tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6926233301966836722024-02-07T16:25:58.063-08:00Left foot forward (a journey into reenactment)Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-51404740415715920972023-12-31T09:29:00.000-08:002023-12-31T10:06:37.178-08:00Return to Liepzig. <p> Leipzig! My first foreign reenactment back in 2013, then 2018, now 2023. Will I go in 2028? I really don't know. </p><p>I had a pleasant day and a half to stay in a hotel and mooch around the city before getting the tram out to the bivouac at Torhaus Dolitz. Then here are some highlights, the hots and nots! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvuQW3eVgNtG_12JyTWRGT_B6ywKU1RAdQavldYozlCLkRythBhmPBDZZhGImSDRoVZtWXVC3G45aponqN8C5rRT-1-TrRJ2yJ4ggo3IwBxmxE28ki1TsrK5z0kNSCowVceM0Zo2h1SNhO0lm7Q6ebPhqiPk2PM3SwhjVY6xAn5dPDpV4cBcbykQ6bcKs/s4624/20231012_165233.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvuQW3eVgNtG_12JyTWRGT_B6ywKU1RAdQavldYozlCLkRythBhmPBDZZhGImSDRoVZtWXVC3G45aponqN8C5rRT-1-TrRJ2yJ4ggo3IwBxmxE28ki1TsrK5z0kNSCowVceM0Zo2h1SNhO0lm7Q6ebPhqiPk2PM3SwhjVY6xAn5dPDpV4cBcbykQ6bcKs/s320/20231012_165233.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Nots. Pouring down on the Saturday morning accompanied by a cold wind, fortunately it soon blew itself out and stopped raining too! By 11 am the sun was coming out. </p><p>Liepzig security not knowing what to make of my Doctors tourniquet and getting a policeman to look who clearly pondered if it could be used as a cosh. Everything was fine and I went to get my delayed plane, just making the connection. </p><p>No one but soldiers on the field. There are apparently two comittees that run the battle of Leipzig who take turns, this one decided that only fighting soldiers were to go on the field beyond the rear lines. Part of this was to limit the number of civilians taking pictures, which is kind of understandible but I found myself with other Prussian medical staff who would have been on the field.. confined to a hospital area that was for 'proper' first aid with two ambulances (German equivelent of St Johns) and a jolly Doctor in surgeons kit running the operation. We had three patients, treatment included a free beer! </p><p>If I'd have known I would have stuck to the Westphälische Landwehr (a fine bunch, green facings) I'd marched up with and gone into the battle. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmR5MhM7mOOKFjLUobCwRmIdGHyYpbQ5DXikK7oaOzMnJ6_cmczHWOvz7t468csDEggChU7Yc4OTGEhmV7PMd7519K46nxFac6Bhfaz0Fmh0TyWtSY4pwpkoTPyYvte0AE3ocO6pUGSdVdCMJ6FHBwPW90GP0jgPVUKy5HxKFmNuRuerFziiQ89jmV0oE/s3992/20231014_104846.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3251" data-original-width="3992" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmR5MhM7mOOKFjLUobCwRmIdGHyYpbQ5DXikK7oaOzMnJ6_cmczHWOvz7t468csDEggChU7Yc4OTGEhmV7PMd7519K46nxFac6Bhfaz0Fmh0TyWtSY4pwpkoTPyYvte0AE3ocO6pUGSdVdCMJ6FHBwPW90GP0jgPVUKy5HxKFmNuRuerFziiQ89jmV0oE/s320/20231014_104846.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Hots! It is all good after that. The march to the field as the sun was coming out was enjoyable, although it turned out to be only to the other campsite where upon we were bussed to Liebertvölkvitz. (Sic).</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6gcrmhmTs5EZOehtcLWSEU77-KSlQ9pOMRycSgLa3t37J8iHiWFZCUaPx1BMZTQH6Be_tXWznwSrZbX38GNoFmb4GIuPHhtmZkEL8ZwneJky_FaXtjBu-PKDZwpd9b-YC0qZVsUD0Pmr3H7rv_DWdziwiE302ERK8D_xp2bXIT9H_QzD-moDw2O3lkM/s4624/20231014_151508.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6gcrmhmTs5EZOehtcLWSEU77-KSlQ9pOMRycSgLa3t37J8iHiWFZCUaPx1BMZTQH6Be_tXWznwSrZbX38GNoFmb4GIuPHhtmZkEL8ZwneJky_FaXtjBu-PKDZwpd9b-YC0qZVsUD0Pmr3H7rv_DWdziwiE302ERK8D_xp2bXIT9H_QzD-moDw2O3lkM/s320/20231014_151508.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>The night after the battle the (UK) Prussian artillery stayed at the battlefield to do a cannon firing show. <div>Not feeling inclined to build a fire just for one vegischnitzel I ventured over to the saxon artillery and asked to use their fire. </div><div>Not only did they naturally say yes but supplied me with more food and drink.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp4iI9OXPuo9-T5AV1homvjh2uXoprIKW3-QxEsHasrXTOOXcGpclzUW49xLwufHAiAame-vRNULBG0y9t2dqJx76zAGOf3BAM_1zFiXfFv592HUyQIPSeMfxQ-KUb2b73yWOhhfi16TVZmchwOAL8RqUqIKUm46_rGALE-H_H0-Nq61pWYSO0UTLDqHI/s4624/20231014_140149.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp4iI9OXPuo9-T5AV1homvjh2uXoprIKW3-QxEsHasrXTOOXcGpclzUW49xLwufHAiAame-vRNULBG0y9t2dqJx76zAGOf3BAM_1zFiXfFv592HUyQIPSeMfxQ-KUb2b73yWOhhfi16TVZmchwOAL8RqUqIKUm46_rGALE-H_H0-Nq61pWYSO0UTLDqHI/s320/20231014_140149.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I stayed with them for the evening, joining in a colourful schnapps based drinking game for quite a large bit of it and sitting at the fire.</div><div>I would really like to meet up with them again.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbdPeD-zOiK7xaa1J_c0uSmxdDm7U4H8fkROEZiah76_ML2RuDlR0nsDJr6f55vitp-rJahFJAaD9zM1ZOj1TvrbN1VkKvUujtbreRqtD7hyphenhyphenGEdSo-rcrDrCgA3qyCdzXTyRuoY95uobHXkYHgErLBy3am2ushHuGHNh6ffYTUT5Lf7zTmS5zQH3IBQfw/s4624/20231013_201828.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbdPeD-zOiK7xaa1J_c0uSmxdDm7U4H8fkROEZiah76_ML2RuDlR0nsDJr6f55vitp-rJahFJAaD9zM1ZOj1TvrbN1VkKvUujtbreRqtD7hyphenhyphenGEdSo-rcrDrCgA3qyCdzXTyRuoY95uobHXkYHgErLBy3am2ushHuGHNh6ffYTUT5Lf7zTmS5zQH3IBQfw/s320/20231013_201828.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I apparently missed a horse falling asleep on the absinthe bar on Thursday night, but nevermind. Friday with the Lovely UK Prussians was a good time.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUuwAUZN_gqYGQkdGI67NG2YcavovtQRu1TgVG7yhAvKZydr3Y5LCHBnnlq-tqeyu5xOeTQbB6dMOUT2fr4N2lSxQmRgbPsTc-Hy3GO3_v1B_LTUFBlpszLOjUuIVWZ_TXZhiYp88f_f8fkZS0KXNJOb4QQGE14RBeSHNPuLStNySM2yC9dEwOneHs00E/s4624/20231014_154154.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUuwAUZN_gqYGQkdGI67NG2YcavovtQRu1TgVG7yhAvKZydr3Y5LCHBnnlq-tqeyu5xOeTQbB6dMOUT2fr4N2lSxQmRgbPsTc-Hy3GO3_v1B_LTUFBlpszLOjUuIVWZ_TXZhiYp88f_f8fkZS0KXNJOb4QQGE14RBeSHNPuLStNySM2yC9dEwOneHs00E/s320/20231014_154154.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>(The lazarette, by this time the battle had moved off into the near distance).</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_Q9D3UmuA1QLdIs408HkH61dyD9xt0GIF28PhgaENgac88wUxNuSyYe5_8IWLxEBxfiLjdKZJvoNVHe1_KWkdQkciAd8pOjoE9QgF9rWXRjm971b-oybx4rdWyZO8tehkwiTPF2IyQ5v5LeBqPR8OS9CgsQTEeF-g7715_FLpfe5DTBnn1BKHf3eZTw/s1080/FB_IMG_1697806789649.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_Q9D3UmuA1QLdIs408HkH61dyD9xt0GIF28PhgaENgac88wUxNuSyYe5_8IWLxEBxfiLjdKZJvoNVHe1_KWkdQkciAd8pOjoE9QgF9rWXRjm971b-oybx4rdWyZO8tehkwiTPF2IyQ5v5LeBqPR8OS9CgsQTEeF-g7715_FLpfe5DTBnn1BKHf3eZTw/s320/FB_IMG_1697806789649.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>And so what of the future? Sitting here on New years eve, I don't know. This year other than Liepzig things seemed a bit meh. I liked Stansted park but feel I need a break, events are just a bit samey. </p><p>I have a lot of good friends I mainly see at events and that has been a big draw, the social side is one of the great features of reenactment, a dozen or more 45e sitting drunkenly singing around a fire will always be a warm memory. </p><p>And so onwards, have a great new year! </p></div>Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-76601053128285524682023-08-29T05:11:00.001-07:002023-08-29T05:17:46.436-07:002023, so far.<p> 2023 So far!</p><p>There has been Fort Amherst, a voyage to Stockholm at Midsomar to mark 500 years since Gustav Vasa became King and is seen as taking Sweden into the modern age, and Stansted park. </p><p>Fort Amherst came first, but I really don't have anything to say about it, was quite a bit of standing about, good to have a drink with friends, missed the one battle as I was showing a potential recruit around as it started and thought oh well, they probably don't need a doctor, turns out it would have helped with getting casualties into the fort to respawn, but nevermind.</p><p>on to Stockholm.... </p><p>Having spent a lovely Friday at the big city heritage park where historic buildings from all over Sweden are preserved and there is a big maypole festival.. the marches were on Saturday, one in the morning and a seemingly unscheduled one around the old city centre in the afternoon before a feast in the evening.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgbRRzA56X4Ej9dXpDfoWvFaDEsqqCewAcD4SuNf6r1o5lr9wD6b751seYkjkaFTQcHxRjxpfPbra22pmLcW-xKjzXQGfMmcWUkcyJhsmV8ltWEr5TiRlfj_ZQcDNc5924fkThCY_hThlohtPHM5asOOiuX_RFLb17q06UBOgLBQ-VXG7cIu710E4usQ/s4624/20230624_091435.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgbRRzA56X4Ej9dXpDfoWvFaDEsqqCewAcD4SuNf6r1o5lr9wD6b751seYkjkaFTQcHxRjxpfPbra22pmLcW-xKjzXQGfMmcWUkcyJhsmV8ltWEr5TiRlfj_ZQcDNc5924fkThCY_hThlohtPHM5asOOiuX_RFLb17q06UBOgLBQ-VXG7cIu710E4usQ/s320/20230624_091435.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The underground stations are different colours, shaped into caves, and contain art instalations.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOXVJ7dQl2bXXjuVnrQFMarqwYBEZiGuuxncBxZJ6g4R4wgU5A28_UPytzCZXmHeWOYxh1ca9BXKe_a7DYk53MlSuuiLlBil4BJ_sir8xkx2JAzWr4p-CEfB82g44WmlgupfK2WydhZHZBlWC-_z4zo97xMOq85BpwnDtSW4ohuvRDNAmVPTqc6Pcgu8/s1080/FB_IMG_1693309311179.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="811" data-original-width="1080" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOXVJ7dQl2bXXjuVnrQFMarqwYBEZiGuuxncBxZJ6g4R4wgU5A28_UPytzCZXmHeWOYxh1ca9BXKe_a7DYk53MlSuuiLlBil4BJ_sir8xkx2JAzWr4p-CEfB82g44WmlgupfK2WydhZHZBlWC-_z4zo97xMOq85BpwnDtSW4ohuvRDNAmVPTqc6Pcgu8/s320/FB_IMG_1693309311179.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Marching to the palace where the king and queen watched us pass beneath, the king of course being a descendent of Marshal Bernedotte. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_2P2CsMhp6XqJP8ev0S_c3I4pVDE9tcqsVwxTDtXrra53ZUdAOQHxAVtqkYGabrGKw4lTjp2LAbjBDyF3tWy9SRTC_VP4tt2zw2pgNMQvdSdQ8uM9j4SkLcE6KS2WwDRU7uKqqqX4ZfWxvVjvtzPuR3QAxSbc_0QSpXX1VfMRnBJU4TjEbOEUaMYMdo/s4624/20230624_162705.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5_2P2CsMhp6XqJP8ev0S_c3I4pVDE9tcqsVwxTDtXrra53ZUdAOQHxAVtqkYGabrGKw4lTjp2LAbjBDyF3tWy9SRTC_VP4tt2zw2pgNMQvdSdQ8uM9j4SkLcE6KS2WwDRU7uKqqqX4ZfWxvVjvtzPuR3QAxSbc_0QSpXX1VfMRnBJU4TjEbOEUaMYMdo/s320/20230624_162705.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Shenanigans in the old square, by the wooden horse museum.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy00yFKG2OXmR3y4aQPPwDNCRRBcs4gxBDqEvF4bdwPf9BVSM5JQIz9yfuQtN-lonJFgHiX6ww65gyVjKNDTNRLf8Egv7YU8I95HQToGWi_AYPDGz0agwjE-TW_rQ-IRltr6nr_0TfEjM1ZId1An1GFI7Tb140NsKxo1QTr_Dw9Nh8GgeM3QlK9FNOvCs/s4624/20230624_195146.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy00yFKG2OXmR3y4aQPPwDNCRRBcs4gxBDqEvF4bdwPf9BVSM5JQIz9yfuQtN-lonJFgHiX6ww65gyVjKNDTNRLf8Egv7YU8I95HQToGWi_AYPDGz0agwjE-TW_rQ-IRltr6nr_0TfEjM1ZId1An1GFI7Tb140NsKxo1QTr_Dw9Nh8GgeM3QlK9FNOvCs/s320/20230624_195146.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Underground again but this time the candlelit basement of the olde tavern. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96oC6d6ugGSi4f_jMU7U5mit7YhTcaGQ6tQePDtkiiTmFgNqsitX2bMmqs_DMSJ4nwHRAEpfEFxR7rF4kMvxHGS5Acj0NgAjKq_Mow7Pt43xgwJSx9TJmhOh-lHGkPVg8F4s2T1dPvzjysbs0-lLi95Z41od_OSUn_ild88EG_95MfbJxBsRj6PGZix8/s4624/20230625_120507.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96oC6d6ugGSi4f_jMU7U5mit7YhTcaGQ6tQePDtkiiTmFgNqsitX2bMmqs_DMSJ4nwHRAEpfEFxR7rF4kMvxHGS5Acj0NgAjKq_Mow7Pt43xgwJSx9TJmhOh-lHGkPVg8F4s2T1dPvzjysbs0-lLi95Z41od_OSUn_ild88EG_95MfbJxBsRj6PGZix8/s320/20230625_120507.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Sunday, had to be done, at meatballs for the people, was the best 'meat'balls I've even had, largely thanks to the mix of flavours with mash and gravy. <div><br /></div><div>Stansted house.. just visible? Walking from Rolands castle railway station.<br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5hQCKYY5no0zsKUrQ_uAkMNKydUSaTQV8fpRFMwph31acoaw0qkP9kHQDzWdYZ86gRjhn-tn3ejwxRYtZly8qVCyl_8XDM-_Ewhy2F_F1QlXVzgMdU5ISf3ZY30Z7pjC1OczcGRbi7uNo-yRzcfHPonTyyyp3N_bZCAAvfYu7M1yh3s7EYVwb5scZNE/s4624/20230715_103855.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5hQCKYY5no0zsKUrQ_uAkMNKydUSaTQV8fpRFMwph31acoaw0qkP9kHQDzWdYZ86gRjhn-tn3ejwxRYtZly8qVCyl_8XDM-_Ewhy2F_F1QlXVzgMdU5ISf3ZY30Z7pjC1OczcGRbi7uNo-yRzcfHPonTyyyp3N_bZCAAvfYu7M1yh3s7EYVwb5scZNE/s320/20230715_103855.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Are we there yet?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbAs6WJozAZ88406pjvYazXRoBvvol2fb-ByFEv30avhI-EFejyql9aCgOoS7_2DgoUQenkBon3QBGBKml0Kdj9aaN-udDjuMGMSiQ98FoKDPWWqMP1K7exz-VkVdNOY8aZejPrXbdi_y-RHzOcQWdwR3olX9553FQHRCX5MZivweC90OtgcYVH5jHCM/s4624/20230715_145411.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlbAs6WJozAZ88406pjvYazXRoBvvol2fb-ByFEv30avhI-EFejyql9aCgOoS7_2DgoUQenkBon3QBGBKml0Kdj9aaN-udDjuMGMSiQ98FoKDPWWqMP1K7exz-VkVdNOY8aZejPrXbdi_y-RHzOcQWdwR3olX9553FQHRCX5MZivweC90OtgcYVH5jHCM/s320/20230715_145411.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Serge, the twitcher, is amazed at the tits which Ian pointed out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The battle on Saturday was sadly called off with everyone on the field after two of the cavalry were injured early on, and required an ambulance to come on. Hopefully the guys are all mended now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunday saw the French seriously outnumbered as the Prussians who'd boosted our numbers were swapped back to the fiendish British side. Still we came on from the woods and lead them a merry dance. I died in what I thought was the last hurrah but someone the fighting carried on for a while after. Mopping up!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0qy9H1aWicw4AjFMMuMH3T1A4AvWgb42fN_aM13gfuPbf_ca-c8HAzowp1G8gLhb5b04x3q7eJGRtMSxuI-GtlpxxxVAtWZbQ8rb3XYzgXRkr8RoLSdD3-PUamlJdzbcb-DIf8TEh_fSTe3TMZqA21RO1T7pj15vJ1NTiQ3J8kc3s0R5g4ccRzZl4Kh0/s4624/20230716_120400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="4624" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0qy9H1aWicw4AjFMMuMH3T1A4AvWgb42fN_aM13gfuPbf_ca-c8HAzowp1G8gLhb5b04x3q7eJGRtMSxuI-GtlpxxxVAtWZbQ8rb3XYzgXRkr8RoLSdD3-PUamlJdzbcb-DIf8TEh_fSTe3TMZqA21RO1T7pj15vJ1NTiQ3J8kc3s0R5g4ccRzZl4Kh0/s320/20230716_120400.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A tank from the east, thoughtfully marked out as a Ukrainian T34, not at all Russian, really. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And the next event is far to the east, to Liepzig. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div>Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-70843838136739414462022-09-29T12:18:00.003-07:002022-09-29T13:02:20.334-07:00Twenty twenty two, two.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHy2pzyFQFlxxI7XQjor5J_kNAyfz85aBmDkXXMIGCfirMwT9qU4mPz4M8GIedTfSu68pZmRr7zEn76rf9DD6sh01CSvcslxvs4bgBxfiVw2QjMe-njGF4r-ZUMinnzNz7kgdYNWDMensN3U_w8KJHf1hW2e4cPPJOAGBC3Y5_lrSFMsRgyEE5FuKh/s4624/20220701_125325.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="2604" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHy2pzyFQFlxxI7XQjor5J_kNAyfz85aBmDkXXMIGCfirMwT9qU4mPz4M8GIedTfSu68pZmRr7zEn76rf9DD6sh01CSvcslxvs4bgBxfiVw2QjMe-njGF4r-ZUMinnzNz7kgdYNWDMensN3U_w8KJHf1hW2e4cPPJOAGBC3Y5_lrSFMsRgyEE5FuKh/s320/20220701_125325.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A hot year! The rest of 2022! After Waterloo I had only one day before going away again, then only a few days before Brettan and I confess the idea of writing up two events, now three, was a bit daunting yet a part of me still wanted to put something up for prosterity, like this blog was a diary I might look back on. I won't write an account of each event just any particular points or memories.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was heat wave week at Waterloo and the camp was near the largely restored chateux/farm of Hougoumont but more importantly for many of us were the lovely leafy trees down the centre, separating the British and Prussian camps. A lot of time was spent under those trees, a real difference to Waterloo 2015 which as a very busy first time visit was spent sight seeing and drilling. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKL0Vns_i3pVsc-1sDR5ogx1HvnjR5vqiqsCt2CbIbfemzDvk0wqHIl3QRKP5wJ7wO6OdzosNBMVTZc8iP244YS-PpthVVd06c8KOSL4eds5A3L213KQ3_bnoTekXvH76tl1hV98-uLoB4zacIRG9CdVWUJNMpHZbXLua0EMfhnpxF4Do7w9XJIQGa/s1620/FB_IMG_1655759776033.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1620" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKL0Vns_i3pVsc-1sDR5ogx1HvnjR5vqiqsCt2CbIbfemzDvk0wqHIl3QRKP5wJ7wO6OdzosNBMVTZc8iP244YS-PpthVVd06c8KOSL4eds5A3L213KQ3_bnoTekXvH76tl1hV98-uLoB4zacIRG9CdVWUJNMpHZbXLua0EMfhnpxF4Do7w9XJIQGa/s320/FB_IMG_1655759776033.jpg" width="213" /></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Under my adopted tree.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicobMgiBfHzzoskDDCNKGIM-JpRSEshB9o1-iQoBvR5zCzQZTVhIwirz5S3g6jCzebs1jkV-7p84DqokWlJ8oHI0mq6hWhY2Yff4mReNV2zaXDPqOd8oWcyN4sq-TzQZP-9VRCPDs-xSOkZyqvQYIGv5h0-zKdriyVP7LAxmKNKs04M1NC4Fi9TCi8/s1080/FB_IMG_1656070049713.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1080" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicobMgiBfHzzoskDDCNKGIM-JpRSEshB9o1-iQoBvR5zCzQZTVhIwirz5S3g6jCzebs1jkV-7p84DqokWlJ8oHI0mq6hWhY2Yff4mReNV2zaXDPqOd8oWcyN4sq-TzQZP-9VRCPDs-xSOkZyqvQYIGv5h0-zKdriyVP7LAxmKNKs04M1NC4Fi9TCi8/s320/FB_IMG_1656070049713.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So my role was as medical officer to the Prussian artillery, and just for one battle as I had to leave to get the Eurostar earlier than planned, but being one of the few in camp when the battle loomed on Sunday I got to open a gate and watch Napoleon, Ney and the French cavalry all ride through.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The cannon was towed up to the field on Friday evening and being on the trailer going over the rough road was the closest I'll probably get to being in the horse artillery.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> In the Saturday battle as well as helping to push a gun about I did have an actual nosebleed to deal with. My patient sitting next to field marshal Blücher himself! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The sun set as the mighty French attack failed and they then made a last stand. I got the honour of firing the last shot from 'our' cannon on the far left flank. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Q5xQlGOHAfO-l3S66wseHJaZRPj_7K0yzCXcrcz5D9fePFLOVaETK1J-mDjb--0EgZNOzd3K0FC5y62TNX4y3P3VuiMNO4DhqOzd3lnw6SJysjh7Ze9-Lkx8mJP3O4wozLSEFg2J3GYZOf7ko3WK07OB9Ki9RKGyouzlZud5ia4UlsFYbcB7yheL/s1080/FB_IMG_1655734060473.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="772" data-original-width="1080" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Q5xQlGOHAfO-l3S66wseHJaZRPj_7K0yzCXcrcz5D9fePFLOVaETK1J-mDjb--0EgZNOzd3K0FC5y62TNX4y3P3VuiMNO4DhqOzd3lnw6SJysjh7Ze9-Lkx8mJP3O4wozLSEFg2J3GYZOf7ko3WK07OB9Ki9RKGyouzlZud5ia4UlsFYbcB7yheL/s320/FB_IMG_1655734060473.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bretten! (In Baden-Wurtemberg) My third visit, last one being 2017. I find the two covid years seem like a black hole when working out dates, something from five years ago feels like three. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Not much had changed and the town was very keen to get back into it after the above break, it certainly was very busy and joyful and we were invited to a feast of watermelon and feta, fresh flatbread, eggs in green sauce, shredded oranges and cous cous and some sort of meat dollop, if you so wanted.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The tavern in it's little square is always a lovely place and you must be appropriately dressed on the Landskneckt side. No trainers! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPK_yg5a2adRQpBivXQatX0B8mIqVxLrlBEPup_wb1iyB6OX6AjOTrCNyuvCeZUQYBqCodLx7NWYo-gP1j0KFjvvJNRMl2tDq59-tkbC8f469NbY881OqIddqXN45O-7FLNBe4myWMEr1oelU4cWhoM36y-C18E0hXa4yEyQ3HHJ0neEoCGvyLf9l/s4624/20220701_225844.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2604" data-original-width="4624" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPK_yg5a2adRQpBivXQatX0B8mIqVxLrlBEPup_wb1iyB6OX6AjOTrCNyuvCeZUQYBqCodLx7NWYo-gP1j0KFjvvJNRMl2tDq59-tkbC8f469NbY881OqIddqXN45O-7FLNBe4myWMEr1oelU4cWhoM36y-C18E0hXa4yEyQ3HHJ0neEoCGvyLf9l/s320/20220701_225844.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Friday was a battle practice, the 'Story' of the siege now in 60 parts each announced by a gun firing! Aaaand your on. I was an arrow magnet during practice but not on the Saturday night when I just got stabbed. <div>The night ended in the town square with disco dancing to a covers band. <br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4G7-jTG2x-KPSFCswkXexEMzkP6BtiidX2X2mSOglofc3JAUGD5AJbTDjC19iUulY_cPLRfsXw0R1pZQ94V33QI67sM_dv_ZG55Dr93SPj1sOG2J2Beilfn9mpHYqh8UJCpHnzPfyuu8_BXQJB96vW8eZ_elkztjyrnOFHJZpRh6eTW1YcDEKEkOl/s960/FB_IMG_1657135534410.