Figure 53.1 Hiding from the enemy, Battle of the Bulge reenactment, 1995.
To do it for real, you’d get killed. It’s not like playing tennis, you know. You can play tennis for real and not get hurt. But if you want to try to get a sample of what war was like without getting killed, this is about as close as you’re going to be able to do it.
—Luke Gardner
Reenactors who belong to the twentieth-century war reenacting hobby, which includes the reenactment of World Wars I and II and the Vietnam War, agree wholeheartedly that they can never “relive” the wars of the past. But as the above quote from one reenactor makes clear, they seek a “sample of what war was like.”1 As a group, reenactors share a (usually lifelong) fascination with war. And they share a desire to move beyond the limitations of war portrayals found in books, television, and films. It is only through a three-dimensional, real-time reenactment that they can connect with history in a way that is otherwise unavailable to the passive consumer of the war story.
Reenactors, who belong to units across the United States, participate in a variety of types of public events, such as air shows, parades, and mock battles.2 Such events (dubbed “dog and pony” shows by one reenactor) can be fun, but most reenactors agree that public events are separate and distinct from true reenacting. Some reenactors are reluctant to perform in mock battles staged for the public since they view such events as strictly public entertainment—neither historically accurate nor true reenactments.
The heart of this grassroots hobby lies in the “private event”—a reenactment that usually takes place over the course of a weekend. Held on a variety of sites, from private land to state parks to federal military installations, private events range in size from twenty to well over fifteen hundred participants. Reenactors either camp in the field or make use of onsite cabins or barracks. Most importantly, these events are free from the public gaze. No outsiders or spectators are allowed. Thus, reenactors are free to strive toward one of their primary goals: achieving authenticity both in appearance and in terms of the portrayal of history itself.
Reenactors admit that their hobby is, in a sense, “a game,” and they sometimes jokingly refer to it as “playing army.” But they shy away from treating reenacting as kids’ play. In fact, reenacting is serious business. Through the course of the seven years in which I conducted ethnographic research on reenactors, I learned that while the hobby is a voluntary, and often pleasurable, activity, it is a highly structured undertaking. Despite the fact that it operates without a single official governing body or set of standard rules, reenactments are not only well-organized but they also follow a similar pattern. The ways reenactors shape and experience their private events, the choices they make, the rules they impose, and the debates they engage in reveal just how seriously they approach their pastime; and it is in the setting of the private event that the hobby comes into true light. This is reenacting in its purest form.
Most reenactors drive long distances, their cars and trucks packed with equipment, food, and other gear, to reach a remote site for a private event. There, they join other members of their units, commanded by their “officers.” While each unit employs its own rules and regulations, all reenactors are also subject to the rules and administrative procedures of the event hosts. Safety briefings, planning meetings, and ammo inspections are all essential components of a private event. Event hosts,3 who procure or govern the event site, must secure insurance coverage for events and oversee the registration of participants.
A private event involves various activities: arrival and unpacking; registration; the setting up of camps and barracks; visits to the flea market, where vendors sell militaria; eating and drinking; socializing; and, of course, mock combat.4 Usually, the combat portion of an event takes place over the course of a full day, beginning early in the morning. In World War I events, units take position in their designated trench sectors.5 In World War II events, action is far-ranging. Units and vehicles, if present, are deployed in fields or wooded areas. Vietnam War events are often built around small units patrolling on foot. In all types of events, combat consists of small-scale engagements conducted by individual units or perhaps only several reenactors. And no matter the war being reenacted, participants face the impending action knowing little if anything about what will happen.
During a World War I event, I stole into the French trench sector at nighttime. Flares illuminated no-man’s-land, and I watched in awe as reenactors hurried to and fro, walking ghostlike through the black trenches. When the French commander saw me, he kneeled down and whispered, “Just be careful.” After a dramatic pause, he warned, “You never know what will happen.”
