Don Hubbard
August 15, 1943 - December 18, 2003
"I'm thankful that, in a small way Don will live on forever in the films he loved so much.  Goodbye for now Don, we won't forget you."

"I was just getting to know Don but his commitment to field music and field musicians was undeniable... I regret that I didn't get to know him better...
he will be missed."

"A more dedicated field musician will be hard to find. He will be missed mightily."

"God bless Don.  May his spirit always be 'Upon the Heights of Alma.'"

"I won't forget him riding that donkey, or mule, or whatever the hell that animal was at Cedar Creek....  he was, as we say in Na Hampsha, 'a rig and
a half.'  Our hobby will miss him....  he did alot to make it fun, which is as important as being historically correct."

"His devotion to the music (on the field and off) of the War was so well known, not only to us who profited from his organizing the Confederate
musicians at major events, but to the many thousands of spectators at those events who benefited from the demos of bugling and field music he set up
and led.  His selfless dedication to the Field Music School at Ft. Delaware over the past 4 years was a legacy to dozens of drummers, fifers and
buglers in which he will live on.  How will we get on without him?!  I hope someone will convey to his family our sincere condolences and that we are
no less shocked than they.  His sense of humor and organization were unique in my experience.  So whether it be in the guise of his good
Confederate or of his beloved "evil" Yankee twin, we shall all be the poorer for his passing."   

"I got to know Don quite well after he became involved with the 106 PVI and USV HQs.  To know Don was to like him...you couldn't help it."

"A light has gone out in reenacting.  Don was a Virginia Gentleman in the best sense, and gave his time and talent to our hobby for 40 years.  He
personally created and organized the Eastern School of Field Music at Ft Delaware for the last few years.  We will all miss his sense of honorable
behavior and duty."

"Godspeed Bugler, may your soul rest in eternal peace."
Or could the "evil twin" be this Confederate officer?
Was this stern looking Union captain
Don's notorious "evil twin?"
Don at Arlington for a buglers living history, 2001
Lt. Col. Hubbard surveys the musicians under his charge at the Eastern Field Music School, Ft. Delaware, Del., 2001.
Playing percussion with The Federal City Brass Band (and friends),
Remembrance Day, Gettysburg, PA, 2003.
With The Federal City Brass Band (and friends), Remembrance Day,
Gettysburg, PA, 2003, view from the back of the band.
Don portraying Sgt. Borden at Berkeley 100, July 2002.  
Don served as Quartermaster and Chief Musician.
Don sounding his bugle
The ever-present smile. Don's enthusiasm always
showed through, and with Roscoe's help he
managed to keep up his busy schedule at an event.
Camps of Green

NOT alone those camps of white, O soldiers,
When, as order’d forward, after a long march,
Footsore and weary, soon as the light lessen’d, we halted for the night;
Some of us so fatigued, carrying the gun and knapsack, dropping asleep in our tracks;
Others pitching the little tents, and the fires lit up began to sparkle;
Outposts of pickets posted, surrounding, alert through the dark,
And a word provided for countersign, careful for safety;
Till to the call of the drummers at daybreak loudly beating the drums,
We rose up refresh’d, the night and sleep pass’d over, and resumed our journey,
Or proceeded to battle.

Lo! the camps of the tents of green,
Which the days of peace keep filling, and the days of war keep filling,
With a mystic army, (is it too order’d forward? is it too only halting awhile,
Till night and sleep pass over?)

Now in those camps of green—in their tents dotting the world;
In the parents, children, husbands, wives, in them—in the old and young,
Sleeping under the sunlight, sleeping under the moonlight, content and silent there at last,
Behold the mighty bivouac-field, and waiting-camp of all,
Of corps and generals all, and the President over the corps and generals all,
And of each of us, O soldiers, and of each and all in the ranks we fought,
(There without hatred we shall all meet.)

For presently, O soldiers, we too camp in our place in the bivouac-camps of green;
But we need not provide for outposts, nor word for the countersign,
Nor drummer to beat the morning drum.

Walt Whitman (1819–1892)
Leaves of Grass, 1900