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="960" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4G7-jTG2x-KPSFCswkXexEMzkP6BtiidX2X2mSOglofc3JAUGD5AJbTDjC19iUulY_cPLRfsXw0R1pZQ94V33QI67sM_dv_ZG55Dr93SPj1sOG2J2Beilfn9mpHYqh8UJCpHnzPfyuu8_BXQJB96vW8eZ_elkztjyrnOFHJZpRh6eTW1YcDEKEkOl/s320/FB_IMG_1657135534410.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What colour are the enemy? Er, red, yellow, blue... orange.. white.. anyone facing the wrong way.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqdYNA1c9cFER70ew6PyZdoRRc7AEmqRcfizVm2MebmvhNcXcKKdihL5kxkYGfGfxIj1prNoL1OU3OObW86ChSaJWQEEdsTmcpaUnQEFH43EYPF7_Nq9evjJce92DI8wdx3rIqEoGjGloxUJy6zhgDY-438hyzVoLl15I3_BuzLhFqfx8h88BU3aeG/s1080/FB_IMG_1656922558394.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="608" data-original-width="1080" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqdYNA1c9cFER70ew6PyZdoRRc7AEmqRcfizVm2MebmvhNcXcKKdihL5kxkYGfGfxIj1prNoL1OU3OObW86ChSaJWQEEdsTmcpaUnQEFH43EYPF7_Nq9evjJce92DI8wdx3rIqEoGjGloxUJy6zhgDY-438hyzVoLl15I3_BuzLhFqfx8h88BU3aeG/s320/FB_IMG_1656922558394.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Scary C16 bee-keepers or possibly baddies from Dr Who. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Hole park.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Owing to some absences and injuries the French were lead into battle by an experienced NCO whilst I, having a big hat, took up being L'Emporer's aide de camp and adjutant to the French, even being equipped with a walkie talkie to aid co-ordination with the other side but generally just scribbled notes with an oversized pencil.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFlo7H6frevzuBLaa5euVRSD4qjk_tTf20TElenW5B4jy_teDy76AvgWr0niULc__Xal-lLhHKhehUMr9-AZ2LAVBMXPqFEvLzo7lcKCcdL7VO7RTyWFF_wbEOU2PcgAliTEWt06rws7tGU-6c-9zLmPQ27hxuRChyHTv4BrSr0h6nnqzjC3xBIVr/s4624/20220925_101909.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2604" data-original-width="4624" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFlo7H6frevzuBLaa5euVRSD4qjk_tTf20TElenW5B4jy_teDy76AvgWr0niULc__Xal-lLhHKhehUMr9-AZ2LAVBMXPqFEvLzo7lcKCcdL7VO7RTyWFF_wbEOU2PcgAliTEWt06rws7tGU-6c-9zLmPQ27hxuRChyHTv4BrSr0h6nnqzjC3xBIVr/w400-h225/20220925_101909.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">From it absolutely pissing down when we arrived and put up the tents the weather was sunny in the day. Hat discipline has become very lax in camp! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhULmaYpaI6vqtE2gN-Dar1KJCnbMxFnMZ8T-jpju_iWIo285j_ipCpL2BolDPp3LcHOtYk31z7f8RTVC57oxh0oSIIaJPjS8O19QYUjD1fRidXY75Mn2sBSiXj99bu7jRsFQmCi_JMQhgeOUyREHtyfMMv9xBjmNOlA_ePr4wfM7Av5kfEDAOqaEv0/s1440/FB_IMG_1664219429837.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhULmaYpaI6vqtE2gN-Dar1KJCnbMxFnMZ8T-jpju_iWIo285j_ipCpL2BolDPp3LcHOtYk31z7f8RTVC57oxh0oSIIaJPjS8O19QYUjD1fRidXY75Mn2sBSiXj99bu7jRsFQmCi_JMQhgeOUyREHtyfMMv9xBjmNOlA_ePr4wfM7Av5kfEDAOqaEv0/s320/FB_IMG_1664219429837.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Saturday evening saw a repeat of last years skirmish in the woods (sending a horseman to ask if the British were coming was far more effective than trying to get an answer on the walkie talkie) so yours truely had a price on his head. After last year when we had about ten troops and they turned up with about thirty and an artillery crew we decided on being sneakier and I managed to elude capture and make it back to camp, though I almost collapsed when I got back, I'm clearly not used to such exercise.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDHASiZXzX27QuJeuXgP6oBU-fcIe1w9Yqgqe9kppo0KrTzcyKJ-wnRNN0gc7oDJ4Z8qvnZC7CTGQ3jKxYz2JG6ck_nv98vtGcMk9QHtnx-x8-l66Lu7D-jXFdls_NG-kFCRYzwkxcvaAK5btJSkcILaLxuvrJDw_h2mlCrJ6huavrTpp5xHUXc8pM/s4624/20220924_080004.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2604" data-original-width="4624" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDHASiZXzX27QuJeuXgP6oBU-fcIe1w9Yqgqe9kppo0KrTzcyKJ-wnRNN0gc7oDJ4Z8qvnZC7CTGQ3jKxYz2JG6ck_nv98vtGcMk9QHtnx-x8-l66Lu7D-jXFdls_NG-kFCRYzwkxcvaAK5btJSkcILaLxuvrJDw_h2mlCrJ6huavrTpp5xHUXc8pM/s320/20220924_080004.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> So what of the future?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I confess the weekend as ADC was enjoyable and would do it again although it was a particular set of circumstance. I am also aware that I don't want to be one of those guys who turns up as part of an entourage. There were messages to deliver, notes to take, hobnobbing to do, and just that Napoleon should have one or two staff or it looks odd, but not too many. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I do like the fact I can take the field as a Doctor and treat the wounded, smell the smoke, get a muddy knee, and risk the cannon fire (and on occasion escape through the woods), so I have a purpose. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But in camp as just a doctor it can be a bit slow, though there were plenty of general questions at Napoleon's tent, and there is already a very entertaining, lively and well equipped surgery display in the French camp so a further table of medical nik naks would be a bit redundant. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I think a middle path would be best, drop in to see l'emperor for a glass of vino and then roll the sleaves up and get stuck in. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Dates are already on the calender for 2023...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkjwl7QxLRqWrOxL8Zubuum9JdjDw4neIknG-_PFUbVjT8XK590qQYWlDJ4KOENEPJuQjNUfDgRbPOOq_6WK4CzS4cxB_aM6-igKdJQXHwntYHoKOBzyEpDJzyXonguzsrIypEQ6qXKa1QEIXWGVNRQt2qe_vNs5HNZ4pi1JByGO6XifZfk85hgfb/s4624/20220925_194934.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="2604" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkjwl7QxLRqWrOxL8Zubuum9JdjDw4neIknG-_PFUbVjT8XK590qQYWlDJ4KOENEPJuQjNUfDgRbPOOq_6WK4CzS4cxB_aM6-igKdJQXHwntYHoKOBzyEpDJzyXonguzsrIypEQ6qXKa1QEIXWGVNRQt2qe_vNs5HNZ4pi1JByGO6XifZfk85hgfb/s320/20220925_194934.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div>Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-60317158153997563602022-06-02T00:50:00.003-07:002022-06-02T00:50:32.594-07:00Lewes and Nunhead.<p>It has been a couple of weeks since these two modest events and I pondered whether to write them up, but decided to as a matter of completeness.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioVpgVq7skGVg6zTK09AnAumRpulXGUt4YS3rwNgZne1-wuAvhEIOPJbyYNGdZrw1585LFhIn4RUZ76QqUPL4HFQMQ2sJ36-t_oMOBxGfDbovR26rS0pgEIrVwdLh23coIgC_AQ4G3pioTtMgMVnQW0iIq7zT5TninEFchsslMgs2LXRT_kePMTG_D/s268/images%20(17).jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="268" data-original-width="188" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioVpgVq7skGVg6zTK09AnAumRpulXGUt4YS3rwNgZne1-wuAvhEIOPJbyYNGdZrw1585LFhIn4RUZ76QqUPL4HFQMQ2sJ36-t_oMOBxGfDbovR26rS0pgEIrVwdLh23coIgC_AQ4G3pioTtMgMVnQW0iIq7zT5TninEFchsslMgs2LXRT_kePMTG_D/s1600/images%20(17).jpeg" width="188" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The battle of Lewes, the official poster for the event, without a single mention of where or what time anything was happening! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I was only going on the Sunday but as Lewes is a short train ride away I decided to nip over on the Saturday night to catch a bit of socialising and broke out the Fransiscan habit, the only bit of kit I've got that has been improved by being a bit Moth eaten during lockdown. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Played an amusing medieval board game, which no one knew the name of, but I may try and make my own copy. Had a couple of pints in my half pint mug which involved drinking half a pint at the beer tent counter before transferring the rest to my modest mug. I have tankards but as a poor friar I don't think it would be appropriate to have something big and shiny.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixseqFvuG3DXCj4-79-WYxYc_81mLlCrBPOSzO15vdeVCdhTfKoGy0CgAiDP1B0b2_E58WRK9XpVd3oTpxxQr5OIo-wio34TGtMGIIltSAJQqwl1-EDAQdvhdIPp2hVHCPMxCErAzdUsYo7_DcDEKSfJX7Kp4N-MdqIMl8IAcgERG1NXI8bqcms5KL/s4032/IMG_20220514_202421695.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixseqFvuG3DXCj4-79-WYxYc_81mLlCrBPOSzO15vdeVCdhTfKoGy0CgAiDP1B0b2_E58WRK9XpVd3oTpxxQr5OIo-wio34TGtMGIIltSAJQqwl1-EDAQdvhdIPp2hVHCPMxCErAzdUsYo7_DcDEKSfJX7Kp4N-MdqIMl8IAcgERG1NXI8bqcms5KL/s320/IMG_20220514_202421695.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Back in Lewes on Sunday I was twice accosted by visitors wanting to know where the skirmishes were.. at three points on the advance into town.. I only vaguely knew and was wandering in the general direction myself. I didn't really get any historical questions all day, although I was mistakenly referred to as 'Father' to which I replied "Oh no, I'm not a father, not that I know of.' </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The king gets beaten again on Lewes high street, some good cajoling went on. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuKA9yDHb0E-m466I_PUXpnlq-xhYP83qgZ6fmcM5wu2G_BhQXXtLqwYsiYLSAcNL2prNmtNra2nWYUNhvLP2N5LZMx61LdFQjl7R8oe4Wte-xE0smlZ9IgecO7SPVOQImfEMwKEann_ik9CEF5ZsJewVIMN4ImHKxPyva1tXJEMG9dFhtJ1WgWaXO/s4032/IMG_20220515_121749026.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuKA9yDHb0E-m466I_PUXpnlq-xhYP83qgZ6fmcM5wu2G_BhQXXtLqwYsiYLSAcNL2prNmtNra2nWYUNhvLP2N5LZMx61LdFQjl7R8oe4Wte-xE0smlZ9IgecO7SPVOQImfEMwKEann_ik9CEF5ZsJewVIMN4ImHKxPyva1tXJEMG9dFhtJ1WgWaXO/s320/IMG_20220515_121749026.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Back at the camp there was an assortment of stalls and attractions from the inevitable hog roast and mead to crockery smashing, archery and a treasure hunt, a leather hooded executioner did a very good show every so often, although someone told me they didn't think it was entirely suitable for children, mainly due to the crushing of testicles.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8-f9JtbgziWOnSrZUYDNGFv3rF8AQZP7EP5zvoTRInEevoYSSyqkgm5oslKqpBMher2-XSC8_rVGTm-pxBGS8NUX3AP9TUAmTBRIJjqgC936BC5TvN9q-arAQ_guyZqiuKDSlAZoYzyohjW8vs4X1vuEGQhNmtjnO7QnAku-_7PZvzKZmcEhBsg5/s4032/IMG_20220515_135258066.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8-f9JtbgziWOnSrZUYDNGFv3rF8AQZP7EP5zvoTRInEevoYSSyqkgm5oslKqpBMher2-XSC8_rVGTm-pxBGS8NUX3AP9TUAmTBRIJjqgC936BC5TvN9q-arAQ_guyZqiuKDSlAZoYzyohjW8vs4X1vuEGQhNmtjnO7QnAku-_7PZvzKZmcEhBsg5/s320/IMG_20220515_135258066.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Despite being fairly local I had never seen all the ruins of Lewes priory which was once a pretty big, solid complex, like many laid to waste by Henry VIII. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1jwTwJqrGl424hfkrGC5tF08V6tTjYHuCts1b9sDmk0ry1wdece4Jylz022GS2f0HYS5w22B9xOnajq_k9aEHUi-TyYCTlNvYbwqEnDNepplAdKoWl1D95wV73zySiJhwtOd6uz7CSEGs4bjzkwIq9hyGb1Yu08cHYCJu5YS5WWp2fzuMeslhs0F/s3264/IMG_20220515_140722450.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="1632" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1jwTwJqrGl424hfkrGC5tF08V6tTjYHuCts1b9sDmk0ry1wdece4Jylz022GS2f0HYS5w22B9xOnajq_k9aEHUi-TyYCTlNvYbwqEnDNepplAdKoWl1D95wV73zySiJhwtOd6uz7CSEGs4bjzkwIq9hyGb1Yu08cHYCJu5YS5WWp2fzuMeslhs0F/s320/IMG_20220515_140722450.jpg" width="160" /></a></div><div> The ghost of the priory!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWREk7WgCdWOROfTvzrnUPPyc7pAGCtEPERnAhQ2Yy6nemQkUkTx4iBh4pInI3ElsNvqR329G7Ymqw4-zE81Y3kYjLnzdpyD59JDXdpp9HRjUuBArazlFrtKkpEER4zwQ3FZjI2mXgVqSm0nyoO05AEqK1i3ND4HTXd0KwzBIT9059XL50-j_ZyadQ/s1024/Nunhead%20mural.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="676" data-original-width="1024" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWREk7WgCdWOROfTvzrnUPPyc7pAGCtEPERnAhQ2Yy6nemQkUkTx4iBh4pInI3ElsNvqR329G7Ymqw4-zE81Y3kYjLnzdpyD59JDXdpp9HRjUuBArazlFrtKkpEER4zwQ3FZjI2mXgVqSm0nyoO05AEqK1i3ND4HTXd0KwzBIT9059XL50-j_ZyadQ/s320/Nunhead%20mural.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nunhead cemetery open day.. I thought would be a bit of a niche event, one of our small band chatting to an old lady and her small dog whilst the rest sip tea and nibble on cucumber sandwiches. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was actually quite full on and busy with all sorts of visitors, including quite a few goths, naturally. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqHn1gjvhGpHlF6x0SA543xn7NTlYL_joHz7h_Rw1zPgVMSoikl8eQzEAtoD3MUZaekb911oH5LGatvYQVuUgFr6n-CEQE7DV0RvHBGYWfkrXiJGV6teUcg-QKZdyPwpH_I4fMvsjyPG3TxEE3LIduSS0qXmlkpNQ1Z2pqZ3vHrsCP8doqP1mevk5/s4032/IMG_20220521_110036711.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqHn1gjvhGpHlF6x0SA543xn7NTlYL_joHz7h_Rw1zPgVMSoikl8eQzEAtoD3MUZaekb911oH5LGatvYQVuUgFr6n-CEQE7DV0RvHBGYWfkrXiJGV6teUcg-QKZdyPwpH_I4fMvsjyPG3TxEE3LIduSS0qXmlkpNQ1Z2pqZ3vHrsCP8doqP1mevk5/s320/IMG_20220521_110036711.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">The connection with the 45e is that a number of veterans of the Napoleonic wars are buried there, including a Corporal Dickson, who was apparently with Sergeant Ewart when he captured the Eagle. Several times in the day we marched up the main path and saluted the grave which drew some attention and gave the MC a chance to talk about the subject.</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdT1mtq_Pg0So132-OaaL8P0aferk0ueWg0BWnjc2vLWTMpw4Z0Ljn42KQQmO5PFGGraoDNNhT8HCOtHkiVoW1XF9ChuOgW3x349V-KgsHNLja4MoZbNwS6hn8tOUiyYqs3dbuGd6PKtJ8aZkDuXwHcPhu3zAn7yPMzdE4h8pnEvK1Y7SCKRsuDFA/s4032/IMG_20220521_135704641_BURST001.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSdT1mtq_Pg0So132-OaaL8P0aferk0ueWg0BWnjc2vLWTMpw4Z0Ljn42KQQmO5PFGGraoDNNhT8HCOtHkiVoW1XF9ChuOgW3x349V-KgsHNLja4MoZbNwS6hn8tOUiyYqs3dbuGd6PKtJ8aZkDuXwHcPhu3zAn7yPMzdE4h8pnEvK1Y7SCKRsuDFA/s320/IMG_20220521_135704641_BURST001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>We were all kept quite busy with three tables of displays to talk about, or answer questions, why we were here and is that a real gun? being most common.<div>I often think I'm not keen on children but like all people it depends on them and a lot of the kids were very bright, and polite in that muesli belt kind of way. </div><div><br /></div><div>A much needed pint and pub meal followed, a warm day of standing, talking and gesticulating can really tire you out. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOq6oXolvsz6ZBCyPnS4HkFuykp7Vctp7EDua-GS9MKT40zFOFxMxqd3_tEU_qEWTR9_JdrRAl7KEZFRUElfcp1lW8ni1VizmxrD3FhLAi4Juw8BamlPE9TWpSEub-wpgprUgqgfndrP_WGhGh1jsNK5Opzqm4Q8Txb74cRqsf80SKA-Uxs5QL61w/s4032/IMG_20220521_130925579.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwOq6oXolvsz6ZBCyPnS4HkFuykp7Vctp7EDua-GS9MKT40zFOFxMxqd3_tEU_qEWTR9_JdrRAl7KEZFRUElfcp1lW8ni1VizmxrD3FhLAi4Juw8BamlPE9TWpSEub-wpgprUgqgfndrP_WGhGh1jsNK5Opzqm4Q8Txb74cRqsf80SKA-Uxs5QL61w/s320/IMG_20220521_130925579.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Next.. should be Waterloo! For many the first big event since lockdown. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There was a possibility of going with the Prussians last year but covid still shut things down to Netherlanders only, but I may see them this year so plan to go as a civilian doctor capable of literally being in both camps. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I have a 'new' doctors bag that isn't actually falling apart but there is a rather too modern lock on one side not shown in the picture (on ebay). Oh well, I'm sure it can be disguised or just held out of sight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I could have got away with being a French surgeon but was a bit wary someone would discover some irregularity! Also means I don't have to travel with a sword and big hat. Bonus.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Two week today I'll be enroute! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoT7dr3-s8OK_7OXYrrrYU0IW4H5XcQk18nngapRLsD-N4bnY7wnDjboK-wln9srHpX6NFSbfbV_KMeATn2ShXgoPvDe6D_GKBUPY1Uw4DBLmoG_00eLfEArB-zaVFsMXpqiWaI6aVxKactK8fvVPzg-VzysbJ4v7FcBXkOiC2nLrjg24ZTLTIn8n3/s2203/Bataille_Waterloo_1815_reconstitution_2011_cuirassier.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1685" data-original-width="2203" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoT7dr3-s8OK_7OXYrrrYU0IW4H5XcQk18nngapRLsD-N4bnY7wnDjboK-wln9srHpX6NFSbfbV_KMeATn2ShXgoPvDe6D_GKBUPY1Uw4DBLmoG_00eLfEArB-zaVFsMXpqiWaI6aVxKactK8fvVPzg-VzysbJ4v7FcBXkOiC2nLrjg24ZTLTIn8n3/s320/Bataille_Waterloo_1815_reconstitution_2011_cuirassier.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-1212527415743187792022-03-14T10:00:00.004-07:002023-08-29T05:19:24.399-07:00A farewell to arms.<p> ..and with the stroke of a pen Henriette went to live with a friend.</p><p>My musket since 2014 (although first used on the field of Leipzig in 2013) has been given up for several reasons. We are moving in a few months and a new place would require a new securi-chord being bored into the wall, not a huge deal but my licence runs out next year anyway and renewal now requires approval by a doctor and mine has been quite negative about signing similar things before. It can also be quite expensive for what it is.. and I might not actually use a musket in any given season.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgcgI8SY8pAC-AnAmJRuPpbKjuQw7ludy42oNw_fthRu4OY72yG-Dt5Wa3grYERzbPEocc03fUb7bb8U8oPP4gfeWvZjlTL_LxRCUcvtBcV-KP6_ZZv4C1VAWwZqi4coeDr_gX-kKZcKTw87tProJrKHL_USDJqIIIw8hSntjl89paAE41m-8UbW9S=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="642" data-original-width="960" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjgcgI8SY8pAC-AnAmJRuPpbKjuQw7ludy42oNw_fthRu4OY72yG-Dt5Wa3grYERzbPEocc03fUb7bb8U8oPP4gfeWvZjlTL_LxRCUcvtBcV-KP6_ZZv4C1VAWwZqi4coeDr_gX-kKZcKTw87tProJrKHL_USDJqIIIw8hSntjl89paAE41m-8UbW9S=w400-h268" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">It was nice to have incase an event was short of people who could fire or a filming opportunity came up, or if there is a post apocalypse scenario where I have to defend the house but meh, I'll just have to use the machette. A musket is also too slow to load if facing multiple zombies. </span></div><p>I am now there to save people, mainly, I did stab a riflemen at Crouch ridge, but I consider that just part of my civil duty. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8K7Gxvtln04E_Mk6KCOeUfls6mFP8zfuHWu0Fr0wBOJm0mWQrZO0SSFbCfdKn8xtOA1zYJg9Kt73Nxxy5vQMcd3RTf0uCF-W7nE07v5sydBpKKMERbaHCWTVBSM8jXLO6ATz5g_qQ2XvZ5Y0-ArlRCvfexVhlhDairAg7prSVyI4zWVzgMErjigeL=s1296" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1296" data-original-width="997" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh8K7Gxvtln04E_Mk6KCOeUfls6mFP8zfuHWu0Fr0wBOJm0mWQrZO0SSFbCfdKn8xtOA1zYJg9Kt73Nxxy5vQMcd3RTf0uCF-W7nE07v5sydBpKKMERbaHCWTVBSM8jXLO6ATz5g_qQ2XvZ5Y0-ArlRCvfexVhlhDairAg7prSVyI4zWVzgMErjigeL=s320" width="246" /></a></div><p>New research on 45eme kit also means much of it requires change if I go to an event as a soldier and again it isn't worth adapting or buying new gaiters, breeches, shirt, stock etc and not using it. My veteran campaign trousers have retired. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIKTeiIgTrLMpsfvuoaBvbLt3teWkOBalWKXsjUWo7AS8faKHF7k0XerlfcPQkHcdL3MfRm2k5vkWmHPMgvJu4-mO3tNRl0pcqYMm-JDqF-tSYRn-J8O4jGGYW-ckfdY-9DJPWHqb_PFt4lnMRoXVvSIOSIpCunRUJ2bKpuITxpOKdtHMJT56-_Pb4=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="892" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiIKTeiIgTrLMpsfvuoaBvbLt3teWkOBalWKXsjUWo7AS8faKHF7k0XerlfcPQkHcdL3MfRm2k5vkWmHPMgvJu4-mO3tNRl0pcqYMm-JDqF-tSYRn-J8O4jGGYW-ckfdY-9DJPWHqb_PFt4lnMRoXVvSIOSIpCunRUJ2bKpuITxpOKdtHMJT56-_Pb4=s320" width="297" /></a></div><br /><p>We had some grand times together (with Henriette, not the trousers), I remember a particularly satisfying double-loaded shot at Waterloo! and skirmishing in the woods at campaign events was always fun.. but things move on, Let it go! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7vfbNNkIJrBrMKa46e_nPW5WHeRczYCOfAkwXS1yywo2ltFNlK_n4vLoStbIXR3KbMR8lvgZprOTBkzoyyZttjmm-EPqLLzpQ5JTXjl2VSDgog_BCa9e9Tsnc25Lybb3wfgmi0-9wMFqlgrdGmYi3eaoKomXbLpbU8DHwTdJ_4Uj0E8veBvbQozJZ=s2000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="2000" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj7vfbNNkIJrBrMKa46e_nPW5WHeRczYCOfAkwXS1yywo2ltFNlK_n4vLoStbIXR3KbMR8lvgZprOTBkzoyyZttjmm-EPqLLzpQ5JTXjl2VSDgog_BCa9e9Tsnc25Lybb3wfgmi0-9wMFqlgrdGmYi3eaoKomXbLpbU8DHwTdJ_4Uj0E8veBvbQozJZ=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></div><p>And what of 2022? Sadly what would have been my first event has just been cancelled. After two years of covid cancellations.. we emerge into the light of a new summer with restrictions ended.. then Putin's darkness swallows the false dawn. </p><p>It would have been near Hanover at a small palace occasionally inhabited by Jerome Bonaparte and I would have enjoyed a royal appointment for the weekend, think how that would have looked on my CV! </p><p>It is sickening that we can have war in Europe in 2022 but I feel cancelling an event over it being inappropriate is not something I can really get behind, events didn't stop because of war in Syria or Yemen or Iraq or Afghanistan or Yugoslavia. </p><p>What of Waterloo? Will that go the same way? Assuming a new covid variant doesn't emerge. Some reenactors I know have said the covid slump drained their enthusiasm, got them out of the habit. 