From the Past to the Present: Navigating the Transition in Historical Reenactment

I don’t want to generalize, so I’ll speak from my own experience. However, it would be interesting to hear from other reenactors: is it just me, or is it some hard coming back from events?

For me, difficulty returning is measured by the length and complexity of an event. A two hour parade is an easier transition than a five day trip to and from Virginia with two vans of reenacting nerds, three battles, and camping in the rain. Initially, I wanted to call this separation between reenacting and the real world as “The Divide.” I don’t believe that this name does any justice to the matter. So, I’ll try to explain what this separation and transition feels like. Then, maybe we’ll find a name for it.

But first, a preface.

Our Purpose

When it comes down to it, reenacting is a form of education. I consider anyone in the hobby (regardless of time period) to be an educator. We are well versed in multiple facets of the period we study and portray (call us nerds). Most of us can discuss our chosen era’s political, cultural, and economic features. Consider us having a Master’s in History with a focus on (fill in the time period). Our one purpose is to educate the public and showcase history. This may be reenacting specific battles or demonstrating camp life.

If reenacting is first about education, it is secondly about having a good time. As a Civil War reenactor, I want others to see the terrible nature of war to the degree we are able to. We can show the tactics of the period and discuss improvements in technology. But no one would do this hobby if it was 100% depressing. Don’t soldiers find humor where they can?

The “battlefield” is a serious zone. We’re here to portray real events and do them justice. When we “fight,” we follow a chain of command and are highly cognizant of safety. Safety is a top priority. That means elevating muskets to reduce risk to the opposing side. It means not using rammers or paper, which is a reduction in historical accuracy, but safety is paramount.

Around the campfire, you’ll find us commenting on how a battle went, drying out our socks, cooking period rations, or laughing hysterically because we only got an hour of sleep. I know I said I didn’t want to generalize…but in general, we are an approachable group. Ask questions. Feel free to check out our gear with permission. And we are real people, so be nice. Two quick things!

• Yes, that’s a real fire. You probably don’t want to eat what we’re eating, but it is a hot fire.

• No, you can’t hold our weapons. They are real and a liability. But we’ll talk your ear off about them.

The Separation

Let’s discuss the separation of the modern world and reenacting. And by discuss, I mean read what I’ve written, then feel free to reply in the comments. Since I am an American Civil War reenactor, that’s what I’ll focus on. Other reenacting portrayals may have varying levels of separation, but I’ll stick to what I know.

The separation is divided into three parts: time, mindset, and community.

Of course, one of the biggest differences is transporting myself from one time period to another. Let’s say 2024 to 1864 or vice versa. That’s a 160-year time warp. Many events are screen detoxes; my phone stays in the vehicle. The most modern thing on me might be my underwear (I haven’t found a proper pair of period underwear that doesn’t fall down). I enjoy talking with my pards about current events or a hilarious meme, but a lot of what we discuss is related to the Civil War. We might bring up a video we’ve all seen and the next minute be discussing the choices of Ambrose Burnsides throughout the war.

Civil War reenacting is a lot of wool. Wool trousers, wool sack coats, wool socks, wool hat. Civil War reenacting is placing yourself in the mindset of a soldier or civilian. There’s a shift that requires different parts of your brain. Today, we don’t need to start fires, set up tents, cook over said fire, or think about keeping ourselves dry-ish. At a reenactment, I am more creative, self-reliant, and critically thinking. In some regard, I feel more comfortable in 1864. That’s not to say I’d have enjoyed actually being shot at or getting dysentery, but reenacting is a mindset and I enjoy it.

The final part of separation is the community of reenacting. This hobby brings in all sorts of people: lawyers, postmen, sales executives, skilled laborers, teachers, biologists, students, creatives, etc. I may see someone once a year, or a few times during the summer. Despite the few times we interact, I sometimes feel closer to these folks than the friends I see weekly. We are bonded by our shared interest, even if it’s the only thing we have in common.

I have a few reenacting friends I see regularly, but most I only see in the summer and they are still good friends in my book. There’s something about waking up at three in the morning to find four other mates chatting away by candlelight while rain pools where my head was. There’s something about being so tired that the stupidest joke makes me laugh hysterically. Is that a post to happen? (See what I did there? A post. Supposed!)