Indeed. I was quite surprised to learn that reenactors do not attempt to replicate actual historic battles in their private events. Unlike a public battle, which is almost always “scripted,” a private battle is “open-ended” or “free-flowing.” This means that soldiers who were historically vanquished in a war, such as the Germans, are not always defeated in a reenactment. “Can the Allies force the German Army out of Italy, or will reinforcements reach Kesselring in time to blunt the Allied advance?” one event announcement asked. “Join us for the Italian Campaign 1998 and find out for yourself!” (Italian Campaign 1998).
Although reenactors may argue that they are “re-creating” history, their battles are designed so that anything essentially can happen. And even though events are given specific historic titles such as “Duel on a Dutch Levee” (based on Operation Market Garden) and “Elbe River” (Eastern Front), they are set only within general historical time frames and locations. “The time frame for this event,” read one event announcement, “is September–October of 1944. The area is eastern France, Belgium or Holland” (Odessa 1997).
These basic time frames and places give reenactors a chance to enact what they call “scenarios”—small- or large-scale dramatic sequences within an overall event itself. “We’re talking about night attacks, individual raids where two or three guys can go out and try and get in the enemy lines,” reenactor Paul Donald said in an interview, describing some of the likely scenarios in a World War I event. “We’re talking about firing machine guns and mortars. … If there’s an attack at the right-hand line they can call up reinforcements from the left-hand line. You can actually go out and set up a scenario where you fake an attack on this end, the enemy draws their reinforcements down there and then you get them at the other end.” Like others, Paul stresses the variety of opportunities reenactors have to take action.
“We are bound,” one World War I reenactor said, “only by our creativity and knowledge of World War I in the creation of our scenarios” (Aylward 1993, 5). Using a combination of creativity and knowledge, reenactors are free to act regardless of history’s actual outcome. (In fact, many reenactors even assert that the word “reenacting” is a misnomer.) What they choose to do in an event is shaped more by their sense of what “could have” happened historically rather than what actually happened in a given time and place.
Reenactors prefer these open-ended battles with only the slightest script used to frame the action, since attempting to replicate historical events is largely viewed as “counterproductive” (Call 1997).6 Ironically, it is only in the absence of a predetermined historical script that they believe they can achieve any degree of authenticity. “Scripted scenarios are okay (if not required) for public events,” one reenactor explained, “but they are the kiss of death for a tactical event” (Tilden 1997). Since reenactments are limited in scope, trying to re-create an actual battle would “cheapen the actual event by presenting a lame-o parody” (Samuel 1997). Thus they design events according to their own capabilities. For example, World War I events lack an important element of real combat of the Western Front: artillery. “Big battles of World War I of course are hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of guns and masses of infantry,” reenactor John Loggia explained in an interview, admitting that reenactors lack those essential components of combat. But he rationalized such a discrepancy, stating, “The kind of sector that we’re portraying is maybe a semi-active one away from where a big battle would be going on.”
Whatever action reenactors decide to take during an event depends less on what happened in history and more on the fact that “sometimes they might want to stir things up and sometimes they don’t,” as John said of his own unit members. The freedom to decide whether to “stir things up” is vital. Commanders may plan an attack or a certain scenario in advance—at one World War I event, the Germans planned a surprise twilight surrender to the Allies en masse—but they don’t inform the enemy of their intent. “I don’t believe in letting the Allies know when we will attack,” one reenactor stated. “This way neither side knows what to expect and it will be more realistic” (Henry 1993, 5).
As much as an event is open-ended, however, reenactors are not supposed to “run around” without a purpose. “You can’t do something and not have any knowledge about it, if you want to do it correctly,” reenactor Fred Legum explained in an interview. “You can’t just go out there and flub about.” Thus, they are expected to “implement the appropriate period tactics for a given situation.” In short, they try to use historically authentic tactics, such as ambushes, trench raids, gas attacks, or tank battles. A lot of reenactors find that having a tactical mission or a plan for a scenario makes the action more interesting. Reenactor Greg Grosshans told me in an interview that this helps them avoid “mindless running around in the woods shooting at one another.” Unit members are also expected to follow orders and pursue assigned objectives. “Being given realistic goals for units of similar size that were actually given to historical units is good,” one reenactor commented. “No one should be out there without orders, but leave the scripts to people on a stage” (Mason 1997).