2022 needs to get them back out there! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjl9spYQkLUPAq98HIsW_y5stkPMX4J4GScmSGKhU37PO_zRcaxhYgmKL6PDdGbrHe31NYs1PxZACaZVCbwXPYWqvGD-O4GtOkhbxnkB41YOMJuchsSzsxDpMk0msWv8Mk4hmPm1T_4Es383i1cWMBskljUevtReHLeMDvdtF1NTPe6m1En-h-xFJib=s785" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="785" data-original-width="668" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjl9spYQkLUPAq98HIsW_y5stkPMX4J4GScmSGKhU37PO_zRcaxhYgmKL6PDdGbrHe31NYs1PxZACaZVCbwXPYWqvGD-O4GtOkhbxnkB41YOMJuchsSzsxDpMk0msWv8Mk4hmPm1T_4Es383i1cWMBskljUevtReHLeMDvdtF1NTPe6m1En-h-xFJib=w340-h400" width="340" /></a></div><p>A big event in Russia (Borodino 2022) was still inviting participants just a couple of weeks ago.. suffice to say it was lots of non/no/nein/ne's from the international community. </p><p>Reenactment is a community, I remember having breakfast with some friendly Russians back in 2013. Hopefully we will all come together again. At the same event there was a small protest that the reenactment glorified war.. everyone involved knows better than the average person how much death, wounding, hunger and sickness goes hand in hand with any war. Education is often a goal but it is still a hobby meant to be enjoyed. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuaXnMvn9gyi2Kl8KwapCrbQEXcZSB9halIn0J8CJ_h5f1zZIFRLzLVw0fyWbaJzqFGpaHqS47Es--X8mSESnTGDcHxe2ONa7h8cXjZSvwl7k_PyYq9qC4gL0EQyx0LLXn88QVS6MtFxu8JHOG_obeoq5oaGUfxWYjDtYMbEwD_m-159IoyOaqeZGN=s1079" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1079" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjuaXnMvn9gyi2Kl8KwapCrbQEXcZSB9halIn0J8CJ_h5f1zZIFRLzLVw0fyWbaJzqFGpaHqS47Es--X8mSESnTGDcHxe2ONa7h8cXjZSvwl7k_PyYq9qC4gL0EQyx0LLXn88QVS6MtFxu8JHOG_obeoq5oaGUfxWYjDtYMbEwD_m-159IoyOaqeZGN=w400-h268" width="400" /></a></div><p>I look forward to the day I can post about an event with friends from around the world! Maybe that will still be this year. Stay safe! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitQOtbYkIw7E0-q3ft9gVTvl42YxgGJKJasXBFpuUPTZMbiHNMV_nDnnps7T7FEpFi8y_oVkbRfA5WU1RfygDwu_BikkSWebdbTVcOLo_EHKpJbaLtrHt529jxiEgV4JuAzkXMbe3fiEA4ik3CnvfPBJ_wytYEnn6KxuvK7x8_gm9oEzHAJFM1d54J=s788" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="487" data-original-width="788" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitQOtbYkIw7E0-q3ft9gVTvl42YxgGJKJasXBFpuUPTZMbiHNMV_nDnnps7T7FEpFi8y_oVkbRfA5WU1RfygDwu_BikkSWebdbTVcOLo_EHKpJbaLtrHt529jxiEgV4JuAzkXMbe3fiEA4ik3CnvfPBJ_wytYEnn6KxuvK7x8_gm9oEzHAJFM1d54J=w400-h248" width="400" /></a>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-37689572434680319012021-10-03T08:54:00.002-07:002021-10-03T10:33:59.291-07:00Wholesome park.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Hole park! Some would say the flagship event of the Napoleonic association calender each year.. obviously missed in 2020 how would it go in this post-covid but not really post-covid autumn?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I think the sudden panic about petrol probably effected the weekend more than any pandemic issues.. with some late arrivals and early departures and possibly a few would be visitors staying at home, you really can't get there except by car. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Being outside covid might never have existed, except for sanitizer in the portaloos and a bit around food, and no longer do bottles get passed around the camp fire, which is probably a good thing on many levels. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh79TXCadnobgsJZ2Q6Qkioj0UXUwoTyQYxAsuXXf3ZGQNqTcPFtNr4zHcbzlB1smorXOGKbM0K861CcdZKhoSeyWwFedzhLQn6oG1FuB8Sj3rht7jpJ8_m4wdmyyznoCnQWGlgP7eJ1C8/s4032/IMG_20210926_162806008_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh79TXCadnobgsJZ2Q6Qkioj0UXUwoTyQYxAsuXXf3ZGQNqTcPFtNr4zHcbzlB1smorXOGKbM0K861CcdZKhoSeyWwFedzhLQn6oG1FuB8Sj3rht7jpJ8_m4wdmyyznoCnQWGlgP7eJ1C8/s320/IMG_20210926_162806008_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I actually decided a few days before to put on a display table and found someone coming along who would kindly bring a fold out table as I certainly couldn't manage one and three bags on the train part of getting there, and got some pictures/information laminated. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"What is the parsnip for?" May well have been the most common question of the weekend, usually answered with "Oh, that is for my dinner later."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"What, really?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I actually thought it would be a conversation piece, but in practical terms it was also a good paper weight. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No one guessed what the most common ailment in the French army was (scabies), dysentery or syphilis being a common guess and 'Lice' one of the closest. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9S4xkhuLMsDulUpatv3rCn90LuxI4cBiqa8x1dDD6tfaM5Y4ZqHMn5jEIyIHv8midsAgRAlUNrE5ePJxNDOJhGVMyIPx9cdVVx7qOPx3lKJispLi0xsCUkmC4Ou1xkl7O7ZOEAGpx6s/s4032/IMG_20210925_103028434_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC9S4xkhuLMsDulUpatv3rCn90LuxI4cBiqa8x1dDD6tfaM5Y4ZqHMn5jEIyIHv8midsAgRAlUNrE5ePJxNDOJhGVMyIPx9cdVVx7qOPx3lKJispLi0xsCUkmC4Ou1xkl7O7ZOEAGpx6s/s320/IMG_20210925_103028434_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The display could of course be left unattended but I felt I had a bit too much spare time at Crouch ridge and then not enough here, I had to wait until the public were distracted by an artillery display to sneak off to the ice cream van. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsFzSMj06xmURdd79aBxnoN2PooqpY-FyQ6KrNZVBoRTZAHUmoPc6-sYwZghvVDtqOsLIV9lYY38BEvwRmDDbJMMAi4qRlt1ScGfwsmnZ0DnCiJNinXT8KHfsVLobG7KT94ES24c2qbA/s4032/IMG_20210925_103033938_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRsFzSMj06xmURdd79aBxnoN2PooqpY-FyQ6KrNZVBoRTZAHUmoPc6-sYwZghvVDtqOsLIV9lYY38BEvwRmDDbJMMAi4qRlt1ScGfwsmnZ0DnCiJNinXT8KHfsVLobG7KT94ES24c2qbA/s320/IMG_20210925_103033938_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Whether I will do a display in future is uncertain, and table dependent, our infirmiere/surgeon already runs a grand display when he is with us although I was mindful of how I cover sickness, disease and medicine more than surgery, yet people do love to ask about bits being chopped off.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmec3UN-vjq3Myig5wD9vnbhGNQ1FKwpw8u2HjB3KUdcJrcdMBazkLfMAVFJhCvlaO_DnFj9E_ZqnEszAskTdKF6Y9cRhLQXY79NNp-MTpvWmxdjFLUKw2HSm0vMIYr6v2iDHovRim6Pg/s4032/IMG_20210925_132035279_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmec3UN-vjq3Myig5wD9vnbhGNQ1FKwpw8u2HjB3KUdcJrcdMBazkLfMAVFJhCvlaO_DnFj9E_ZqnEszAskTdKF6Y9cRhLQXY79NNp-MTpvWmxdjFLUKw2HSm0vMIYr6v2iDHovRim6Pg/s320/IMG_20210925_132035279_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was a good crowd, and the chap who owns the estate was very pleased with the weekend with talk of making the event bigger. I'm not quite sure how that would work, make it a multi period event or add something like an evening concert?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVf3EaACT2kxtSKjY8_fU0cM9oHuO2zy9KfQibdCXnLW2zOyp9ilo12CVu9aLnb2IgMaD5PMN8-pC67fZVOkIGQ-lKIKiXs1R8Qd4NsIlqRo9qUekO-vbk6QL0m328qIB_IWWVkuA_qPY/s1080/FB_IMG_1633112353230.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVf3EaACT2kxtSKjY8_fU0cM9oHuO2zy9KfQibdCXnLW2zOyp9ilo12CVu9aLnb2IgMaD5PMN8-pC67fZVOkIGQ-lKIKiXs1R8Qd4NsIlqRo9qUekO-vbk6QL0m328qIB_IWWVkuA_qPY/s320/FB_IMG_1633112353230.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My British counterpart possibly being offered a cup of tea. My other roles of the weekend included Imperial coffee valet and returner of lost cavalry pom poms. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The battles were in a smaller area than normal for Hole park but there were some wooden barricades and a little faux wood to break up the field. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Casualties were taken generously on both sides but as a 'medic' I was quite limited in who I could reach owing to the firing lines, a Napoleonic no man's land. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSwfAWNK2RY5lOw_naJzGMAtnzh74OtICtCmgupqaEhgWrLuQ_POjSK9uhy5y_InnREedpsbK-dap6MyN9YkImSCIMvkx4sjIf84puFAMhXYm3kTFM0hM2Xfmas9Z8wQtedssJWdTGn0U/s1080/FB_IMG_1633036575978.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSwfAWNK2RY5lOw_naJzGMAtnzh74OtICtCmgupqaEhgWrLuQ_POjSK9uhy5y_InnREedpsbK-dap6MyN9YkImSCIMvkx4sjIf84puFAMhXYm3kTFM0hM2Xfmas9Z8wQtedssJWdTGn0U/s320/FB_IMG_1633036575978.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> "Trust me, I'm a doctor."</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0YO46yy-oYHQXDMP7Pdzav5AsCqov5JlpSGZxlo7KkLSPeyd_5cZZmhQ5z8NK0sBfv6oUjaIANyJL68pTDKY6a-voSqDLV_8Cm_jcugSp9aNctqPRQ6IQpYinVot2Ouz3_xrj77oTUc/s960/FB_IMG_1632821489051.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN0YO46yy-oYHQXDMP7Pdzav5AsCqov5JlpSGZxlo7KkLSPeyd_5cZZmhQ5z8NK0sBfv6oUjaIANyJL68pTDKY6a-voSqDLV_8Cm_jcugSp9aNctqPRQ6IQpYinVot2Ouz3_xrj77oTUc/w400-h300/FB_IMG_1632821489051.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunday being a French defeat, the last survivors withdraw with the Eagle! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A novel part of the weekend was the after hours (i.e. no public) skirmish off away from the camp. I was asked to be a secret agent 'Ducos' type character that the British had to capture. If we survived an hour we could make it back to the French camp.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There were eight of us in a wood, and two cavalry, just outside and I decided if the enemy came from the front, half of us should fire and retire and hopefully lure the British into an ambush by the second half. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After about fifteen minutes of suspense we heard the British band playing and assumed the sound was carrying from the camp as surely our opposing force would be about ten riflemen? They weren't going to have a band playing! but soon the sound was clearly coming in our direction. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our piquet line started firing at enemy in the trees as the British cavalry met ours.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Soon I had to fall back and seek shelter, with my attached guard, Simon. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The cavalry met again near us and it was a memorable sight to see light cavalry fighting amid the trees. The Brits rode away but may have seen us.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Suddenly Brits seemed to be everywhere and running round the top of the wood I got collared. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dhZ6C9Ehdpeje8CFM0NnKmMBlZdMuT0YNDFiFxM42cfGmCF8cMRPeRmCnqg-m_-mnRYuaBpsjwsK0IIZ1OTCgBMfqnWkxK7gySnu0DAs1jSPI9jwHLhyphenhyphentCLanjuSvL-wZIxQVvRufmE/s960/FB_IMG_1632768903780.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3dhZ6C9Ehdpeje8CFM0NnKmMBlZdMuT0YNDFiFxM42cfGmCF8cMRPeRmCnqg-m_-mnRYuaBpsjwsK0IIZ1OTCgBMfqnWkxK7gySnu0DAs1jSPI9jwHLhyphenhyphentCLanjuSvL-wZIxQVvRufmE/w400-h300/FB_IMG_1632768903780.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Crikey. No wonder our plan floundered. The Brits had about twelve riflemen, 3 officers, twenty redcoats, two cavalry and a cannon and crew! I suspect they had just assigned a brigade to it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9RO2ha9JqeOhy0eDIZLjAxeyujBuIj2XXRfimfm5RyWDjqqxp2XQmpJwgaT4dnEH6vtRUVo4Z6oCaieOhfU8pbgiY-TTh3oOy12HmAq7PplkCtq3r5-bKNpXFE8CwBS2NAYxcT0dhM0/s4032/IMG_20210925_170829756_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9RO2ha9JqeOhy0eDIZLjAxeyujBuIj2XXRfimfm5RyWDjqqxp2XQmpJwgaT4dnEH6vtRUVo4Z6oCaieOhfU8pbgiY-TTh3oOy12HmAq7PplkCtq3r5-bKNpXFE8CwBS2NAYxcT0dhM0/s320/IMG_20210925_170829756_HDR.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Enemy observation balloon?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I certainly don't think it was a deliberate mismatch as I heard the British continue to look for 'the rest of us' after we had been disposed of.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I then laid on the comedy as it was decided I was such a rascal that I would be shot. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I obliged by walking away, then just before the order to fire was given collapsed into the long grass, then ran away to the left.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No one gave chase but on another order to fire I collapsed into the long grass and threw my hat into the air. Then again lying on my back with one leg briefly being lifted up that was seen as my death throes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLLiEH89f2JMcbZE9skof4ra2-DADxX9g3T6d_lIVgimY_x8F04eUAg5O59qUOHfL4OHWmQ8wrYlPYGk4xe73UHMdKTbD1YzYs8KbTNZ9aFKaqI2ZZ-Z29PJ8VCTF95fdsIABe-OaHzM/s960/FB_IMG_1632738742616.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="704" data-original-width="960" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxLLiEH89f2JMcbZE9skof4ra2-DADxX9g3T6d_lIVgimY_x8F04eUAg5O59qUOHfL4OHWmQ8wrYlPYGk4xe73UHMdKTbD1YzYs8KbTNZ9aFKaqI2ZZ-Z29PJ8VCTF95fdsIABe-OaHzM/s320/FB_IMG_1632738742616.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Once again my trousers died, both flap buttons! I think an evening of fine dinning and a regency dance is more their thing... Three days in camp and on battlefields is beyond them. I intend to sew the whole area shut with strong thread. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZjg4PQr26ghvpRkcSWi0621oY-AEmrlso3iTmVNXg7wbtWBWvBRpbXYtRNPv3cGCiapzcLCXu1c4kz8QdAeQdKrZzSl-kSVvIsuj3xrQjJzWa4CylXlu3leO9vR5AsAWH8nHfgCS1bk/s960/FB_IMG_1632738563428.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="518" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZjg4PQr26ghvpRkcSWi0621oY-AEmrlso3iTmVNXg7wbtWBWvBRpbXYtRNPv3cGCiapzcLCXu1c4kz8QdAeQdKrZzSl-kSVvIsuj3xrQjJzWa4CylXlu3leO9vR5AsAWH8nHfgCS1bk/s320/FB_IMG_1632738563428.jpg" width="173" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Make Britain French again! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGlkDSWl3uMKHNcXwwhGLqbbE4Yxtfaz-sT_Js653t_8PmWPosfQVRP4MphogCH6AkG1A3PwIzBWR-zPoZyJGjEBenY6kqhzt12ax9NGImafSNcCQsXoozKVEmJ5BApDZNu219OOHlc0/s1080/FB_IMG_1633112302422.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGlkDSWl3uMKHNcXwwhGLqbbE4Yxtfaz-sT_Js653t_8PmWPosfQVRP4MphogCH6AkG1A3PwIzBWR-zPoZyJGjEBenY6kqhzt12ax9NGImafSNcCQsXoozKVEmJ5BApDZNu219OOHlc0/w400-h266/FB_IMG_1633112302422.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The picture above, and indeed all the really good, high definition ones, are by Charlie Richards of Hushpuppy productions. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And so it was the end of a season, three events, all good ones. The tea and biscuits grandeur of Stanstead house, the windswept rise of Crouch ridge and the estuary and the lively timetable of Holepark with it's dashing horsemen and host of friendly faces. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Who knows what the future brings? It would be niiiice to see some of our continental comrades next year, small scale events have been going ahead but only within their own borders. So many events (not just reenactment) have been postponed twice that maybe it will be a busy year, third time lucky.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The parsnip survived the weekend. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9nImNGkSW0t-4bX_y328lz83axQGFnQfG7QMQvih9op_LZdHSA6sMzWkFdDBrxWT3u2D6WDhlKPu6hWNn7SArAubzC0nhKblqDDLxzlxCMjH5ePib-VtCgRF578Fmd4oSYV1ge6tFRw/s4032/IMG_20210925_082117754.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE9nImNGkSW0t-4bX_y328lz83axQGFnQfG7QMQvih9op_LZdHSA6sMzWkFdDBrxWT3u2D6WDhlKPu6hWNn7SArAubzC0nhKblqDDLxzlxCMjH5ePib-VtCgRF578Fmd4oSYV1ge6tFRw/s320/IMG_20210925_082117754.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> See you on the other side! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-54134908144675958442021-07-27T04:41:00.000-07:002021-07-27T04:41:07.893-07:00Crouch ridge<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stanstead was a fine start to a season but the first big Napoleonic association event was here, in Essex, at Crouch ridge. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was a modest turnout and everyone had taken a covid test and it was outdoors. Sadly pingmageddon had hit some units, one after a training event took down most of the regiment. The French would outnumber the British for a change.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIr9Klvam-QbXKc5GKvdt1lUEBflzpl1SuZexnuVQttpnuXrq1gpPEtAEOCaabYrfaIejiHTvDP8TaApAnj1A2FZ9AM8osfGGQIB1wM_Jkrhfvf3SID0JqfkbT37ZB7LFy6Dp8uNkGx7g/s4032/IMG_20210724_070020393.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIr9Klvam-QbXKc5GKvdt1lUEBflzpl1SuZexnuVQttpnuXrq1gpPEtAEOCaabYrfaIejiHTvDP8TaApAnj1A2FZ9AM8osfGGQIB1wM_Jkrhfvf3SID0JqfkbT37ZB7LFy6Dp8uNkGx7g/s320/IMG_20210724_070020393.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>It started off wet but the wizard J'Ohn used fire magic to stop the rain by ten o'clock, it worked bar a couple of very brief showers.</div><div>He would also summon me a pint when the beer tent.. well, beer gazebo.. proved to only take cash! I know we dress like people from a previous age but....</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeir9ecSOg4-gSLK27CY7YzGkVJDJrrm900xBP6KtiRLB0DF9iq1K59DsaJZxUm87U177WJ8Lugp-edV-BgmsDMEA9vVAqv1_ohOdjjGiyqkYTsoiK4dyMfNBuAxQ8gIXYlGYeHBh-_5c/s4032/IMG_20210724_162955020_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeir9ecSOg4-gSLK27CY7YzGkVJDJrrm900xBP6KtiRLB0DF9iq1K59DsaJZxUm87U177WJ8Lugp-edV-BgmsDMEA9vVAqv1_ohOdjjGiyqkYTsoiK4dyMfNBuAxQ8gIXYlGYeHBh-_5c/s320/IMG_20210724_162955020_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div> Top of the ridge looking down to the estuary of the river crouch, of all the places the French might have been driven into by bad weather... It was fortunately right on a vineyard! </div><div><br /></div><div>I would be joined in medical matters by the infirmiere, Tony, who is a great showman with a display of medical tools, bones, leeches and severed limbs strewn about. We came to a good pair up where he is the surgeon's assistant who learnt everything in the field and has stepped up as the surgeon is.. missing. Whilst I am the university taught Doctor who deals more with sickness, disease and everyday ailments (Although see below). </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEPPgw6InmzTioSRYjwcYveSRjmbMaL2T3lrcp2wSUFfErQkEO_uJDWB4tAyHDjBN4aNasWFCwyE-y4mRv031tAuWS0IgsP8lTzGyC_9AvUB2sZ9HgGlIwCcodHqRzX1U9o9RSd9TBw-s/s4032/IMG_20210724_122747600_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEPPgw6InmzTioSRYjwcYveSRjmbMaL2T3lrcp2wSUFfErQkEO_uJDWB4tAyHDjBN4aNasWFCwyE-y4mRv031tAuWS0IgsP8lTzGyC_9AvUB2sZ9HgGlIwCcodHqRzX1U9o9RSd9TBw-s/s320/IMG_20210724_122747600_HDR.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I must confess I enjoyed sitting In the Imperial tent with Napoleon and a couple of staff and having a glass of wine, a lunch time tipple, but I will ALWAYS remember that I fought barefoot in my youth in the muddy fields of Valmy! <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72G2GoD7zSj-lnX1hUVJ5BVaGTQ-jSqPqB0iR2s8wDfrZA40YwaJllnABI_j8BuIP_7COSmMBux9gHA3-dBJTuP1O_wzMTuaQl0V3XSWCagE4BDNXb34r6Jyuxfrv9oYGCu7uEvrtlVw/s288/download+%25281%2529.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="175" data-original-width="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72G2GoD7zSj-lnX1hUVJ5BVaGTQ-jSqPqB0iR2s8wDfrZA40YwaJllnABI_j8BuIP_7COSmMBux9gHA3-dBJTuP1O_wzMTuaQl0V3XSWCagE4BDNXb34r6Jyuxfrv9oYGCu7uEvrtlVw/s0/download+%25281%2529.jpeg" /></a></div><div>Me, second rank, 37th man in from the right. <br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivPyzbwdVpgsR0UxgzmkBI0wW3l_Vt2OJ1KmvxaNj8tlPZEeYKy0-UkoXpBV7itsrrdrECQP__jnE3TvGSTKufmtT3VIhwQTq5hSMtTbgR8w1icSmTg6g1wSJj_Xc4ZB9h4sKKGZy1b2U/s4032/IMG_20210724_141211475_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivPyzbwdVpgsR0UxgzmkBI0wW3l_Vt2OJ1KmvxaNj8tlPZEeYKy0-UkoXpBV7itsrrdrECQP__jnE3TvGSTKufmtT3VIhwQTq5hSMtTbgR8w1icSmTg6g1wSJj_Xc4ZB9h4sKKGZy1b2U/s320/IMG_20210724_141211475_HDR.jpg" /></a></div>The enemy approach from the camp, we must steel ourselves for the fight! It apparently looked great with the French appearing from nowhere on the ridge.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxl2cjEzK7BwwZstGJEGWYw3dPbAKum20r93tDIPHV379dxssL9ZNFGhMFhTPHIFy2w4FhOWuorVDFxaTUBXvOaHzs0teMwY6LYeDEKKHODusg7xbMH2Nwpumn00_FMyRV7fzHwK6GIc/s960/FB_IMG_1627312089207.