was, or offered payment, I could do nothing but wave them off with "standard rate, comes out of your pay"

And of course, Dave knew better, and knew that officer's laundry did not come out of their pay, but was paid directly, and tried desparately to prompt me through that conversation.    I knew that too---Trouble was, I was utterly clueless as to the amount to charge him, and figured one lie was as bad as the next, and waved him off with the "standard rate, comes out of your pay"

But mostly, I simply mended--in peace and quiet.  Needle goes in, needle goes out.  Little window on the world of the parade ground, all snug against the cold and wind.  

My, what do people do for fun that don't do this......

Mrs Lawson and Mrs Shea "freezing" the laundry:


Tere:
You should have just named a price. I had everything in my purse from Sutler tokens, 50 cent notes to 10 dollar bills. We had just been paid! (the officers that is)

Wow, that's two...

Did anyone mention we had a "newsboy" selling some darned good copies of a properly dated paper runnin' round.  

--Last edited by grumpydave on 2008-02-28 07:08:43 --

Nope--but then we missed a number of the fine points, being as the laundresses did not belong on the company street except under very rare circumstances.

Nobody came and escorted us down for divine services either--back to the idea that not all internalized that it was Sunday.

Mrs. Shea was the victim of one of the older papers that did come wandering our way--with a clifhanger of a serialized story in it, and then no more......

Mrs. Lawson,

I'm glad we had a chance to meet, if only briefly; when I delivered that bucket of water to the sutler tent. It sounds like you could have used a couple more civilian ladies at the event.

I wonder if Washer Women actually felt it was necessary to be escorted on the Compant Street. From what I understand, they were often married to NCO's. I doubt they would have much fear of being insulted by the men in their husband's own Company. Just thinking out loud.

Very nice to meet you as well sir.

Had we been fully staffed, the numbers would have been adequate to the tasks, but both illness and the 'artificial Sunday' threw us off.  That, and my coming on board so late as a substitute, for a portrayal where I knew the physical job, but not the fine points.

As for the 'no laundresses on the company street'--this is more a matter of good order rather concern over insult, though that factor existed too.  In a place where men are 'at home' in large numbers, and sometimes casual in dress and language, the feature of an escort also served as an announcement, visual rather than verbal, that there were women about, and served to clear a path to avoid embarassment for all parties.  

It was also vital that laundresses preserve their reputations--proper chaperonage and proper distance from the men was vital to that.  For the same reason, I would not go inside the hospital tent to cut the sick man's hair, but instead did that in a more visible venue.  I had already seen the surgeon's tendency to wander off rather than stay with his patient.   Still, he managed to dissappear on me before I could finish the task and be properly escorted off the street.

Hank's haircut posed a bit different problem.  We had two pair of scissors on the place.  One was a good period pair, but not good for cutting hair, as the blades were too short and the tip end too sharp.   The other pair had long blades, a nice rounded tip, and obviously modern handles--and were excellent for cutting hair.   The second pair were actually in the museum building, and we looked them over well in trying to figure out how we were going to give a decent haircut.

I opted for the period scissors, and the less that stellar haircut.  About all I can say was, it was shorter, it was relatively even, and I only poked Hank with those sharp little embrodiery points a couple of times.  

I imagine Linda had to improve on that haircut a good bit once he got home.  

--Last edited by Spinster on 2008-02-28 18:51:14 --

After all the talk of barbers on the list, I let my hair get long beforehand in the hopes that somebody would be available to cut it. That haircut was the best souvenir of the event. I'm still wearing it proudly.

Hank Trent
hanktrent@voyager.net

Quote :

Spinster wrote : I imagine Linda had to improve on that haircut a good bit once he got home.

Nope.  I don't ever take scissors to anyone's hair.  I wanted bangs back in college, and started cutting them the way my roommate recommended -- they turned out terribly uneven.  I had to keep trying to even them out and well...  I suppose you know where that went.   Sooo, in short, even when people beg, I don't cut hair.

Speaking of which, I need to find an excellent hairdresser for the Horse Bazaar, my character is wealthy, the daughter of a general, wife of a colonel, and lives in New York City.  She's most likely the kind to keep up with the Jones' when it comes to horses and fashion.

Anyone know who's good at 1869 fashion hairstyles? :hap:

Linda.

Nice thing about bad hair cuts. Time heals all wounds!  

I hope Mike Schaffner takes the time to post his AAR here. It's laugh out loud funny.