Aside from performing tactically in period fashion, reenactors are also expected to behave with “some degree of control” (Harris 1999). From being told by event hosts where to park to being told by unit commanders what to wear and carry, event rules and guidelines are profuse, beginning with the inevitable safety inspection. “Remember,” one event announcement instructs, “No pop-up flares, no military grenade or artillery simulators, no shotguns, no weapons with inoperative safeties, no affixed bayonets, no red flares, and no live ammo!” (Duel 1996).7
Next come the rules of engagement: “Do not aim and fire directly at individuals within twenty yards of you. Blanks can be dangerous at close range. If in doubt, aim and fire your weapon straight up, or when in close combat inside the trenches, just yell, Bang!” (Robb 1996, 7). Unit commanders also issue orders regarding period behavior in the field. “Don’t talk about anything anachronistic unless it’s absolutely necessary! (i.e., someone is having a heart attack)” (Gardner 1994).
Even when not in combat, behavior is subject to restrictions: “Please do not stand on the battlefield and become spectators and/or take pictures of your fellow reenactors. [This] distorts what we are trying to accomplish” (Johnson 1996). Finally, they are instructed about more personal conduct: “No use of controlled substances. No disorderly conduct. No drunkenness” (W2HPG).
Figure 53.1 Hiding from the enemy, Battle of the Bulge reenactment, 1995.
While reenactors may be expected to “have respect for the rules” and to conform to safety guidelines, in an open-ended, all-volunteer grassroots hobby, the rules themselves are constantly subject to revision and debate. After all, in a game where participants are “free” to decide their own course of action, determining the limits of that freedom can be complicated. More overtly worded rules (no live ammo) are accompanied by others that are more open to interpretation (i.e., reenactors must “die” when shot). And indeed, a major area of concern is the failure of reenactors to “take hits” (fall to the ground and feign death when “shot”). Another concern is the exercise of authority: “officers,” after all, are either self-appointed or promoted from within individual units, hence the difficulty, at times, of getting reenactors to conform to the wielding of authority from others. Further, while the vast majority agree that they are attempting to portray a “common” or “average” soldier’s war experience (most reenactors portray privates), they must reach some agreement on just what that experience entails. Most agree that they should avoid representing what they consider to be war’s “exceptional” aspects. Luke Gardner’s order to his men that “John Wayne stuff has no place here” underscores the general aversion to rendering war a la the “Hollywood mentality.” Surviving a battle or performing a feat of great heroism is generally frowned upon. “The idea is not so much to kill Germans,” Luke said, “but to avoid being killed yourself” (Gardner 1993). Hiding from the enemy, often more than attacking, consumes a great majority of their time. “We try to put ourselves in the most horrific situation we can and it’s usually trying not to get shot or get spotted, which is what I think a lot of it was,” reenactor Fred Legum explained in an interview. “During war you tried to stay clear and stay hid as much as you can because … you don’t want to be where it’s really hot all the time.”
To be sure, real soldiers try to avoid being killed. But most reenactors think they must suffer and inflict large numbers of casualties—for authenticity’s sake. In the words of a World War I reenactor, “Everybody dies!” Unlike their attempts to control the portrayal of violence in public events, in private they freely and repeatedly kill each other as well as die themselves many times in a single event. “Trigger time”—or combat—lasts until one side or another (or both) is overrun. This might take three hours, or it might take twenty minutes. They then retreat, regroup, and either break for a meal or begin another scenario.