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="488" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLxl2cjEzK7BwwZstGJEGWYw3dPbAKum20r93tDIPHV379dxssL9ZNFGhMFhTPHIFy2w4FhOWuorVDFxaTUBXvOaHzs0teMwY6LYeDEKKHODusg7xbMH2Nwpumn00_FMyRV7fzHwK6GIc/s320/FB_IMG_1627312089207.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Both days battles went really well (bar some confusion after a unit decided it would die and disrupt the rough plan on day one). The downward slope meant the French could come down into a natural amphitheatre. Spliting into two main groups we could advance in a pincer movement down to the British and now we have the 2eme as a group of dedicated skirmishers they can contain the usual interference from the inevitable riflemen. </div><div><br /></div><div> Said troops tried to get behind us on day two by going into the field but this was unfortunately off limits as a farmers field. Our officer is a great leader who did of course rise from being a trooper "Oi, get out of the f*cking field. It's not ours.... Chris, tell them to Fu*k off!" </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCY-ZGHiLVIMgpvptpAn_lvsAJlXq0z9WpgXF4LIuZ87cwubhq1xpir7JMfiCtZ8YogEuTkC7QpLNugGbUGC7HIIUvmhTqiKZettJ4G7OpMFYNxfNputnisADWdXUB0LAqK5Mow4PtcEo/s4032/IMG_20210724_140210788.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCY-ZGHiLVIMgpvptpAn_lvsAJlXq0z9WpgXF4LIuZ87cwubhq1xpir7JMfiCtZ8YogEuTkC7QpLNugGbUGC7HIIUvmhTqiKZettJ4G7OpMFYNxfNputnisADWdXUB0LAqK5Mow4PtcEo/s320/IMG_20210724_140210788.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div>In the second battle I got to draw my sword to stand by the Eagle as the unit moved a little further away. Shortly after that three of the 60th rifles tried to charge the flank and I found myself in hand to hand combat, cutting a greenjacket down. Then moments later trying to treat his wound, at least I already knew where it was. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXJbUOo7Sp6sbjhytVHZGidjyBzl2bYp-W57O6-goPr7gQpBZAVXrsGSGrACtyS7VkAQR02Iuy2IDR1xbVYDYEgYvbuAqu203GkQqrf1sXc5Comny1Qp9_5T84IvGDkPGSYtKkh_blEs/s960/FB_IMG_1627312112395.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="607" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXJbUOo7Sp6sbjhytVHZGidjyBzl2bYp-W57O6-goPr7gQpBZAVXrsGSGrACtyS7VkAQR02Iuy2IDR1xbVYDYEgYvbuAqu203GkQqrf1sXc5Comny1Qp9_5T84IvGDkPGSYtKkh_blEs/s320/FB_IMG_1627312112395.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> The dead and wounded in the tall grass receive assorted treatments.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimz28sT3VBcT9aIcl_6A1OSr_cqmElcMlAFRHFVT_HCU8nOcAMH8mzMizFDv5L6nLw_uCd-ivKgD0ZlSAiYlfNY9gLR7D6oNfxQ8IjsKb-EPdCsTEqTpzcc5xFueSPiae5zf-Yg3GeTN4/s960/FB_IMG_1627294605072.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimz28sT3VBcT9aIcl_6A1OSr_cqmElcMlAFRHFVT_HCU8nOcAMH8mzMizFDv5L6nLw_uCd-ivKgD0ZlSAiYlfNY9gLR7D6oNfxQ8IjsKb-EPdCsTEqTpzcc5xFueSPiae5zf-Yg3GeTN4/s320/FB_IMG_1627294605072.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> Rocket troupe! <div><br /></div><div>Only moments after getting back a very keen member of public started plying me with questions, until my voice started to dry out, but it was still enjoyable to see someone so intrigued by our display and also as an Essex man, he became open to the idea that the French/Napoleon did bring some good changes to Europe and the Brits were not the avenging angels at all. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div>One casualty of the second day was my fall front trousers (so called because of a square flap at the front), literally as the 'assemblé' was sounded for the battle I had a wardrobe malfunction, the second of my buttons decided to give up and I had to improvise with a length of bandage being tied around my waist. War is very hard on the trousers. </div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>I have over a month to sort that out as the next event isn't until September at Fort Amherst, pings nonwithstanding.</div><div><br /></div><div>Vive L'emporeur!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzMODCC6ZXl51lnfSStXJFIRoirHVnNibVfM7zXdCvTAYFkbVtNWIo3gq5DxIuRI22jm2-dcW-2-vRMIRo7HCGRw-hGi4NRWCCgthQw3z24uo_-rdURDqXRiAhboTlAYPNY-kUnKaO3S0/s1080/FB_IMG_1627335799545.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzMODCC6ZXl51lnfSStXJFIRoirHVnNibVfM7zXdCvTAYFkbVtNWIo3gq5DxIuRI22jm2-dcW-2-vRMIRo7HCGRw-hGi4NRWCCgthQw3z24uo_-rdURDqXRiAhboTlAYPNY-kUnKaO3S0/s320/FB_IMG_1627335799545.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-14162380531883060342021-07-15T14:13:00.000-07:002021-07-15T14:13:07.037-07:00Stanstead park <p> After nearly two years since the last event.. green lights have been given to several shows.. this being the first, hosted by the light dragoons. </p><p>It was at Stanstead park, a country house with connections to Lord Ponsonby, the cavalry commander killed at Waterloo. It was the estates first open day since covid too.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQZUkF3AP5gig-umj0aIpnZilbce3FDmPswRTUm1MVpQMCelrSrf3r7TIWOGbNKdSBwwSEaz4gUbyrvLfO4bmXlNl-ggVbXMZ4RxiHtngC9iEWKJMZ1PE-ad9Nw3uvSGvhcqd2aQgi2s/s4032/IMG_20210711_105326111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQZUkF3AP5gig-umj0aIpnZilbce3FDmPswRTUm1MVpQMCelrSrf3r7TIWOGbNKdSBwwSEaz4gUbyrvLfO4bmXlNl-ggVbXMZ4RxiHtngC9iEWKJMZ1PE-ad9Nw3uvSGvhcqd2aQgi2s/s320/IMG_20210711_105326111.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>It would be my debut as a Westphalian doctor attached to the French brigade, after a few years of pondering a role where drill is not required. It was perhaps apt that I nearly had to leave the house in a cloak after struggling to get a coat on, but just managed amidst gnashing of teeth. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsJ-Dw5Cq-_78Xb5B0AZX_vbMm5k9_DEjSeEq6THDZbuzIY6oiRBGbUbrdtpiuvYtuv0-ZMLnY3ntzmtIBdpPGWrxqcPME7O_wLmwC-juC0YrjEaUG-sXOP0GsIXjrpQY3yRs6NPr82g/s4032/IMG_20210710_120319224_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsJ-Dw5Cq-_78Xb5B0AZX_vbMm5k9_DEjSeEq6THDZbuzIY6oiRBGbUbrdtpiuvYtuv0-ZMLnY3ntzmtIBdpPGWrxqcPME7O_wLmwC-juC0YrjEaUG-sXOP0GsIXjrpQY3yRs6NPr82g/s320/IMG_20210710_120319224_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>After so long it was amazing how quickly old habits and routines re-asserted themselves with everyone.</div><div>The troops marched out to go through the moves and I remained to look after the camp with a few other non-soldats.</div><div><br /><div>I wanted to champion the age as one of medical improvements and the beginning of the modern era... But engaging with the public I soon had to resort to humorous opening lines "Vaccinations here, your choice of knife." *Holds up small scalpel or fairly large curved knife* or just (still holding scalpel) "Have you had your vaccinations?" </div><div> People often know about Edward Jenner and it's a quick jump to mentioning the Napoleonic connection. The two met and Napoleon gave him a medal to recognise his scientific achievements. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had expected more of a partisan crowd given that it was a very 'British' occasion, with cricket, the band of the Grenadier guards and the looming football game but surprisingly there were relatively few 'French jokes'. </div><div><br /></div><div>The first modest battle.. a brief clash of cavalry then our two French infantry units versus two British. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJ6bnV8fKIv0Qrjs7jALro02Ew3wP4EAtuPL0hL5yrkBS4S_IbG2vE0Xb_Fe7WjruHM6_JX4_wn7_z9blkCbpg63JJpz7QkcWRlVr7lv77EkFm6drCOVOHyEqQrxIsv4LNOotZbzb-Tw/s960/FB_IMG_1626092991662.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJ6bnV8fKIv0Qrjs7jALro02Ew3wP4EAtuPL0hL5yrkBS4S_IbG2vE0Xb_Fe7WjruHM6_JX4_wn7_z9blkCbpg63JJpz7QkcWRlVr7lv77EkFm6drCOVOHyEqQrxIsv4LNOotZbzb-Tw/s320/FB_IMG_1626092991662.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>My plan was to dash to casualties, check they were not dead (and soon started asking if they wanted to stay dead, which was most often answered with a yes).. and apply my tourniquet with it's corkscrew tightening device which I hoped looked intriguing, then reveal a clean bandage before swapping it out for a bloody one. I may even start hiding one up my sleeve for some sleight of hand action.</div><div><br /></div><div>It went pretty much as intended except I found the straps needed tightening as arms are deceptively narrow. </div><div>The French were meant to win but apparently no one told the British and there is a point where someone has to give or it all looks a bit silly as no one is dying/running away. </div><div>This was put right on day two when the British were actually defeated.. on a Sunday!</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3XvYmdmeHwqPJzDrvGbo48U8_nT_svyf-xhCrL3YCSwlLBptsUdYZl2RpPuKJdSZWMWF9fJxtz4sCdWunQIrnfJWYmRRSiiud0F3aI_r91nlzTHfiQk1JC4U1HqW3yk9Ff5EAZ_ZQ8VY/s4032/IMG_20210710_210602695.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3XvYmdmeHwqPJzDrvGbo48U8_nT_svyf-xhCrL3YCSwlLBptsUdYZl2RpPuKJdSZWMWF9fJxtz4sCdWunQIrnfJWYmRRSiiud0F3aI_r91nlzTHfiQk1JC4U1HqW3yk9Ff5EAZ_ZQ8VY/s320/IMG_20210710_210602695.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div> The sophistication of reenactment.<br /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuLF0rLfBtQFIp8iFi-F34_uRgca3dlTLFd6z7sZQXd8BOJ2sDV51dt9GDeqjReqz69I78TLAG1LD-xVLMXjg9DKOaDzwCD1HX27DHuGB99KtOWKIPWHMh_mHWzSelKWbEAZ_BD6PKzY/s4032/IMG_20210710_202623587_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuLF0rLfBtQFIp8iFi-F34_uRgca3dlTLFd6z7sZQXd8BOJ2sDV51dt9GDeqjReqz69I78TLAG1LD-xVLMXjg9DKOaDzwCD1HX27DHuGB99KtOWKIPWHMh_mHWzSelKWbEAZ_BD6PKzY/s320/IMG_20210710_202623587_HDR.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div> Er.... yes. </div><div><br /></div><div>How was the experience of being a Doctor compared to a fusilier? </div><div>I had a bit more time on my hands but then this was often taken with talking to people by a small display of medicines and paraphernalia. </div><div>I felt I didn't see as much of my comrades as usual, the comraderie is more apparent when you're marching and fighting together, and firing a well loaded musket is always satisfyingly.</div><div>But the freer reign was also pleasant at times and a British officer even bought me a drink! </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPr6MB5pUzeNELxO8VOfXPNhk08UMOGzPUs5IQF_bX0y8zbY8-nMq_Hwmzs9UG36FSs5mieIaz1scPige08udqBvhzjXDqmGE50OWA17a0aNMaivohRw36V4_Tgce56eXG9afNTQJ_ntg/s4032/IMG_20210711_081353140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPr6MB5pUzeNELxO8VOfXPNhk08UMOGzPUs5IQF_bX0y8zbY8-nMq_Hwmzs9UG36FSs5mieIaz1scPige08udqBvhzjXDqmGE50OWA17a0aNMaivohRw36V4_Tgce56eXG9afNTQJ_ntg/s320/IMG_20210711_081353140.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As with many events at country houses I got to enjoy a stroll around the grounds before the general public were about. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwL2xX3IMxY0oxxqiyOu2kXWM72saOxpCn93FRfi9T4fwPniArSmOPbGPBlpEt8gwhZVOJhnBZlttYcdgwADZCNIRxalj5k7WiU23Lw6zTMKALnBr31TBUM8f3_TuNYNk4lyjnK4xptE/s4032/IMG_20210711_111025401_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwL2xX3IMxY0oxxqiyOu2kXWM72saOxpCn93FRfi9T4fwPniArSmOPbGPBlpEt8gwhZVOJhnBZlttYcdgwADZCNIRxalj5k7WiU23Lw6zTMKALnBr31TBUM8f3_TuNYNk4lyjnK4xptE/s320/IMG_20210711_111025401_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>An enjoyable weekend, only a bit wet to start off with, and it looks highly likely that a bigger event will be held there next year. </div><div>..and speaking of bigger events it is only a little over a week to Crouch ridge, Essex, where Napoleon and a ship full of French troops have been blown ashore to be confronted near the estuary where the ships are being repaired.. </div><div><br /></div><div>Watch this space!</div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPgP3d36wNFqNCCQ6wva1oqZ4eFj9weHFBmC7j0eQJNbTCTsVk3TZRJogOr1PNi9IWgoBSMWH_xRzsMY2N8hnrEh8JFr6pV5bRzkQ_PELIlDpGmbqTSlVG8oliMO-tWjcpzKOAL2hXdaE/s1080/FB_IMG_1626075322046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="665" data-original-width="1080" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPgP3d36wNFqNCCQ6wva1oqZ4eFj9weHFBmC7j0eQJNbTCTsVk3TZRJogOr1PNi9IWgoBSMWH_xRzsMY2N8hnrEh8JFr6pV5bRzkQ_PELIlDpGmbqTSlVG8oliMO-tWjcpzKOAL2hXdaE/s320/FB_IMG_1626075322046.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div></div>Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-2145016437474176442020-09-25T01:54:00.000-07:002020-09-25T01:54:08.215-07:002020; CANCELLED.<p><br /></p><p><b><span style="font-family: helvetica; font-size: large;"> CANCELLED.</span></b></p><p>So for reenactment 2020 was pretty much a non event.</p><p>For the optimistic it went 'Maybe August will be okay.. September? October?. Oh dear.'</p><p>I did plan on going to Austerlitz at the very end of November in Czechia (as the former Czech republic is apparently now known) but first UK travellers were banned, Then it was okay, then quarantine was imposed and unlikely undone in time so I cut my loses, with both sadness and relief, it is not a great time to be mixing it up and expected attendance at the event (not including public) had gone from 1000 to 3000 as event starved reenactors saw a big date that might be actually happening. At this moment I don't know if it still will. </p><p>At the time of writing I have my doubts about 2021, it's like we've gone back to March in terms of rising infection numbers, international travel has ground to a halt again for many places unless you want to spend a fortnight each side of your trip in quarantine. I have heard the 200 years since the death of Napoleon event in St Helena has already been pulled.</p><p>How have we coped!? Some folk had zoom meetings, with most participants kitted up, some camped out in their own gardens particularly to mark big cancelled events like Waterloo. I only did a few zooms during lockdown, I find the stop - start -whose - talking? lack of social cues thing rather awkward. </p><p>Some concentrated on making or researching kit and equipment for next year... See more below..</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitgsJl6aEnt_eeQwl7c0p6ZIC212WeO5XfgoCMvEfwG0lkxi67L0c5_CqjPIFSLd2F9TL47Epl939GMLQP62HAFfVPUhQ-7aVwWQ8WShYqoiXw4U2ULMsBTSiqWUEPt72SxPOF7JeWxtk/s3264/IMG_20200704_183239091.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="1632" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitgsJl6aEnt_eeQwl7c0p6ZIC212WeO5XfgoCMvEfwG0lkxi67L0c5_CqjPIFSLd2F9TL47Epl939GMLQP62HAFfVPUhQ-7aVwWQ8WShYqoiXw4U2ULMsBTSiqWUEPt72SxPOF7JeWxtk/w200-h400/IMG_20200704_183239091.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p>Me at virtual Bretten 2020. Just like it but without the crowds of people taking part, parades, (more than one) beer, food, markets, music, fireworks, and properly seeing friends in person, and not being in Baden-Württemberg. </p><p>Friends. That is the main loss, none of my reenactment friends are local. Every year it's great to catch up and enjoy the social side of things. </p><p>The closest I got to camping out was an overnight cycling excursion on the south downs with a fair amount of Napoleonic gear for bedding and wearing a flouncy shirt.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCdlAHrA7y5Dp1zrIBKTlObx4upThh7Qbmg3sKc3d_eFLiLtGdhFmD49l8sVaoGAnRIa8Cm9wSxoDGR2vEArRisp237zA6wvaAnK9O9P6Uie6ahjR9NHoEVqjpFfYKjhX28NKIcYHS5M/s4032/IMG_20200805_182524045.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQCdlAHrA7y5Dp1zrIBKTlObx4upThh7Qbmg3sKc3d_eFLiLtGdhFmD49l8sVaoGAnRIa8Cm9wSxoDGR2vEArRisp237zA6wvaAnK9O9P6Uie6ahjR9NHoEVqjpFfYKjhX28NKIcYHS5M/w400-h300/IMG_20200805_182524045.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>In the brief glimmer of improved times there were actually a few events, one with redcoats and jacobites and one with Vikings that I know of, but the public were limited and at social distancing range and generally given a one way system to wander around the event. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUg4_Ehyphenhyphen23ctfIgfWzkkNzpZNeo1j2_zaIQrMJIhhnozdEe6Pe1rZpyveYMFOcKAdKdQWKS3W4-1hyM1rmY-2PRyuhab50ikhMLhheBa6ULavLi3n_fOzaE0CnN9jlzWWv9A-l607m_pc/s1440/FB_IMG_1600969543533.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1078" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUg4_Ehyphenhyphen23ctfIgfWzkkNzpZNeo1j2_zaIQrMJIhhnozdEe6Pe1rZpyveYMFOcKAdKdQWKS3W4-1hyM1rmY-2PRyuhab50ikhMLhheBa6ULavLi3n_fOzaE0CnN9jlzWWv9A-l607m_pc/w299-h400/FB_IMG_1600969543533.jpg" width="299" /></a></div><br /><p>My own research has been in Napoleonic medical matters, much is made of the gruesome surgery of the day and that has been a part but I have mainly concentrated on the role of Doctors, not surgeons, so disease more than wounds although being generally overwhelmed by casualties most army doctors may well have had to roll up their sleeves and join in the bandaging, cutting and sawing.</p><p>If covid had come along in 1810.. It probably would not be recognised except as just another fever, such was the terrible mortality rate to sickness that we should all be thankful that covid isn't a patch on typhus or Smallpox which killed millions. Typhus killed more French soldiers in late 1806 Then the battle of Austerlitz itself due to the perfect storm of malnourished men being packed together in squalid conditions, for we know now that it is spread by tiks and parasites from one warm body to another. </p><p>Stop there! This is not a talk on contagions. Where was I? </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPlou5axhhfP-NcoXWWq9LugqB2oxhISyt7ATojcVhWOudSGoAtbAGKYRkzEZ52eqMf-LZXH7_3z3tbPbpaNXvT4mVV0uY5Ihs-mChum0TEGd9ZnDWFHf_slQeIZ0auK_5_2usiZRPDVY/s4032/IMG_20200727_134416166.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPlou5axhhfP-NcoXWWq9LugqB2oxhISyt7ATojcVhWOudSGoAtbAGKYRkzEZ52eqMf-LZXH7_3z3tbPbpaNXvT4mVV0uY5Ihs-mChum0TEGd9ZnDWFHf_slQeIZ0auK_5_2usiZRPDVY/w400-h300/IMG_20200727_134416166.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>So what of 2021? We will just have to see how the winter goes and of course hope for a vaccine.</p><p> One suggestion has been more events without the public, which are more common in France, where to my observation it seems events are either over civilised with big hats at chateaux on what I call the champagne circuit or else it's out in the wilds stomping through the countryside, hoping to find some water. Here in the UK most events seem to be a partnership between the given reenactment society and some estate/museum/landlord who hosts the event in return for punters paying at the door. </p><p>Smaller events like the two mentioned above could be a template, keeping visitors in their bubbles, but a bigger area for viewing a battle would be needed, possibly having spectators on three sides instead of one to spread them out. </p><p>But what of the troops themselves? In an age where soldiers fought shoulder to shoulder could you get away with everyone in skirmish order? Or trust in declarations of not having symptoms? The trouble is you don't always know if you've got it until the symptoms come out. Maybe have a camp site re-enacting a camp site where cholera is present and where the chief medical officer is a contagionists (The contemporary term for those who believed in the theory of human contagion versus the anticontagionists) with historically correct face coverings and precautions in place. Maybe! </p><p><br /></p><p>Who knows, maybe in 2120 people will be re-enacting the covid years. </p><p>Ciao for now.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipEyBi-6JvBCSEF0V2tnpXGE05lOajb4VqxwIRuP8Wfz4DbyEwmTM35XDW08zzenn5lDKYXSM2bA2qbQsqGL4vRta81Qa2OA-RGI_uKFiE2nvYPKTaOWSKRld56NIsDFJcuICobtiDMSw/s3264/IMG_20200328_214123290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3264" data-original-width="2448" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipEyBi-6JvBCSEF0V2tnpXGE05lOajb4VqxwIRuP8Wfz4DbyEwmTM35XDW08zzenn5lDKYXSM2bA2qbQsqGL4vRta81Qa2OA-RGI_uKFiE2nvYPKTaOWSKRld56NIsDFJcuICobtiDMSw/s320/IMG_20200328_214123290.jpg" /></a></div><br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-70892999225786537602019-10-01T01:11:00.000-07:002019-10-01T01:16:47.040-07:00To the Netherlands in a big hat.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Wuustwezel! (Vurst-veezel) just up the road from Hoogstraaten In deepest Belgium. Promised another fantastic event from Ron Van Dyck.<br />
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As the last huzzah of the year, with not many 45eme going and me wanting to give drill/Musketry a rest for the reasons put in the previous post I pondered what I could go as..<br />
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Journalist maybe? But I rather wanted to be in the battles which looked like they'd be interesting, with cavalry, barricades and pyros.. too good to be in a role where I mainly kneel down and fail to finish drawing anything. Hey, stand still!<br />
