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Each page listed below has up to 20 thumbnail photos to click on, so click on a page to discover and relive the event.

Page1 - Colors, Drill
Page2 - Wedding, Battle
Page3 - Saturday Battle
Page4 - Saturday Battle
Page5 - Saturday Battle
Page6 - Camp scenes
Page7 - Camp, Evening Ball
Page8 - Evening Ball, Colors
Page9 - Grand Review, Battle
Page10 - Sunday Battle
Panorama's - Battle Scenes

Brooksville 2008
-Azzit Mightabin-

Had I timed it right - it mightabin a glorius battle for my honor but azzit was - I left for a more welcome place - the battlefield.

In all my travels up till now I have not had calamity to assail my person. True enough I have, from time to time, suffered the same privations as the soldiers when I travel with them. Truthfully I have slept on the none-too-soft bed of Earth more often than I have felt the warm embrace of a straw filled mattress. But I have escaped every trial without wounds, hearty and hale - azzit is said.

Alas a new wound I now have. Without blood, to be sure, but an open wound nonetheless. I now share the fate of all those who have found their homes occupied. On my way home, as I told you before, I heard the rumors that my homestead had been abandoned by Mrs. Mightabin. Upon my arrival I found that my absence had em-brazened a local ne're-do-well with a name of Mr Randall and co., who, with his disrespectful ilk had moved in without asking. He had taken what was once mine and now calls it his own. My choices were to fight the lot of them or to accept fate, move on and live another day.

As I travelled towards the western side of Florida I was in awe of all the lonely folk who, like myself, had lost much. I felt the sadness and destitution of what this conflict has brought to us. Upon reaching a military camp I was not so alone now but I began to feel what I had not felt before. I felt the desperation of the boys as they fought - this time it was near Brooksville. I felt a terror and thrill run through me as two great armies crashed together on a large dry lake-bed. Now wet with the ebbing life of unfinished, young lives, the lake was alive again, alive with the twitching armies as they struggled to destroy each other. Both the soldiers in blue and the boys in butternut are Americans all to a man - but sorely divided by a chasm of idea's and the hot words of over-heated politicians.

Every stolid soldier there was intent on love. Love of his fellow men. Love for the ones he left at home. Love for the ones who fell around. Love for freedom and that right. Love of the awful bitter pill of blood-lust. My eyes have been opened by the Almighty and now I see the similarities clearly - between love and war.

The Union with their ever-present overwhelming numbers seemed to easily sweep the open lake-bed of our southern stalwarts. The remaining Confederates formed into a tight defensive position among the trees that overlooked the body strewn lake as blessed darkness fell and they escaped a certain destruction that day.

In my introspective mood I was sickened by the battle and for the first time in memory I stumbled away - unwilling to see a conclusion. What have we become? What had I become? Willing to lose everything for the thrill of battle? For miles I walked, each step an eternity. I feared the price of our ideals is too dear for us to pay. For many steps I struggled with these questions and a weight of depression.

Suddenly I found myself amidst the light of fires and lanterns. Surrounded, I noticed, by gaiety and music. My feet had walked themselves to a local Ball where the Confederate officers were plenty - matched in number by the swirls of music and colorful gowns that covered quite a few local ladies. I had seen many of these pretty faces before. I had talked with most of them over the years. Now I was struck with the realization that the sad long face I was wearing was utmostly out of place and the only of its kind here to be seen. There was no-one here who would share in my misery. As beaten as I felt, I gave in to the lively spirit and found solace in the frivolity of these beautiful people. I also noticed how much more lovely and appealing the young ladies appeared to me this time. Each one I saw in a new fresh light. As a couple hours passed so did the heavy mantle of sorrow that plagued my mood. Re-assured, I felt alive again. We are not doomed, we are not all full of evilness. We are humans - just doing what The Creator has allowed us to do.

With renewed spirit I left there - eager to rejoin the soldiers and with a new idea of what life is. Life is, I believe, dancing! And I determined to learn and become as proficient as I can.

Azzit mightabin - my newfound spirit must have passed to the Confederates that night - or maybe it was just the addition of heavy re-enforcements. I witnessed another sunrise - and another resounding defeat of the Yankee invaders that next day. I have concluded that I cannot hate the boys who fight, no matter what side they show courage for. I just wish they would go home, or like me, begin anew.

Sincerely,
Azzit M.

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.