Ray Mathews

January 19, 2010

The 2nd U.S. Cavalry Co. A mourns the passing of our beloved friend, Ray Mathews. Ray was a teacher and a mentor on many matters in life, but especially on how to conduct oneself. The Dragoons of the 2nd U.S. Cavalry mourn his passing, but we rejoice in the memory of his life.

Keith Foor

April 25, 1963 - July 19, 2013

Boston Cream Pie (aka Toman)

I lost Toman, my Kiger mustang, this past summer of 2021. He is very much missed.

~ Tpr. Drewry

Pepper

With a heavy heart, I relay the news that on 18 May 2021, Pepper, our trusted Cavalry mount, passed on to Fiddler’s Green. His 38-year career included Barrel Racing, Dressage, and Hunter Jumper before stepping onto the Cavalry field in 2004. He was the trusted mount of my son Jackson and later introduced countless troopers to the hobby. Pepper was an Arab, ridden by many and beloved by all. He will be missed until we meet again, my friend!

~Trooper Mark

Lorandi

Lorandi was laid to rest on February 20, 2019, at 39. He was my first re-enacting horse. Another piece of my heart has crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

~ Trooper Amos

Yankee

With sadness I report that L'il Mike's trusted mount Yankee moved on to greener pastures on February 15, 2016. Yankee retired from reenacting two summers ago after Trevilian Station. We praise God for the pleasure of owning this rock-solid cavalry and family-friendly Tennessee Walker and for his faithfulness to Michaela, his owner Mary, and the 2nd US Cavalry Co. A. He was 26 years old.

~ Tpr Tom Helsel

Root Beer

On 11 October 2015, we lost a rock-solid member of 2nd U.S. Cavalry Co. A when Root Beer went to Fiddler's Green. Rooty served in the Company longer than most. He was the War Horse of Sgt. Ray Mathews, Trooper Dan Detwiler, and most recently Trooper David Miller. His root beer-colored mustache made us chuckle, and his one blind eye never held him back. Would that all horses were as calm, level-headed, brave, and tolerant as he. Goodbye, my teacher and my friend. Rooty was 28.

~ Tpr Dave Miller

Dumb Heros

Dumb Heroes
Written near Ypres, 1916

There's a D.S.O. for the Colonel, 
A Military Cross for the Sub, 
A Medal or two when we all get through, 
And a bottle of wine with our grub. 

There's a stripe of gold for the wounded, 
A rest by the bright sea-shore, 
And a service is read when we bury our dead, 
Then our country has one hero more. 

But what of our poor dumb heroes, 
That are sent without choice to the fight, 
That strain at the load on the shell-swept road 
As they take up the rations at night? 

They are shelling on Hell Fire corner, 
their shrapnel fast burst o'er the square, 
And the bullets drum as the transports come 
With the food for the soldiers there. 

The halt till the shelling is over, 
The rush through the line of fire, 
The glaring light in the dead of night, 
And the terrible sights in the rear: 

It's the daily work of the horses, 
And they answer the spur and rein, 
With quickened breath 'mid the toll of death 
In the mud and the holes and the rain. 

There's a fresh-healed wound on the chestnut, 
The black mare's neck has a mark, 
The brown mules now mute, most keep the same gait, 
As the one killed last night in the dark. 

But they walk with the spirit of heroes. 
They dare not for medals or cross, 
But for duty alone, into perils unknown 
They go, never counting their loss. 

There's a swift, painless death for the hopeless, 
With a grave in a shell-hole or field, 
There's a hospital base for the casualty case, 
And a vet. for those easily healed : 

But there's never a shadow of glory, 
A cheer or a speech in their praise, 
As patient and true they carry us through 
With the limbers on shot-riven ways. 

So here's to dumb heroes of Britain 
Who serve her as nobly and true 
As the best of her sons, 'mid the roar of the guns, 
And the best of her boys on the blue. 

They are shell-shocked, they're bruised, and they're broken, 
They are wounded and torn as they fall, 
But they're true and they're brave to the very grave, 
And they're heroes one and all.

T.A. Grilling