Introduction
Refighting the Battle of Shiloh on the wargame table has long been a "pet project" of mine. In Part 1, I recounted the frustration involved with my first attempt at the battle as well as the rekindling of my interest - based in large part, on a third reading of the excellent Daniel text. Using this source in conjunction Featherstone's writing and a number of other references, lead ultimately to the "tinkering with" a very well-written set of miniature rules for the American Civil War: Fire And Fury.
With simplicity as an overriding premise and overall goal, I revised the scale and mechanics of the rules. And, as I changed the scope and content of the rules and rule systems, so too, did I change the historical aspects of that fateful day in April, 1862.
Citing the Featherstone text as inspiration, I allowed for several "Military Possibilities." The primary one being a re-designed plan of attack for the four corps comprising The Army of the Mississippi. Readers may recall the three-pronged advance of the Confederates: the II Corps by way of the Hamburg-Savannah Road; Polk's Corps coming on the field by the Pittsburg-Corinth Road (to be followed at 10:00 a.m. by the Reserve Corps); and Hardee's III Corps approaching from the west, by way of the Purdy-Hamburg Road. The Union forces would adhere, essentially, to their historical disposition in encampments around the field. By simple device of a die roll, it was determined that instead of marching well north and west of the field, Wallace's 3rd Division would arrive on the Hamburg-Savannah Road at 2 in the afternoon. This posed yet another question, in addition to the more than several concerns about revisions to the rules; the use of rosters and unit status markers; the effects of leaders; and what this all meant with respect to simplicity and playability. The question was this: What if the entry point of that road onto the wargame table was not in friendly hands at the time Wallace's Division was supposed to arrive?
6.47 a.m., 22nd Tennessee Regiment, Colonel Russell's Brigade
Corporal Huxton was tired. He had been marching for two hours in the dark and along a road that was little more than muck and mire, due to the rain from the previous night and the numerous cavalry patrols fronting the advance of the army. His feet were wet, too. The two pairs of socks he wore were soaked and it was something of an effort to pull his muddy feet from road that was more like a winding pit for hogs to roll in.
With the rise of the sun, Huxton could more readily make out the backs and heads of those in front of him on the road. The column moved forward, but without any real rhythm. Men marched in relative silence - their thoughts on home or what was at the end of this road, or even the more basic need of rest and dry feet and something to eat. With some frequency, a man would slip and fall and curse. The clanking of the odd tin cup and pot or pan tied to a pack horse only served to remind him of how little he had eaten in the last 12 hours: a few crackers and some jerky was all.
The sudden reports of musket fire to the front of his regiment and the subsequent commands of company officers tightened his relatively empty stomach and quickened his heart. He reinforced the grip he had on his musket and doublechecked his ammunition pouch. The corporal hoped that 34 cartridges would be enough for whatever lay ahead.
As his regiment wheeled to the left off the road and into line over some rough ground, Corporal Huxton caught sight of a blue line in the distance. In the next second, the line was enveloped in smoke and a noise - like the ripping of canvas - assaulted his ears. He marveled for just a moment at the play of the dawning sun on the smoke issuing from the Yankee line. He thought it was almost pretty. In the next moment, he was reminded that it was anything but that. In quick succession, three men fell near his post in the line. One simply grunted and collapsed; a dark red stain on his chest. The other two screamed as a musket ball smashed into a leg or arm. These men fell too, but continued their colorful and loud narrative of the experience.
Huxton's regiment was just one of three that had deployed off the road in the face of this first Union opposition. All three regiments formed up quickly and in succession, returned fire on the blue-coated infantry some 220 yards to their front. The crash of the volleys startled Huxton; the resulting smoke hung heavy around the line as he quickly worked to reload his piece and fire again. The smoke obscured the view of most of the men in gray and brown. Some on the end of the line had a better view of the effect, as did the mounted officers of each regiment.
The blue line had been shredded; many men fell and others ran. Officers tried to restore order to the line, but too much damage had been inflicted. Out-numbered roughly 3 to 1, the Yankees paid dearly for their interference in the advance of this, the van brigade of the First Corps of the Army of the Mississippi.
6:50 a.m., 18th Wisconsin Regiment, Colonel Miller's Brigade
Captain Perkins - dressed in only trousers, boots and shirt - pushed aside the flap of his command tent and stepped out into the chilly morning air. Paying no notice to his company sergeant and the few other men that were standing around a nearby fire, his attention focused to the west, along and up the Purdy-Hamburg Road. From this direction, the Captain could hear the unmistakable sound of musketry. At first, there was just the "pop - pop - pop" of pickets or a small skirmish line. But then, there came a number of organized volleys, rolling with a thunder-like crash across the rough ground to his tent and then further into the Union lines.
"Sergeant O'Reilly! Form the company!" And without waiting for a response, Captain Perkins dashed back into his tent to get his uniform coat, hat and sidearm.
The company sergeant did not need to hear the order twice. He threw his toostrong cup of coffee on the ground and bellowed for the men to get on line. In short order, the regiment's drummers were beating roll and the level of activity in the camp changed from a sleepy, slowly-preparing-for-Sunday-inspection, to one of "controlled panic, " as men - some half-dressed like the Captain and some without muskets - ran to and fro among the tent line. The confusion increased as a mounted aide from the Divisional Commander galloped into camp and shouted for the regiment to get into formation - "The Rebels have attacked our right! To arms! Where is the Colonel?!"
In less than 10 minutes, the confusion was replaced by excitement and anticipation, as the men of the 18th Wisconsin were on line, about 40 yards in front of the regimental camp site. Instead of smoke hanging about the unit, as if it had discharged its weapons, the breath of over 400 men filled the cold air above the 18th. To some distant observer, it may have looked as though some blue-coated creature, with shiny spikes along its spine, was breathing with its entire body and not just its mouth.
To the west, the report of musketry grew in volume and frequency. Watching as the Sergeant dressed the ranks of the company, Captain Perkins loaded his revolver. The sudden "boom" of an artillery piece from the same general direction startled the young Captain, and he dropped two cartridges on the ground.
Shiloh Solo Part 2
Shiloh Solo Part 1
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© Copyright 2003 Hal Thinglum
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