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I had Austrian officers kit I'd never made use of, on the French side it was passibly close to the Westphalian eighth regiment but without epaulettes and with the blue collar somewhat faded.. but with a rainy weekend predicted I'd just wear a greatcoat over it.<br />
Narrative wise I was an orphan, the flotsam and jetsam of the eighth regiment disbanded after Leipzig. I'd never met/heard of anyone reenacting the Westphalian army. So one of the first things I was told on arrival was 'Oooh there's another Westphalian over there!'<br />
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Earlier it was up to London to stay with good friends then a Channel tunnel crossing and drive with three reenactors in a mini, which proved a bit longer than predicted. *Understatement* and the closer we got the worse the rain.. fortunately other than raining on the parade it was mainly in the early hours/morning.<br />
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The battlefield, both sides of the tree lined path, which had a nice ditch for skirmishers to fire from and us to leap across in retreat.<br />
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Wuustwezel by night, the church is the local landmark which we passed on the way to a/the restaurant, a change from bread and cheese.<br />
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As officer without portfolio I felt I had to balance the impression of being useful with retaining an air of dignity. The air of dignity was probably more important and when I took a place on the far left as our unit lined up with the rest of the French army it transpired a Caporal was meant to take this place as guide a gauche. so I smartly took a step forward.. only to find myself one pace in front of the entire army, I couldn't really push back through so turned on my heels and marched along the front of half the army to get one end and walk back to just behind where I'd started. I think it worked.<br />
By the end of the weekend myself and this corporal had a great rapport for me stepping out of his way just as he was two paces from it.<br />
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The strangest thing about the role was in my mind I was about nineteen, I was the expendible ensign from Sharpe, even if other officers were about the same age they were the veterans who could doubtless order three platoons to do three different things at once, I mainly just stabbed people.<br />
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And stab people I did on the Sunday, or rather cut at them in telegraphed slow motion.<br />
Having not done much on Saturday I felt I might as well assist against any close assaults including to neighbouring units, and the soldiers were willingly defeated, indeed a theme of the weekend was when a unit knew it was to lose, especially the Prussians and Dutch they would go down like nine pins. One volley was comically effective in turning nearly a whole unit into a heap of groaning bodies.<br />
It was a really good natured event.<br />
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I had fully planned to die after falling back to the barricades but after one big attack from the allies the Dutch commanding officer called for a parley, and one senior and one junior officer appeared in no man's land, our General strode out to meet them, on his own? Should he not also be flanked by an attending officer for the sake of etiquette and moral support? I found myself as ADC, not that any ADCing was required.<br />
I thought we might yet refuse to surrender, but a truce was agreed, there would be no final assault. I would live!<br />
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It was then straight from the battle to the camp, a flurry of hugs and handshakes, and to the car for a quick get away!<br />
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And so the year ends. The possibility of an event in Corsica was broached and some talk about Russia! Mental calender is already filling up. I just need to win the lottery and retire to it full time (tough when you only do the lottery about twice a year).<br />
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I feel 2020 is going to see some big events!<br />
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-89427683954631322532019-09-16T09:17:00.001-07:002019-09-16T09:55:30.135-07:00A lighter shade of bleu...Way back in the spring of 2018 Quatra Bras was my first event of the year after a winter where my shoulder had 'frozen'. The muscle plate was like stiff, scarred leather but the general prognosis was of getting better after two, or three years, hopefully, maybe.<br />
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The foggy nights in Belgium that weekend didn't help and when we started doing drill I pondered if I should take up another role. I simply couldn't make all the shapes.<br />
But it wasn't so bad at later events, and I soldiered on, until drill at Cheriton suddenly agitated something.<br />
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What to do? Of course we do this for enjoyment, my officer was first to point that out, if someone can't do something, nevermind. It's a hobby.<br />
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But at Quatra Bras after that drill we had been by the roadside when the Marshal had appeared, quickly we drew together and presented arms! The salute. Except I had a twinge in my shoulder and transferred the weight to my other hand for a moment or two.<br />
Click. A picture later appeared on Facebook deriding the unit for not saluting properly. Of course I'd like to get that guy's head and crack it against a table until it also hurt, but he will never know that there was a reason for me holding my musket like that. I don't know what his problem with the rest of the unit was, maybe his protractor was stuck up his arse and he couldn't measure the angles properly, or maybe he was upset that he had to go more than five miles from Paris and the champagne and truffles parade circuit.<br />
Even with a note from matron I'd rather not be the only one in the unit going to Porte arms differently to everyone else.<br />
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We already have a very good medical display from our infirmiere, there are other camp roles like traders, or my journalist impression or running an illicit gambling set up or being some administrative/political post or what about being even a proper regency era painter with canvases and an easel etc?<br />
Or take the chance to do something obscure (especially in the UK) like a Bavarian cartography officer or a Westphalian pontoniere? These would need to be tailor made and have the disadvantage of only being apt for the French side from 1805/7 to 1813.<br />
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Also I'd still like to take to the field and do some fighting.<br />
Voltigeur? I didn't want to diffuse the appearance of the 45eme any more, we need a measure of uniformity and things are looking good, plus you should really still be in the ranks doing the same drill.. I needed to be attached to the 45eme and yet not..<br />
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A supply role? Logistics would also give me something to talk about, the sheer amount needed just for a gun battery is quite astounding. Every infantry battalion had two supply wagons attached.<br />
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The uniform for the artillery train, the train d'equipages (general supply) and the Ambulance drivers is very similar and with a cover over my shako I could easily adapt my look to each as required. Each was issued a musket or carbine and could fight, defending a gun position in the artillery role or helping and protecting our Infirmiere as an Ambulance man.<br />
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Research! Research! Research! Napoleon's specialist troops' from Osprey and the book below was very good for all sorts of supply/support services. </div>
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One of the key factors was eliminating oddities, like one book that described Ambulance drivers as having brown trousers, something which doesn't tally anywhere else. </div>
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I will keep all my fusilier kit for campaign events and for those events where we are sometimes short of troops, particularly firers.<br />
So the project for this winter is to get this impression together with its curious mix of infantry and cavalry style gear, although the wagon and horses will have to wait a bit.<br />
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-62355805969496730502019-09-12T03:54:00.000-07:002019-09-12T04:07:04.099-07:00Twenty nineteen.Crisis! This blog has somewhat fallen aside this year, I was writing up every event because I liked to keep a record, a diary, of every event for future recollection.<br />
But it does feel like repeating oneself sometimes. I missed three events due to having my appendix out, then cracking a rib, so a recap of those I managed to get to..<br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">Horsham Bastille Day!</span><br />
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A big French market of cakes and pastries and saucion and, er, vegetables.. and gallic attractions such as a band, vintage cars, our comrades in the children of the revolution with their guillotine display and ourselves made up this festival in small town England.<br />
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It was surprisingly civil and full of genuine interest, with only one awful bloke who seemed to channel the spirit of top gear repleat with making offensive jokes then saying 'only joking!'. I volunteer this man for the guillotine.<br />
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The unit had been here years ago for similar events at the behest of a French cafe/restaurant, and we had been at the museum for their Waterloo 200 event.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Cheriton</span> <span style="font-size: large;">multiperiod!</span></span><br />
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Hosted by the Sealed knot (English civil war) with added medieval, Napoleonic and some American civil war shenanigans it was the first large multiperiod event I'd been to for a while, not far from Winchester, and apparently not easy to find if driving around the country roads.<br />
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It was a tightly packed schedule with us waiting at one point whilst the medieval display over ran with us clearly twiddling our thumbs and coughing. As one battle ended the next lot were ready to march in. Unless British of course.</div>
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The Sunday battle really was like this.</div>
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The parliamentarians, or possibly the Royalists, push forward. I never can tell unless Prince Rupert is involved.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grössbeeren</span>!<br />
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To Berlin.. the battle of Grössbeeren took place in August 1813 when Napoleon sent Oudinot to capture Berlin and hopefully knock Prussia out of the war. It failed. Terrible rainy weather and the geography of lakes and sandy soil turned the advance into a crawl and a Prussian and Swedish army met the French and Saxons here, who wavered and turned back. Berlin was saved! And every year this event is on, including a big fun fair, craft stalls, the camp, a torchlit parade, a battle, and fireworks.<br />
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Napoleon's hat from Waterloo, now in the German history museum.</div>
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Anyone for medicine? Good for what ails ye. You can always trust a man in a top hat and bare feet. I should have asked if he had anything for mosquito bites.</div>
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The King's Thaler! Given to all by the Bürgemeister at the commemoration on Sunday morning. After which things pretty much wrapped up for the weekend, giving me most of a surprise day before my flight.<br />
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The great Silesian Landwehr before the Bülow monument.<br />
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'Our bones will bleach outside Berlin, before we take a step backwards!'</div>
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2019 is not done with quite yet, we have a small contingent going to Wuustwezel (in Belgium, although it sounds like it should be in Holland) in a couple of weeks for what promises to be a grand event from the organisers of Hoogstraaten 2014. Once more into the low countries...<br />
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-88503418138896692622019-06-05T10:27:00.000-07:002019-06-05T10:32:36.040-07:00our man abroad..<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>MASSACHUSETTS GAZETTE</i></span></div>
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Our correspondent, Wilbur Schlager, has returned from the old world with correspondence and illustrations from the recent conflict in Bavaria.</div>
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Six weeks at sea has cured this correspondent of his travel bug, thirteen in total if you include the return in an unfavorable wind and so you will be reading of the campaign in Bavaria some two months since the last shot was fired and the forces of Napoleon Bonaparte were marching on Vienna.</div>
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On my arrival and travels north I had to regularly try to gain intelligence on where the armies were mustering. For the French and allies I was told to make for Ingolstadt on the Danube. A journalist constantly runs the risk of being taken for a spy and my neutrality as an American citizen and enthusiasm for whichever side I was currently engaged with stood me in good stead. My Purchase of both a Bavarian and Austrian rosette from a reputable Dutch tailor was also a boon on close inspection although I feared discovery of 'the other' every time a soldier took a little too much interest in my possessions. </div>
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From Ingolstadt I followed the armies march towards Regensburg, to travel in the wake of an army is woeful. Food and wine will be in short supply, prices high, and abused citizens may be angry with strangers, again I played my sympathetic aüslander card. Even in the wake of their own troops suffering is not uncommon and the weather had been unseasonably bad making transport slow.</div>
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It was a Bavarian corp that I caught up with on the 20 April. I was off the road in flat country, scattered with woods and farms. The roads heavy with supply wagons and guns. It cost me half a bottle of rum to get a seat by a fire. They seemed confident, thinking the foe must be worse off than themselves, and Napoleon had arrived whom they seemed to have confidence in. </div>
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My experience of what I would later learn was the battle of Eggmühl was limitted to one small corner of the sprawling conflict. I fled from a small wood when I took a dislike to the number of cannons pointing my way and found myself on the lip of a rise with a column of Austrian Grenadiers marching forward, groups of grey clad jeagers in hunters hats flitted around them and engaged with their opposite number.</div>
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I believed the Austrians had the better of it from their initial advance and sounds of melee but the white coats were soon in retreat, cannon shot ringing after them.<br />
I moved for comfort, I shall never forget the brute force of a cannon ball plunging through a light wood as if the trees were matchwood kindling, as if the devil himself, all enraged were crashing through the trees.<br />
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From my new perch I saw a Bavarian troop asail the wall around the Schloss Eggmühl, called a castle it's likeness is like that of a French châteaux, more mansion than stronghold yet a wall of stone yet made the assailents pay in blood before the ladders were raised and smoke indicated fighting beyond.<br />
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An officer of the 2nd Bayerische Chevaux-legere informed me that the battle was won, yet my ears told me blood was still being spilt and There on the flank battle was given next day. There is little love even in peace time between these neighbours. I heard 6000 had fallen on the Franco-German side and twice as many of the Archdukes men. </div>
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The sorrow of war is I would meet a Bavarian soldier and chat in ernest, then hours later be in conversation with a fine Austrian, and wish them both well, hoped they both would have good fortune yet both may end up a victim of the other.</div>
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The army, for I found myself again with the same Bavarians, marched onwards to reach Regensburg and a seige, for that famous stone bridge has stood some six hundred years and defied both sides attempts at destroying it. Panic started in the army as I was on the outskirts of the small conurbation, much damaged, north of the Danube, Napoleon was dead!<br />
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But no fear, he soon made a supreme effort to show it was but a wound to his foot. Lannes, frustrated by failure, now snatched up a ladder and retorted 'I was a grenadier before I was a Marshal, see how a wall is carried!' His example inspired the men to another assault that carried the day.<br />
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I did not go into the smouldering town, but lodged one night with the baggage and headed east along the river and enjoyed the growing prosperity as I voyaged south and so to the sea, away from the war. It is America's blessing that war has not laid our towns and villages to waste in our generation and long may peace reign.<br />
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Wilbur Schlager, Boston, June 1809.<br />
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-66728327717085358912019-05-20T05:39:00.000-07:002019-05-20T05:52:01.564-07:00Battle of Lewes!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Lewes is probably the nearest place to me that has a semi-regular reenactment event, but I've never managed to get along and indeed in 2019 I was set to be in Almelo, Holland, but my appendix intervened and blew up. Can't be doing anything taxing as it heals up. A foray to Lewes as a non combatant however would be a welcome change of scene for the day.</div>
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On Lewes bridge with the mayor (obscurred by large armoured men), that is Simon De Montfort in foreground with the dastardly king, his foe, to his right. The appearance at the castle and here was to advertise the event and the Sunday battle.</div>
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Back at the convent field the weather turned, I prayed for intervention and said the sun would come out for the battle, no one would have to die in the rain, and I'm sure it worked. </div>
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'Oh you're a monk!'</div>
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Is the general public response, understanbly enough to my new guise which I got a couple of years ago but not had an appropriate outing for it, however I am not a monk.. making the reenactor in me want to put them right.. well it's a conversation opener!</div>
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A monk removes himself from the world to contemplation in a monastery. A friar is the opposite, out in the world, hands on, helping the needy and spreading the word.</div>
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Saint Francis, founder of my order, had been wealthy as a youth and briefly a soldier in Italy but repented of his worldly ways. As a non religious person I would come at this role by remembering my admiration for this, friars and Fransicans especially are my idea for how Christians should be, not wealthy and preaching from comfort but living by example, One fellow asking me questions announced that he was a catholic and for a moment I thought he might take umbrage at someone depicting a religious figure, but he didn't and I feel as long as I respect the role no one really should.</div>
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I didn't take to the field given my convalescent state but watched the crowd line and let down the rope when the troops went on and off. It was a modest affair with more folk expected the next day. There was one participant pf note whom seemed to have come to a medieval battle as a 1970s Biker, but with a sword and shield! Ive never really seen anyone who looked a bit.. lost? No one had said anything, maybe they didn't have the heart? How do you even do that if you are the organiser at a small event? Mate, this is the battle of Lewes, 1264, not Easy rider, 1964. </div>
