Huzzah!

The Fourth Continental Light Dragoons had a beautiful sunny weekend for their encampment at Primitive Hall, and the Hillendale Cub Scouts and lots of other history buffs, local folks, children and photographers stopped by to watch and gain a new appreciation for our Revolutionary War soldiers.
It was so amusing watching the kids practice drilling with wooden pretend muskets under the direction of the Dragoon's commander, Bill Ochester. And when the soldiers were firing their muskets and demonstrating how they would've operated in battle, even the high-energy Cub Scouts stopped racing around and watched with rapt attention.

"No, we don't use real bullets," deadpanned Ochester. "There would be a lot fewer re-enactors if we did."
A few women accompanied the soldiers, and they were busy sewing and roasting a turkey on a spit over a campfire. The turkey was blackened on one side; the cook said ruefully that it caught on fire early in the proceedings.
The officers held a mock court-martial for one soldier who provided alcoholic beverages to the troops, above and beyond their ration. The unfortunate soldier, who hammed it up to the hilt, was found guilty after a brief, no-nonsense trial inside the Hall. His sentence was to run the gantlet, being smacked by each of his comrades, then undergo 12 lashes, and then -- dreadful! -- be demoted to the infantry. "Which is a fate worse than death," the commander informed him matter-of-factly.
His parting words as he was hauled off: "Could I have some rum?"
(Photo courtesy of Tilda's sister-in-law.)