Interspersed within combat scenarios, they spend a good deal of time performing rather mundane activities, such as standing in formation, marching, drilling, assembling equipment, digging foxholes, fortifying trenches, and inevitably, waiting around. They also conduct “noncombat scenarios” such as patrols, wire cutting parties, intelligence missions, and guard duty. They capture prisoners and interrogate them. They write up commanders’ orders. They study maps and captured intelligence. They string out phone lines and operate radio systems. They sit in their camps, bunkers, and trenches. They open lonely soldier packages. They eat, talk, write letters, conduct mail call, and, especially at World War I events, sing. Women reenactors either fight as soldiers or serve alongside units as correspondents. They also serve as nurses and Red Cross and Salvation Army personnel, tending to the wounded, cooking, or knitting. And all reenactors engage in a variety of other activities, such as posing for photographs, bartering at the flea market, and talking with each other about contemporary subjects.
Figure 53.2 View of no-man’s-land from a World War I German post; Great War Association (GWA) site, 1997.
In all types of private events, the same kind of scenarios are replicated over and over. But a reenactment is never complete. No one ever decides, “Well, we successfully re-created the Battle of the Bulge, let’s call it quits.” Instead, an event’s open-ended structure allows for a kind of reenactment of reenactments ad infinitum. One reason for an event’s repetition lies in the fact that they do not enact any specific historical narrative. “We don’t reenact any particular thing,” reenactor Paul Donald said. “But we do re-create a time period and live in it.” Reenactor Hank Lyle explained in an interview: “I think it gives us a chance [to say], okay, this could be anywhere in France, and given the same tools that they had we’re given a chance to explore those bits of history, those time frames, those years.”
Reenactors explore those bits of history using period tools (uniforms, equipment) that provide a tangible link to the past. In doing so, they try “to experience the life of a soldier,” as reenactor Richard Paoletti said in an interview with me, “just an average soldier.” And most are unconcerned with issues beyond the narrow scope of that experience, including victory or defeat. A majority—more than 70 percent—look upon winning in an event as either somewhat unimportant or not important at all.8 Many find winning irrelevant, since their highest standard is not victory but authenticity. “Who cares who wins?” one reenactor asked. “Reliving history should be our number one concern; otherwise we are just expensively dressed paint ballers” (Johnson 1996). Others admit how hard it is to tell who wins a given scenario, since so many die and it’s often so confused. “In every reenactment everyone ends up dying, so to say that one side won a battle and the other side lost is very difficult,” Greg Grosshans explained. “The end of a reenactment is usually just spent recounting different instances in the scenario where one guy shot another guy or you were able to sneak up on someone or, you know, little surprise things.”
Ultimately, these “little surprise things” constitute the substance of the private event. And no detail is too trivial. Haircuts, shoes, language, weight, gender, rifles—these are just some of the details of their portrayal that are ceaselessly and often mercilessly debated. And there, in a sense, the game of reenacting really begins, and its site shifts beyond an event’s physical boundaries. Now, the game is played out over the Internet, the cell phone, and in person as reenactors discuss, debate, and disagree over what precisely constitutes authenticity in terms of defining those details. In many ways, these debates are just as critical to the hobby as is the action in the field.
Figure 53.3 Troops in the woods, Battle of the Bulge reenactment, 1994.
Thus, reenacting proves to be a form of voluntary recreation whose very substance lies in the continuous debate and refinement over the details of the game itself. Because there is no “official” reenacting organization that lays down the rules and enforces them, reenactors must engage in a war, as it were, over defining what precisely constitutes the authenticity of a common soldier’s war experience. Reenactors may have claimed control over the portrayal of the war story by moving it into the realm of their private events, but there, the battle to define the nature of that portrayal has only begun.
A graduate of San Francisco State University, Jenny Thompson has an MA in American Studies from the George Washington University and a PhD in American Studies from the University of Maryland. She has taught courses in American history and culture at the University of Maryland and at Roosevelt University in Chicago. Her work focuses on twentieth- and twenty-first-century American history and culture, the cultural history of American wars, and the history of images. Her publications include War Games: Inside the World of 20th-Century War Reenactors (Smithsonian Books) and My Hut: A Memoir of a YMCA Volunteer in World War I (editor). Her essays and reviews have appeared in various anthologies and publications, including the New York Times. She currently serves as Director of Education at the Evanston History Center and works as a consultant on a variety of public history projects.