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The mysterious mound near the convent field is actually.. , no one knows, maybe something to do with Druids. especially if you know Lewes.</div>
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It's a pleasant local event and I believe they will try and make it a semi regular feature, events often grow when groups get used to set dates to put in the calendar. I loitered for a bit with the Free company, some of whom also appear in these adventures as the Napoleonic sappeurs, and then wondered like a pilgrim to the train station all of two minutes up the road. </div>
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<span class="tlid-translation translation" lang="la"><span title=""> Tempus est ire</span> <span title="">in domum suam. Time to go home.</span></span><span class="tlid-translation-gender-indicator translation-gender-indicator"></span><span class="tlid-trans-verified-button trans-verified-button" role="button" style="display: none;"></span></div>
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-88151744897595161012019-05-20T05:11:00.000-07:002019-05-20T05:11:08.289-07:00Ickworth III<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My third Ickworth, always a good kick off for the season and always cold or wet or cold and wet, or wet and cold.</div>
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l did have a slight sense of trepidation though. Last year was without any of these Napoleonic association camp behind a country house/battle in the afternoon/socialise around fire in evening events and I wondered if I would still enjoy myself as much, last year having been heavy on campaign and foreign events.</div>
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What wasn't typical was splitting the armies in two as their was a test for a future campaign event on the site and the NA wanted to see how the space worked and try some objectives out. It would also be a good taster for those unfamiliar with this sort of running skirmish and treks. The sides were all the riflemen Vs 16 French volunteers, of whom I was naturally one.</div>
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One of the NCOs observed that the group seemed to have forgotten that troops do actually form units and fight/march in formations when not actually skirmishing My own view was that this was new to quite a few and the novelty of ducking and weaving and firing round trees had overtaken them, it was a different format to standing shoulder to shoulder and listening to orders and it was fun, plus the hotch potch group had lost its recognised command structures, bar the overall officer, which may have added to the impression.</div>
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It certainly didn't hinder effectiveness or elan and I think the French spirit worked particularly well in firing the troops up. The Rifles enjoyed the event and admitted they found it galling to cope with us playing them at their own game. Their attempt to outflank us making us pivot around firing from different directions, the hunters had become the hunted! </div>
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Before I'd even fired a shot I went to show a family how a musket worked, including how when you pull the trigger the flint hits the frizzen and sends sparks down into the powder.. Gchink! The end of the flint just chipped away. This would be the way of it all weekend, I got through seven flints in two days, must have been a very brittle batch. Someone somewhere must dig up masses of flint just for reenactors.</div>
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The battle on Sunday started well with the bagpiper being surprised and shot, if only this could happen sooner, Friday afternoon for instance or before they leave the house.</div>
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Our plucky vanguard of Sappeurs was soon overcome by a cavalry charge, something they have a dramatic talent for.</div>
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Then we, the main army, marched on from the flank having all filed over a wall, shhhh! Down the far corner and hopefully surprising the audience although quite a few of the British have probably seen this ruse at Ickworth before it does work well.It was a lively engagement with two wings fighting it off and the smoke hanging in the damp air. </div>
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But the day was not ours, apparently decided at the officers meeting by a coin toss! The vengeful redcoats decided to shoot our medical infirmiere but he legged it to much applause. </div>
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A good weekend all round. </div>
<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-85225461554502952262018-11-12T05:36:00.002-08:002018-11-12T05:36:14.143-08:00Night in the Trenches.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The weekend of 10/11 November 2018 of course marked 100 years since the end of World war one and saw commemoration events all over the world. There had been a plan to go to France but it fell through due to lack of information/planning but then there was Night in the Trenches at the Staffordshire regimental museum.</div>
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I had misunderstood when I first heard of the event and thought it was actually all night in the trenches and apparently it once was but a change in management decided they didn't want people on site overnight, especially not with sporadic fighting, and it would be tidied away by 23:00.</div>
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Tommy only needs a cup of tea and he's happy.</div>
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I was clearly having a bad day as I was captured six times! During each public trench tour a British team would capture an unwary Bosch and deliver him under fire for interrogation, which was quite hairy and I pretty much fell into the trench on the last occasion, which added to the realism and made children cry (again). </div>
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These duties were shared with Martin (a proper actor, above right) and we both shouted very German sounding nonsense on delivery ''Der Kuhlschrank ist Leer! Der Kuhlschrank ist Leer!' (The refrigerator is empty) and 'Meine hase ist im krankenhaus! (My rabbit is in the hospital).</div>
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Being marched out through the allied trench led to more jokes. ''Didn't we capture your brother earlier?" and "look out they've started cloning!" </div>
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The battles were after the fourth and eigth tour and involved fire between the trenches, both of which had a machine gun, and a few bombs going off, so pretty noisy and atmospheric in the dark. Then the French would get into the left flank of our trench and drive us out before we counter attacked.. a grand attack from all the French/British/Americans would then over run us and the survivors were marched out as prisoners, then formed up for the public.</div>
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As a medic I was quite distracted by dealing with the wounded, applying bandages and morphine whilst the chaos went on around me. Only really knowing we'd been over run when a Tommy was herding my comrades passed. </div>
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There was soup and sandwiches at half time then we did it all again! </div>
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So on Sunday morning I was traveling home, just coming into Kings cross at 10:54.. was in St Pancras international at 11:00 and just took my hat off and stood quietly. It was all a bit anticlimactic but I felt in a way that I was reminding people as I travelled through London in uniform, kit bag over shoulder that these stations had seen thousands of soldiers, often conscripts, pass through, a great many never coming home.<br />
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And so also ended my reenactment year, quite late being November. Quite a lot to look back on like the adventures in Malta and my first great war shows which seem set to continue despite a predicted drop in big events, much as was said when the Napoleonic bicentennial events came to a close. People with a passion for the era will keep it alive!<br />
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No more events but may post up the odd editorial piece in the off season.<br />
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Looking forward to 2019, hope to see you there!<br />
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-14273806869973784762018-10-26T04:13:00.001-07:002018-10-26T07:17:58.952-07:00Völkerschacht 2018<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Five years ago I came to Leipzig for my first continental event, what a kick off that was with thousands of participants and my first time in battle firing a proper musket. Could the 205th anniversary be as rewarding?</div>
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Old Leipzig.</div>
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New Leipzig.</div>
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I flew out for a couple of days before the actual reenactmenty-bit and really enjoyed myself, Leipzig is a great place to visit for its cafe culture, museums and art, both classical and modern and sometimes painted onto big buildings. Having been twice I now regard Karl-Liebkneckt Strasse, known as 'Karlli' as my other neighbourhood. </div>
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It was Friday lunchtime when I found my way to the bivouac at Tollhaus Dollitz, one of three sites, this was for the artillery park of both sides and the Prussian brigade.</div>
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Now, originally there had been an idea of Landwehr unit from England joining the brigade alongside the Russo-Prussian artillery (UK) but for various reasons it ended up with... just me.<br />
I did consider going as an Austrian officer who was separated from his unit but a musket was available to borrow and so I stuck with the original plan, and did not regret it. The Landwehr were a militia who in reenactment terms the only real addition I had to get was the litewka (coat) and feldmütze (cap) as equipment was in short supply in 1813 and much was supplied from abroad, such as Britain or from captured gear. <br />
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Different regions had different colour facings (piping, collar, capband etc). Mine was yellow and Silesian, from the East, which included many non-German speakers. True to form my comrades were Czechs and Poles.<br />
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Hauptmann-Joe adds my name to the roster. I got to experience first hand what was a common feature of the black powder era, being a foreign soldier assigned to a unit as the flotsam and jetsom of war. On Saturday morning there was drill and I was glad a lot of the basics were similar to French, especially footwork, some French commands that sound like a whole sentence are just Two words in German, perhaps surprisingly.. Only a rather convoluted ein-twie-drei-hands-knees-and-whoosy-daisy musket wheeling move confused me, but that never actually came up in the battle of course.</div>
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First official engagement had been the opening of the event at a ceremony at a palace (well, a very large fancy house) just north of the city centre which was present in 1813 and used as a hospital. It was quite a modest turn out as it was still Friday afternoon with many people just arriving. The Russo-Prussian artillery therefore made up the largest single regiment and everyone got a double ration of the beer laid on.<br />
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Day of battle.. after the drill we marched to the Markleeburg camp for lunch. In the UK battalions do not fit bayonets very often, and certainly don't melee with them attached, which I think is a shame as it does look better and more imposing as well as being the right impression. Everyone with a musket knows not to point the barrel at anyone so this naturally leads to a bayonet never being level when troops come to the fray as they naturally become raised and crossed, but.. oh well. <br />
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Anyway, we marched to the big field.. we marched over the big field.. we marched across the next big field.. until we were apparently at Liebertwolkwitz and then took a rest as everyone formed up. <br />
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We in the Prussian brigade along with some Swedish troops and Tyrolean jagers were the reserve and after a short fiery speech from General Blucher we were left in the field behind the battle. The Austrians spearheaded the attack and most of the artillery was already in place. We waited and listened to the guns and the rockets and the cries.. I hoped we were not going to march on just near the end.</div>
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One of those moments that stay with you occurred when the cavalry passed down a narrow track in file with dust and smoke siloetting them between the trees, when we marched on between a gap in those trees another scene occurred as marching up a slight slope you could see everyone in our brigade, we had the sun ahead of us so that it passed through the silk of the flag. </div>
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Suddenly we were fighting, loading </div>
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and firing at the French.<br />
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Above is the moment we took to the field and the contest opened up.. soon a major charge made us fall back in disarray. We crossed bayonets with Poles and Bavarians and having fought through the latter I was outnumbered and fell.. I called on one of them to remember he was my brother and join us! He didn't, but did give up on trying to steal one of my shoes, so it was a partial win. A doctor and nurse assistant ran to my aid and I managed to limp back to the unit.</div>
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The combination of dust from the loose soil and drifting smoke made for some atmospheric scenes.</div>
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Charged by dragoons and hussars we formed square amid the human wreckage of the fighting.</div>
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Das booom! not pictured but very much present was an Austrian mortar which used up a whole bag of powder with each mighty shot, the rockets were also noteworthy for adding to the atmosphere and I saw a couple land on spots where soldiers had been only moments before.</div>
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I confess I wasn't sure about the presence of British and Scottish troops (other than the Rocket troops who famously were there) because your putting on an historical battle then adding troops who had nothing to do with it.. and partially because if I travel a thousand miles across Europe I don't want to see more $%^*ing riflemen! But on reflection I do see that in a land where most events are recreations of an actual battle that took place if you live in Dresden and want to be a Highlander you'd have to constantly travel to Belgium or Spain.. but then there was something like 23 armies involved in the Battle of the nations and 1813 campaign.. did none of them take your fancy? </div>
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So it was a great battle with us being well employed, as I think everyone was, and being quite mobile. A fine balance between being well organised but not scripted, I've no idea how much went as planned. The Saxons defecting to our side near the end was doubtless so and the length of the battle was about right. </div>
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Admitting defeat Emperor Napoleon leaves the battlefield his anger making him eschew the bus service provided.</div>
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The commemoration ceremony was a modest occasion on the Sunday morning, at first in the open park where there was a speech and 'Meine gute Kamerad' was played on a bugle. At the close there was a shout: French contingent: </div>
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Vive L'EMPEREUR!</div>
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Vive L'EMPEREUR</div>
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Viiiiiiive L'EMPEREUR!</div>
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Blücher: We still won.<br />
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There was then a brief gathering of a few French and Saxons by the Napoleon stein.. a monument to where Napoleon apparently lost his hat when leaving the field. I visited the giant Völkerschlacht memorial and bid many of my comrades of the weekend farewell and marched back into town. I may well look into going next year, such a fantastic place! or see what other events are on such as Grossbeeren in the suburbs of Berlin, having made some friends I'd like to think I can drop in and join them again. Bis Spater! (See you later!)</div>
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PROST! NOSTROVIA! SANTE!</div>
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-43136295995470597942018-10-12T13:27:00.001-07:002018-10-12T13:27:21.485-07:00Orchestral manoeuvres. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
When is a reenactment event not a reenactment event? As an example of the fabulous opportunities that can come up for reenactors I think it belongs here..</div>
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A post went up announcing that members of the 1914-21 society had been invited to attend the 'Concert for reconciliation' featuring the Royal philharmonic orchestra, in London, on Wednesday the tenth.</div>
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I said I'd like to go and got in touch with the organiser, however it appeared there were only two of us and both representing the central powers.. I offered to contact a couple of other groups. No takers. I had to cast my net wider and field a few enquiries, times, changing rooms, what duties were involved?.. but eventually we had a respectable team. I had not planned to become the point of contact but was pleased with how it worked out.</div>
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No one was going to sit next to me on the train.</div>
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It was a warm early evening and I strolled to Cadogan hall from Victoria station and with only one misstep soon found myself loitering outside and the other folk began to arrive. We then moved into the entrance hall and broke into strolling amongst the guests until the call went up for people to take their seats. </div>
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It was a mixed programme with Tchaikovsky, Scriabin, Vaugn Williams and George Lloyd amongst others, there was a strong Russian influence as the Embassy was involved in bringing the evening together, and our own involvement in it.</div>
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Sneaky picture, pointy finger.</div>
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More mingling at half time in the foyer and in conversation someone mentioned we were welcome to the refreshments in the hospitality room... Ding! actually I was very good and let my fellows know about it before accepting a triangular sandwich and a glass of wine with some of the Chelsea pensioners who had come along.</div>
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The music continued but I think you would have been hard put to know there was a reconciliation theme to the evening, according to the programme many of the composers had connections with the great war but nothing was expressed and rather oddly two scenes from Henry V were enacted by an actorrrr.. including the Saint Crispian's day speech which is rather feisty.. not really a call for peace on earth! </div>
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Me, Fredericke Krum, the opera singer, the head of culture at the Russian embassy and... his mum? </div>
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But the evening was not over yet and our host, Sergei, took us to a restaurant.. literally just walking into Sloane square and finding a place with spaces, a French restaurant. It was all excellent, from service to food but then this is quite an, er, exclusive postcode! </div>
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..and then I was homeward bound after such a glittering evening, again an opportunity I would never have had if not for living history. </div>
