Circling back to last night at Camp Manassas ...
I camped with Confederate cavalry reenactors last night and they set me up in a pup tent, much like those used by the common soldier during the
war. The tents were made of two sheets of canvas, both provided by the soldier himself, who would button them together to make a small structure that would fit two.
A saber and a cotton shirt hung from the wood pole at the front of my tent; a bale of hay served as my sofa.
The comforter and pillows weren’t authentic and I suppose I should have slept on straw and a tarp, but the reenactors made an exception. (There wasn’t all that much hay around anyway.)
About 30 feet away from me were five horses tied to a picket line. My tent smelled strongly of petting zoo. Having sweated all day and not showered it was about to get a whiff of locker room.
After a long day. I finally got to remove my boots, which were wooden and uncomfortable. I peeled from my vest and ignored the wet T-shirt that was my closest thing to air conditioning. I heard the horses munching on hay.
I fell asleep listening to them and clattering sabers as reenactors arrived for the night.
Then in the middle of the night I jumped awake. Something out of my tent startled me. It was a whinnying horse. That’s one alarm clock this city slicker has never had before.