Transitioning In

It’s much easier to slide from the present day into the past. For me, the transition is as quick as it takes to change my t-shirt and shorts for a plaid shirt and wool trousers. I swap out my glasses for period spectacles and I am slipping into another dimension. It’s just the time change aspect at first. Everyone is wearing wool. It takes a little longer to change the mindset and feel connected with the community. For the duration of the event, work and stress disappear.

The biggest dip into the past is usually around the battle scenarios. That’s when we all focus and listen for orders. At this point, we’ve spent some time together in camp chatting and laughing. Our tents have been pitched and most of us have had some coffee brewed over the fire. So when the “fight” kicks off, we’re itching for it. Again, I don’t think anyone enjoys being shot at. The community aspect has been built up.

During some events, not all, there’s a period or two when I do feel I’m a private in the Union Army. These “in the zone” moments occur when my mind is cleared of everything modern. An example might be right before our first volley. We’re marching in towards the Confederates. The Captain is yelling “Steady, lads!” A few cannons boom ahead of us. The line bows in the center. “Tighten it up, boys!” the First Sergeant calls out. And then we see the Confederates – the “enemy.” And for the briefest of moments, it feels real.

But then we shoot blanks.

And the moment is over. “In the zones” are punctual. One moment you are simply a reenactor in a line of reenactors moving towards another line of reenactors with spectators a hundred yards away. Then, for an instant, it’s real. I anticipate half of my company becoming casualties. I even await my own dismal fate. And then I’m back to being a reenactor.

Transitioning Out

The more difficult transition is from the past into the current day. It’s not as easy as changing clothes. Honestly, even after I’ve returned home, it takes a day or two to feel up to everyday activities. My mind fights it. I enjoy the people I share this hobby with. It’s much more simple and straightforward to settle into a camp, cook, sleep, fight, repeat. Returning to life means taxes and work, grocery shopping and laundry, appointments and keeping up with people.

I enjoy life and I’ve got few complaints, but it takes effort to time travel. Modern life takes a different set of skills, a completely different mindset. I need a to-do list and a calendar to keep track of everything these days. As a reenactor, I eat when I’m hungry; I sleep when I’m tired; I “fight” when I’m told to; and I enjoy time with friends.

One thing that helps in the transition is listening to contemporary music. I tell myself that I’ll listen to Civil War music while I clean my rifle. And when I’m oiling up the last working bits, I switch to something modern and that signals to my brain that I’m in the modern world again. Anyone else have tips for a smooth transition back?

Think of the transition as changing seasons. It seems that leaves fall from trees much quicker than they return. It’s much easier to fall back in time than it is to return. Returning is running against 40mph winds. One last metaphor: Going back in time is sledding down a hill; coming back is the trek up the hill before your next sled run. (Any living historians have slick metaphors for this?)

A Name?

I have those metaphors now, which change my thoughts on this closing bit. Before the metaphors, I pictured the transition as a black hole. The transition is a voluntary step into this dark pit that takes hold of every molecule of my being and just slightly alters me (more internal than external). Unlike black holes, I know where I’ll end up. So maybe a black hole isn’t a solid description.

It would be simple to call it “The Transition,” but does that explain it at all? “The Separation” is good too. Maybe that’s how I’ll refer to it: “The Separation.” It has a certain appeal, reflecting the many differences in time periods. The name is a little harsh, but so is the jump back to reality.

In the end, “The Separation” is a deeply personal and transformative experience. It serves as a reminder of the power of immersion in history and the impact it has. Jumping back and forth between time periods is difficult, but it offers an opportunity. I’m able to appreciate a small portion of what the people I represent went through. Representing might be a stretch – I wasn’t an elected representative. But I’m working to honor and reflect them…that’s a better phrase: the people I reflect on. It is a journey of discovery, education, and camaraderie.

As I return to modern life, I carry the lessons learned as a reenactor. I am reminded of the trials and tribulations of a generation molded by one of the darkest chapters of American history.

Please share your thoughts in the comments. I’m especially curious if any other living historians/reenactors are in a similar situation.