<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-68428722218038030552018-10-02T03:28:00.000-07:002018-10-02T03:45:02.886-07:00 Zonnebeke.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
And so it was I rendevouzed with James (Cyclist chasseur) and Carolyn (The French refugee) and off we went to Zonnebeke, a village in 1914 that was soon totally destroyed in the heavy fighting that was constant for almost the whole four years of the war. </div>
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We called in to see the Menin gate on the way and see a little of Ieper, called Ypres by those who had trouble with pronunciation.. because its so much easier.. or Wipers by those still confounded. At Zonnebeke we set up in the grounds of the park that surrounds the museum, traces of trenches can still be seen and one wonders if some of the ponds are not simply shell craters long since filled with water. </div>
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At the start of the 1917 offensive a number of giant mines packed with explosives were set off under the German lines, but three on one flank were not needed and left in place. one actually exploded in 1954 when struck by lightning and the other two are.. lost.. somewhere in Flanders there are two masses of explosives packed under the ground because of a lack of record keeping. Lets home they have long been flooded out.</div>
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After a night out at the pub turned restaurant that is The Volkbund we returned to the site and I went to see where my group were encamped, one of the fellows half-jokingly mentioned there was a little cottage type building just off the path I could sleep in.. and so of course I investigated and found a little house that must have been an outbuilding for the main house built in the thirties, maybe for a gardener, a single room with flagstone floor, a fireplace, round windows, but no glass. It would be my little house now!</div>
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Last year the event had been about twice the size as it was 100 years since the battle of Passchendaele that the museum most commemorates but many still returned for this occasion when the end of the war was drawing near. </div>
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How many things can you make out of condensed milk, corned beef and jam? </div>
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I thought as I'd brought my gasmask/case and stahlhelm I should get some use out of them, plus I get the impression that not taking your gasmask around is a no-no. Gas discipline must be observed!</div>
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I have a theory that gas attacks went on right to the end of the war even though with protective equipment casualties must have been far fewer (some of the later gases like Phosgene could actually be absorbed by the skin) but the sheer effect of wearing a gasmsk is quite disabling. You must get your helmet off to affix it and then cannot do the chin strap back up, so youd need to hold it on if running or climbing and even with little exertion I found condensation forming on the lenses, which themselves could slip out of place, also sound is muffled and you have to raise your voice to speak. For disrupting orders and communication as well as perception it is ideal, you just want to sit and wait for it to pass.</div>
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Andreas from Italy and the big Belgian(?) gun.</div>
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Sports afternoon.. A tug of war match or two, and a bicycle and a motorbike race. I had a go on the vintage bicycle and it was a little clanky with handlebars in a U shape but I could certainly see myself doing a messenger role, and I could also use it to get to events a few miles from the railway station.</div>
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Bigger people and bigger studs on boots is a big help for the British. Booo!</div>
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Cabaret night at the Spiegeltent! Acts from amongst the re-enactment groups were called for, on top of which was a professional can can dance troupe and a singer and pianist for a bit of class. There were songs from many lands, mostly music hall.<br />
One song was certainly suitable for troopers and was abit close to the bone with its tale of Prussian soldiers and Belgian girls 'She's surely too young to be f*^ked by the Hun!' I seem to remember was one line... and I was prompted to stand up at the end and deliver a retort that as a German soldier this song made me sad and that I (and my comrades) were in fact VERY NICE. Which seemed to go down well with the audience, a lot of whom were the general public, and one of the Rumanians came over to thank me later for speaking up at that interval. Normal service, and a great time, continued. I did get up and sing one song as part of a group though I had to read of a little song sheet in German! Minding my Js and Ss. </div>
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It was a bit frosty overnight and naturally I was up for breakfast of fried bread and eggs and several coffees. The evening before had been a curry and everything cooked on field kitchen equipment with recipes from the time. What a great touch.<br />
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'It's a long way to Dresden.'</div>
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There was a whole corner of the park dedicated to medical matters, including this hospital set up and a horse drawn ambulance that someone had built from scratch.</div>
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We came up with a skit we did a few times where James would play music to Carolyn, possibly soliciting for money, only to be interrupted by me as a German saying 'No busking!'. The fearful refugee would run away and I would spot her handbag left on the bench and run off with it in opposite direction. seemed to amuse the onlookers.</div>
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One man and his (temporary) dog. We had been chatting to a lovely chap from Wales called Neil who quite wanted to go into the museum but it was no dogs allowed. solution; we shall look after your lovely dog, Gwynn. They came back the next day too.</div>
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the only real set activity for the weekend was the service of remembrance at 10:30 on Sunday which involved songs, prayers, letters and poems in several languages, and everyone encouraged to hold hands and greet the people around them. (Picture from Eric Compernolle)</div>
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Everyone universally understood 'free coffee and cake' from the closing speech, actually a waffle and tea, coffee or rum, or rum in your coffee if you prefer. We had to leave about an hour after the ceremony but stopped at the Tyne cot cemetery en route to Calaise. I still find the whispering voice very moving, every fifteen seconds or so a girls voice reads out a name and an age. then a silence. the voice could go on for years and never repeat itself.</div>
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It was a fantastic weekend, once again very different to Napoleonic events, they are different animals, and the organisers had asked for groups to favour 'No officers, no medals' if they could. Common soldiers, all in the same boat. I was very glad I went for with the centenials coming to a close we may not see its like again. </div>
Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-54397953143753201952018-10-01T06:23:00.004-07:002018-10-01T06:23:57.437-07:00Postcard from Dover.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Another year another trip to Dover (actually there are usually two but we were away on an escapade for the spring open day). This one is more a few postcards...</div>
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Mini-Western heights. Bit too small for 6mm wargames. Damn shame those large buildings in the centre have long been demolished. Even as late as the sixties I understand a lot more original features remained.</div>
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Napoleon has tweeted! </div>
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The skirmish of day one kicked off with us emerging from the cantonments and trading a few vollies before the redcoats retreated up to the main open area with us following, each on one slope we went into open order.. but it began to drag a little as both sides had a few misfires and none of the British seemed to want to die so that we could then advance and capture/defeat the outnumbered survivors, in the end we just went in and their colour was captured! (with prior agreement) HURRAH FOR FRANCE!</div>
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As well as ourselves and the British there was a group of various WWII Germans. I chatted with them and one subject was the recent gutter press outrage about NAZIS at the National trust! After ONE person complained about people in German uniforms being at a World war two event. What did she expect? One of the guys here had just been asked some leading questions by a man who was standing there with his phone set on 'record'. </div>
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I recently saw such an event advertised as featuring 'Allied and other re-enactors'. Other? Other?? Wonder who that could be.</div>
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After a trip into town for dinner by the little harbour and quite a dry and mild night the rain came and would pretty much carry on until five minutes after the event ended. The firegrate was moved under the awning causing steam to rise off the top. There can be a certain cosiness to rainy days as everyone huddles under an awning until its time to march out.<br />
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The casements became the centre of events especially with their supply of tea and cakes although the tunnels were also dry and worth a visit.. and of course the show had to go on, skirmish at the time advertised! it was still rainy but I managed to get more shots off than the day before but of course it was the Brits time for revenge and we were soon all dead except for the drummers.<br />
..and thus ended the day, and the year for 45eme events. wet tents were taken down, hands were shaken, hugs were given. Next year the drums are already sounding for Eggmuhl in Bavaria (1809), my favourite Napoleonic year! <br />
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-51716697957662228712018-08-08T10:46:00.002-07:002018-08-08T11:24:21.006-07:00Gone Kipling.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Evidence that I was right! My planned weekend at Bateman's started with a bit of a trek, first to Brighton station as there were no trains stopping at outlying stations due to Pride.. and then to arrive at Etchingham station two hours later to find.. not a living soul. I managed to find the bus stop, but it clearly showed no buses at weekends. Buses were a thing of local myth and legend! so it was a march to Burwash and down to Bateman's, once the home of Rudyard Kipling. I was given directions to go part of the way by a backroad by two locals with their own speed camera.. I hoped I wasn't entering Hot Fuzz country and would never be found...</div>
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I did arrive though, literally as the battle was about to begin and had to hurry into tunic, helmet and belts and ran up to the hillside with everyone mostly concealed '''Excuse me, which side are the Germans?' I had to ask.</div>
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Minutes later I was on the treeline, ducking to avoid bullets and looking for any wounded. No sooner did I reach some as the British charge came home, someone shouted about 'Bayonetting the buggers!' and I drew my Luger. There was a very real moment of cod-German me exclaiming I was only loosely waving my gun at them in defense and them all aiming there rifles and shouting, but I was disarmed and taken alive.</div>
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Thus ended my first Great war battle, without doubt the shortest one I'd ever been in.</div>
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The rest of the day was living history, talks, displays, an amusing twice a day skit from the plane crew. Talking to the public, eating cheese and drinking cloudy lemonade. I joined some of the group for a stroll up to the 'Rose and Crown' in the evening, which did very good fishcakes.</div>
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Battle on day two was again the start of the event at 11 am, which is unusual as most of the public are drawn to the afternoon. More firers were needed so I stripped off my red cross and accepted a blank firing Moisin Nagant pistol from the Russians. I was forward sentry and also had to spot the red flag meaning 'Action!'. Amid the echo of rifle fire I cracked off a few shots and ran back only to be spun around by a bullet with my name on it.</div>
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I ended up kicking myself on day two as someone had been selling old kit on Saturday and had medical pouches but wary of spending my limited amount of cash I had said 'probably tomorrow..' now it was tomorrow and I had the cash left but the chap was not here! </div>
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I picked up quite a few tips from other German reenactors, like how to buff my helmet to make it look less new, that my buttons should be dyed/painted if after the very, very early war, and where equipment like bread bag and canteen sit.. pretty much at the back which seems awkward and counter intuitive but apparently if you needed something you'd ask a comrade to get it. Some advice though was seemingly contradictory.. your boots should really be a darker hue with this exact dye watered down to 1/3 strength.. and then that the German army had little standardisation after the blockade and material shortages started to kick in. Personally I shall stick to a few abnormalities under this very guise. My mother sent me these boots don't you know! </div>
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To close the day there would be a parade and commemoration. I joined on to the 73 German fusilier regiment and marched out, swinging right arm in time and trying to catch what the unfamiliar commands were.</div>
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The main regiment were British and to mark 1918 as the wars end at a given signal two ranks of them laid down their arms, stripped off jackets and helmets and put on civilian caps. Return to civilian life, those who survived.</div>
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The march off was interesting for me as having tagged myself on the back to follow the others I was now at the front and couldn't see anyone. Fortunately with a bit of panache and knowing my links from my Rechts I made it back to our flag for a unit pep talk in what a grim future awaited us. </div>
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The voyage home was a lot smoother, and pleasant to imagine that I could actually be going home on leave on a train, which I was glad of as I was sure I could feel the hobnails through the bottom of my boots by now. </div>
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Next stop will be.. not sure actually, quite a quiet August will be followed by quite a busy September..</div>
<span id="goog_1142090644"></span><span id="goog_1142090645"></span><br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-7098959259824208092018-07-31T05:45:00.001-07:002018-07-31T05:47:27.519-07:00Oswestry Odyssey<br />
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Oswestry is a market town on the Welsh border, just on the English side although the scene of this years campaign event hosted by the 5/60th Rifles was literally up the first turning on the Welsh side, an area of sudden hills and valleys, all covered in tall trees. </div>
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Of course its quite a tidy step, I trained it to Bath to meet a friend and we set off to stay over in Schrewsbury before the last leg next morning.</div>
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Formed into two groups, three of ourselves with the 60th whom we re-imagined as allies from the Confederation of the Rhine.. and some other rifles and Redcoats on the other side.. we started with quite a trek to find our campsite which was somewhere on high ground..</div>
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After we located the scene a patrol went out, others went on guard duty, a Light rain was accompanied by a far more dramatic thunder storm nearby. Would they come up the gully? Streaming clouds made the shadows dance. Later a Twitchy sentry would fire at our own patrol coming back.</div>
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I was part of the next patrol, down, down we went on winding paths and steps cut in the earth until we sighted what we thought was a white tent down a steep wooded slope, the enemy camp? Sure enough around the next bend were two sentries and we each in turn stepped out to give staggered fire, and back to the first man.. but we had stirred the hornets nest and withdrew.</div>
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An hour later and probing attacks came at our camp. </div>
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I peered round a corner on an uphill bend and saw two riflemen at about twenty feet and as one aimed dropped down low on the crest then shot back and retreated back down to a comrade, leaning into bushes to reload. More shots sounded.</div>
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"You must be hit by now, we only do aimed shots". Came a voice.</div>
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It hadn't actually occurred to me that participants would be expected to die at this point, unless surprised or in the open at closer ranges.. I had only seen people driven back. How did you know if you were hit? The Riflemen were confident they would hit, a rifle has better range and accuracy.. true, except at ranges like twenty feet our muskets would have been pretty much the same.. half a brick is terribly inaccurate but at ten yards it's as good as the finest javelin! </div>
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The group was scattered, some apparently were prisoners, one taken when firing forwards and a redcoat strolled up behind and tapped him on the shoulder. </div>
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The sounds of battle restarted down the valley somewhere, should we stay to defend or join the fray? Two of us elected to advance to the sound of the guns, down the winding downhill paths through the wood. We stopped to admire the sun dappled hills opposite and I went to take a sneaky photo of Simon against the backdrop but immediately I glanced round and saw.. the enemy coming round the next bend! Redcoats! I shouted as they began a bayonet charge with a yell.</div>
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I couldn't stop and fire with both hands full and was desperately trying to put camera back in bag whilst running.. </div>
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Around a slight bend I dived into a shallow dip flanked by bushes and hunkered down.. maybe they would run passed and not see me.. then I could come out behind them.</div>
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They had stopped when Simon turned to give fire.</div>
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I emerged and surprised a redcoat about eight yards away. I aimed and fired. Click.</div>
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Misfire!. Merde! Emboldened the big Welshman (?) Charged but I cocked the hammer and fired just in time. Phew!</div>
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(Of course neither of these shots were at the redcoat at this range, being deliberately turned from his path of approach, but we both knew a shot at that range meant.. aaaaagh!) </div>
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Oh and did I mention the black powder grenades supplied by a chap usually an artillerymen? They were fun to behold. </div>
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it was real skirmish work, ducking and diving and going forward, which you don't see much at big events due to the terrain. It certainly made us reflect that putting on a fancy hat does not make one a voltigeur. </div>
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Sadly every weather prediction from the BBC to sheep's entrails all said a terrible rain front was coming in the night.. and the plan for raiding under the cover of darkness was dropped. I had rather looked forward to the experience of navigating through a dark forest and looking out for sentries.. or being on said duty.. but oh well. There would be beer and jollity in one camp.. nearer the parking field as folk were worried they might get rained in. </div>
