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Winter Muster, Ft. McAllister, Georgia, Dec. 9

- by Azzit Mightabin -

After the action around Palatka Florida where Captain Dickison's son was killed, I decided my fortune might lay a little further to the North. The Carolina's seem to be full of opinionated politicians and as a news man I am one who can appreciate hot headed windbags. On my way there stood the plucky little Ft. McAllister, that I have writtin about, just south of Savannah. I decided to pay a visit to the garrison and thank the men who had exasperated all federal attempts of destruction.

Upon arriving I discovered my luck to be able to observe the garrison being inspected. and the pleasure of partaking a Christmas feast. The women from the surrounding parts were preparing a Christmas party. These gracious ladies had decorated the officers quarters and were dressed quite lively and gay for the party. With the decorations, the abundance of food and joy, and the fort being spotless clean for the inspection officers from Savannah, it felt like the winter just before the war. Before the war - before we were forced to endure the ever growing sadness and shortages that we now face. And yes it was cold, so cold that a multitude of glowing campfires were consuming trees faster than they were growing, but on this day our hearts were warm and our spirits bright with Christmas tidings.

Now the officers of the fort were busy running all about preparing reports, fixing things up, and hiding whot can't be fixed. This allowed me to wander freely among the men, sharing my news from Florida and learning up details on the repeated attacks on McAllister and area. I inspected the fort myself and was impressed with the tales of how quickly the men could repair damage made by Federal gunships. This was certainly due to its earthen construction. It seems the Federals would bombard the fort all day - killing a few chickens and moving some tonnes of earth - and at night our troops would move the earth back to its rightful place whilst cooking deceased chickens. How funny to see full bellied boys, standing atop a repaired wall, taunting the disbelievin bluecoats at sunrise. Maybe I'll come back to watch, if this infernal war drags on to next year.

I was told that just under 100 men are listed on the rosters here and that counting out the sick, and those on leave, there were about 80 to be inspected. Now these boys are the real thing, the authentic soldiers, but I believe the cold weather must'ave skeared some away. For I circled the area more than once but couldn't count any higher than about 45 brave souls. In addition I found one sutler, one Reverend named Roger, and one dog.

Just afore sundown the boys were formed up and eye inspected. The dandy band played some stirring songs an' ever-a-one stood in respectful silence save some shivering for their efforts. With the call to "fallout" a call to "line-up" was given as the hearty boys were treated to a feast not seen across the South for many months. The women from the surrounding parts, despite their own hardships, had prepared a sumptuous Christmas dinner for these brave boys who suffered and sacrificed while trying to protect the virtue of the South.

I ate my fill and while sitting still, began to feel the winter chill. Quickly I formed a plan to continue my journey that night, to warm myself and reach Savannah by first light. I captured some images to share with you, I hope you'll enjoy them as much as I do.

For additional reenacting information go to
Florida Reenactors Online - a website that regularly features some of my photos and articles and where you can find many links, monthly newsletters and many other resources about the American Civil War and reenacting that conflict.