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Sure enough after a night in makeshift roped up shelters small streams were running down the road ways and not a soul escaped being wet, still a fire was got up for coffee. No guns would fire in this and without a word being said it was agreed that yesterday had been a great and active day but it was time to go home.</div>
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Hope to return next year, after months of dry weather, what luck! Still many fine moments to remember. I shall probably wake in the night reliving that Welshman charging and the musket not firing. </div>
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Good days! </div>
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Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-55640814115854587142018-07-19T05:25:00.000-07:002018-07-19T05:25:29.578-07:00Steaming into the past.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Train enthusiasts are a funny lot.. said the history enthusiast who dresses up at the weekend.</div>
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Tracks to the trenches at the Apedale light railway just outside Stoke-on-Trent was the third and final event centred on the role of light gauge railways and steam power in the Great war.</div>
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A number of living history groups were on hand to add colour and atmosphere to the weekend. including myself as 'The only German in the village' though I did have some allied (Austro-Hungarian) Bosniaks to support, who due to their fezes are constantly asked if they are Turkish. The 14th Olonetsky regiment (Russians) would provide the core of our 1914-21 group which focuses on the war in the East. Trying to read up more really brought home how much attention is paid to the British experience on the Western front and overlooking Russia, Poland, Serbia, the Italian front, Syria, Greece, even the Dardanelles with British and commonwealth forces is quite a drop off from the number of books on the Somme.</div>
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Several things I learnt this weekend:</div>
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1) How to get an eighteen pounder field gun off the back of a carriage with wheel ramps, ropes and chocs. </div>
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2: How to engage in a portaloo with a belted, accoutrement laden tunic over a pair of braces attached to trousers under that tunic.</div>
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3: Not to drink tea from an aluminium cup, as the heat will firstly transfer into the metal making it too hot to hold and then dissipate leaving you with a tepid cup of tea. </div>
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From experience of being French I had expected a few people to ask 'Why are you German?' but in fact this never happened, maybe a lot of the public really have taken on the idea that it was a terrible war with out an enemy, without hate, at least to our current generation. I would like to think so.</div>
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Instead I was asked a few times 'If your a medic why do you have a gun?' The Geneva convention does actually stipulate that medical personnel can carry a weapon for self defence although most countries never did so the Germans often did as part of the duties in looking after/saving the wounded, including to defend them against any crazed enemies who might be keen on bayonetting the wounded. </div>
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'Die werwundeten kommen immer zuerst'.</div>
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The wounded always come first. </div>
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Various sized trains were also on display with various sized great war themes and looked at by various sized people.</div>
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Early afternoon each day it was our turn to man the trenches, mainly as a display as the public were free to wander through although there were a few odd shots fired off and a couple of simulated gas attacks during the day. Whilst here on the first day I made a mental note of the nice little dug out as a place to kip later. </div>
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It was quite an experience to go riding on a few steam trains, big and small, just clinging to an eight foot long flatbed or in an open-sided cattle box, just enjoyable to look out the door up and down the track. It's another thing you would never get to do if you weren't one of the reenactors, you are trusted not to fall out the door, unlike the general public.<br />
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It was quite a relaxed weekend, Great war re-enactment does indeed include staged battles rather like Napoleonics or other periods but therein there is more colour and spectacle of formation charges, lines wheeling, musket vollies, cannons firing over open sights, horses charging etc.. but less often it seems, doubtless in part due to the nature of the war and the terrain and the current hundred year commemorations. Living history is prevalent which concentrates on more static displays and engaging with the public.</div>
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Roll on next month! but in the meantime it will be back to 1812 and invading.. Wales. </div>
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-26254609822693583342018-07-16T03:40:00.000-07:002018-07-16T04:12:29.017-07:00The road to war..<br />
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I have a fairly broad interest in history although it tends to concentrate on the black powder period, then last year some friends and I went on a road trip to the Ardennes and back, including Liege, Bastogne, Arras and Cambrai. Many of these were scenes of particular World war one battles and there were a couple of great museums. My interest in the great war picked up. Then early this year another trip to around Ypres, with similar sites, the ball was rolling...</div>
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Great war re-enactment..</div>
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But what army? what group? where are good places to buy kit?</div>
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I knew I didn't want to do British because there are so many groups doing that in the UK I imagined the scene needed more diversity.. Belgian? I liked the idea of plucky Belgium but would I be a regiment of one? A brief google didn't turn any groups up but should that matter? I could tag myself on to an allied group at events but in practical terms its useful being in a group as you are covered by insurance and event organisers generally go through a group. German? I can speak a little German and am quite a Germanophile and there would certainly be groups, plus I already owned a Feldmutze (cap) that was bought on a whim.. its a start!</div>
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Groups tend to have reputations, for great authenticity, or lack of same, for comradeship, for thinking they are actually the real army, for being too dry, for being too drunk! I needed to do some research, I asked some friends into WWI living history and all suggested 'The 1914-21 society' as a good bet. </div>
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They do not portray one unit but concentrate on the Eastern theatre so have Russians from the great war and Russian civil war that followed, Austrians, including Bosniaks and mountain troops, and Germans.. all tempting but I'd started down the German path and the gear looked easier to get right on my own as the Austrian stuff in particular was very bespoke. After my American civil war experience and talk with Ian (i.e. e-mail) I liked very much that they invited people to do whatever role they wanted. </div>
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Lochnagar crater.</div>
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So something that was a little more individual but would still see me on the battlefield/in the trenches.. Medical services came to mind. Part of being German was because every country suffered that got pulled into the war, which I consider 'The last argument of kings' and me today would not really have wanted to fight a massive war because Franz-Josef has a grudge with little Serbia.. but I would like to help people out.. Krankentrager.. stretcher bearer/medic it was. I would basically be a called up reservist from the landsturm who volunteered for the medical service attached to the battalion. I would also be Saxon.</div>
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The German army despite unification still had divisions and separate uniforms (well variations) for most of the German states like Bavaria, Wurtemburg, etc. The Saxons had a reputation as being easy going and keen to start unofficial truces, which often annoyed the Prussians who took the fighting lark far more seriously. Despite the stereotype of the major powers the German army soon became one of the most rag tag, partly due to shortages, but also seldom enforced things like shaving regulations, so no one could say I had a wrong beard. </div>
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Soon it was all coming together, tunic, trousers, cap, boots (early war brown), breadbag, canteen, wire cutters, cutlery set.. picklehaube.. the spiked helmet of the early war.. with a separate plate for Saxony. The only things I couldn't find were the right size mess tin (googling for WWI German annoyingly mixes results with WWII German and items that are not specified as either, beware!), a tornister backpack and a Saxon belt buckle.. my current one is from Wurtemburg but you'd have to get pretty close to notice, shhhHH! </div>
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Early or late war is a consideration, most pictures of the group showed the German contingent as early war so I'd gone with that.. but what if events were meant to be strickly 1916-18? A steel helmet and gasmask/case followed.</div>
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I also found Saxon tunics have two buttons on the cuff instead of three, you cannot buy tunics tailored like that so for now due to supply problems I have been issued with a standard three button version, don't you know there is a war on?</div>
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My personal impression was growing, why did I speak good English? well in 1913 a full 10% of restaurant and hospitality staff in London were German, an area of the East end was known as German town, even before the war the Daily Mail was railing against the number of foreign devils taking British jobs (coming over here and waiting our tables!) and printing fictional stories about fiendish hun spies (or Austrians, or Italians, anyone really...) which would add to the hysteria when war actually came. So there you are I was a waiter who saw the writing on the wall and returned to my native Leipzig in my last year of being liable for the reserves (age 45) and found myself in the army.</div>
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Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-692623330196683672.post-48677453794416441242018-06-13T07:58:00.000-07:002018-10-30T05:18:18.792-07:00Postcards from Malta.<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em> <span style="font-size: x-large;"> Postcards from Malta.</span></em></strong></span><br />
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Malta, an island stuffed with history including the world's earliest free standing buildings, and between 1798 and 1800 the scene of a French landing as Napoleon popped in on the way to Egypt leading to a subsequent two year occupation until being cut off from France and the valiant defenders had to give in.</div>
Instead of recounting the whole week I'll break it down into a few subjects, starting with my first experience of going on a plane with a gun.<br />
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It did seem a faff and a bit daunting, but it all worked out well.<br />
The first step was selecting excess baggage; sports equipment; firearms. Both there and back again.<br />
The air Malta website said you had to inform them 72 hours before travel and a police escort was required.<br />
Was this as well as booking a firearm or did that count as informing? Also was a police escort needed both sides? I called Sussex Police and they had never heard of it but just said ''follow whatever it says''. Turns out it was only Malta side and with over 500 reenactors going they were on standby.<br />
There were eleven guns on the flight so we all got grouped together and had to one by one go into an office and show the officer our papers and the serial number on the gun then have loading crew come and take them onwards. This included a dummy musket, I suppose it takes same space and they need to check it is a dummy.<br />
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At the other end were the police who met the muskets as they were received and again serial numbers were checked, but it was a little less formal and quicker. On the way back it was repeated but the Malta guys were not bothered about serial numbers which was good as it's a pain getting them in and out of a hardcase with other gear. The Police were very friendly and the main firearms guy was working overtime to cope with us all. So it was all okay, if more time consuming. Outside we were loaded into an army truck and taken to the drop off point between the two 'camps'.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Life in Fort St Angelo.</span> </div>
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This was my digs for the week. A massive fort built up over the ages on an ancient site and besieged in 1565 and bombed in WWII and now I had the honour of sleeping on its floor. My first three nights were in a little look out tower overlooking the escarpment up to the entrance, which was cool but sometimes a bit noisy due to the street and people on the massive posho yachts below. So I retreated to an alcove further in for the second half of the week.</div>
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The fort was a bit over subscribed, I opted to sleep out but bodies kept appearing throughout the first few days, the rooms actually felt a bit stuffy, might have had the small blessing of being mosquito free however. For a change I used the showers, hose pipes in a tunnel with cold water but still very welcome and made you feel most revived after a long day! one shower was at two a.m. after being woken up by bad pop music.</div>
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Helping with logistics I was quite annoyed by the attitude of a few of the people in the fort, the organisers were trying their best but stuff was often late, such as water, this was a re-enactment event run by reenactors, not a business you paid for. listening to someone complaining that there group had no water I just wanted to tell them that if they were that desperate get two of your men to walk five minutes down the road and buy a few bottles to tide you over, what are you? Children?! Call yourselves soldiers!? use some initiative! </div>
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Walking into Valetta after the Philomena battle, the scenery really made me think that this wasn't Kansas anymore, must of been pretty gruelling for a campaign with 18th century logistics.</div>
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Could be Egypt!</div>
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The Battle of Mistra bay. Because of an eye injury caused by some gritty sand getting caught in my eye I only did the Tuesday and Wednesday battle, local health centre sorted it but it was a bit of a rough night on Friday. </div>
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This battle was memorable indeed, we marched round a sandy coastal track to the base of a sloping hill that was covered in broken ground, all shrubs, thorns and white ragged rocks, really no gaps between the three and occasional small seams/chasms near the cliff face.. oh did I mention one flank was a cliff dropping into the sea below? </div>
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We started by swinging round and advancing on a building/ditch held by the Maltese and traded a few vollies before a brief charge where I nabbed an enemy hat (which I duely returned). This was repeated and I noticed the fray only went up to a low wall so ran along it to get behind the defenders, who then surrendered.</div>
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Rock hopping up the hill whilst trying to remain in formation was interesting. ''staighten the line!' er no, there is two foot hole full of cactus! Half way up it seemed the enemy were finished and many sat in defeat on the rocks. But no, we were off again against a fighting retreat with pot shots against us </div>
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from the bluffs.</div>
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Then began a long march, the sort that becomes a chore but in retrospect you remember more warmly. I think a twenty minute wait in ranks riled more people as at least whilst moving you think each step is getting you somewhere. Finally, a town square! Civilisation, food, drink, steps to sit on, local music and a conga!</div>
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Malta itself. I've never been to Malta before and very much enjoyed it. The architecture is fantastic, sandstone mostly, with balconies, and towers and engravings, and nearly everything is at least three or four floors to maximise space. At almost any time of the day you will hear bells or cannons, dont ask why. Culture seems a blend of the best parts of Italian and English. England of course occupied Malta right up to the last century and red phone boxes, three pin plug sockets, zebra crossings, etc bare this out. Most signs are in English and even I didn't feel bad just speaking it as first language, instead of a token fail at the lingo.</div>
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Food involved a lot of bread and pasties, the main source of carbohydrate, when goats cheese, fish and salad seemed another theme. You need stuff to keep you going, I thought I was eating well but lost weight in just a few days.</div>
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Cisk (ch-isk) is the local beer and the default if you are not fussy, sorry selective.. to me it had a plastic tang but was tolerable if served very cold. I preferred the Farsons light ales (same company). Kinnie is also a must try, a soft drink of orange and herbs, rather flowery with a hint of dandelion and burdock.</div>
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Weather was hot! You can begin a walk feeling fine but after ten minutes get a drop of sweat run down your face, two minutes later you'll be perspiring head to foot. There was often a cool breeze of the sea and the tall buildings shade the streets.</div>
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Public transport is cheap, but the island has a problem with so many cars on a small island, if a ferry is an option go by sea! </div>
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A day with the Royal marines (Czech/German group).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43pkvyi7lPMSAx47XXdXAQpqJG5A9DmgsUCdqCsPU7TCydp6gU2pDJk7mGUfa0MxsNf3_DX2aS5YA8X8hpbX-CIp36iNRcpFHqBg4QAssJJ0J8WI2bXKh3rKBs0iR-TP5kUNQO-LLSd8/s1600/IMG_20180605_063848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43pkvyi7lPMSAx47XXdXAQpqJG5A9DmgsUCdqCsPU7TCydp6gU2pDJk7mGUfa0MxsNf3_DX2aS5YA8X8hpbX-CIp36iNRcpFHqBg4QAssJJ0J8WI2bXKh3rKBs0iR-TP5kUNQO-LLSd8/s320/IMG_20180605_063848.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Dawn over the battlements, looking out to sea for over 2000 years.</div>
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Conclusion: a great time overall, nice to fight on different terrain Vs a more irregular enemy. Overall felt more like a holiday with friends in hats than a campaign, but then I was signed off for a bit. Would happily go back, I didn't really get to see the local museums, this was a big event, twenty years since the 200th anniversary but smaller events occur every now and then. </div>
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Sitting here now I'd love to just teleport back for a stroll, or a water taxi, into town for a beer, even if it was a Cisk.</div>
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<br />Rhandolphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04311519902013126394noreply@blogger.com0