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Desert Tracks: The U.S. Army’s Forgotten Camel Corps

  • 10 hours ago
  • 4 min read

 

Between the book ends we know today as the Republic of Texas and the Civil War lies the dog-eared and faded novella of early statehood, the Antebellum Era of Texas. Although typically measured by the rise of abolition and polarization of the country, the mid-1800’s was also a time of invention and innovation - a new spirit was stirring. While the eastern US navigated a second wave of industrial revolution, the western lands remained wild and unfenced.

 

But “there’s gold in them thar hills,” as the saying goes. Westward expansion was imminent, and in Texas, just ten short years after becoming a state, a series of army forts were forming to protect settlers traveling an undomesticated and unpaved stretch of hostile desert land. A difficult journey for any horse, mule or man, especially those laden with supplies. It was no different for the US Army.

 

Enter the camel - an animal known for its desert prowess, strength and longevity, its ability to travel for days without water in sweltering heat. An animal, which seemed perfectly evolved for the rough dry terrain of the American west and Jefferson Davis, then US Secretary of War, agreed.

 

So, in February of 1856, with the help of the US Navy, a Maj. Henry Wayne and his crew left the shores of Smyrna, Turkey for the long trek across the Atlantic back to Indianola. An 87-day trip through stormy waters with a cargo of 33 camels, to commence an experiment that we now know as the US Army Camel Corps.

 

Post-arrival the camels were stabled at Camp Verde, north of Bandera, then eventually dispatched westward through the Big Bend region, across the territories of southern New Mexico and Arizona, and later to Fort Tejon, California.

 

Although the camel’s use as a military animal goes way back, to a time before the western world even existed, the US Army quickly settled on using the ungulates for transport and not warfare. It was a quartermaster’s dream. Camels were not only easier to feed and water, but outperformed the typical mule in load capacity, and could do so over longer distances. Within eight short months, Maj. Wayne was convinced, “The usefulness of the camel in the interior of the country is no longer a question here in Texas…” he recorded in his subsequent report to Davis.

 

But alas, they did not see the future coming. While Maj. Wayne predicted it would take 10 years to establish the camels and prove their value, only three and a half short years later, the Civil War consumed both the country’s funds and interests. By the end of the war, expansion of the railroad eliminated the need for camels entirely and their reign of the southwest ended.

 

Today, only faded images of the great camel experiment remain. A smattering of documents and photos spread across the historic forts and outposts of the west - but one native Texan is working to keep their memory alive, and that man is Doug Baum.

 

Doug and his camels, 10-year-old Daleel and 13-year-old Jadid, are easy to spot across the grassy parade ground of Historic Fort Davis. Doug is dressed in traditional 1850’s uniform, Daleel in the style of north Arabian camel saddles, Jadid stands unadorned – ‘au naturel’ - all of them, however, are draped in the wide-eyed wonder of both children and adults alike. Doug answers questions with un-ending patience while the camels carry on chewing and regurgitating unfazed, clearly used to the attention. When the crowds quiet, Doug and I take both animals for a stroll.

 

“I suspect it might have been a bit of a stopgap for Jefferson, a way to bridge time between the existing eastern railroad and its eventual westward advancement.” Doug replies to my question on why the experiment commenced and ended when it did. “It wasn’t a failure; camels were brought here to carry things and carry things they did. There are stories about the soldiers not liking or accepting the camels, but soldiers are there to do a job and they’ll do that job regardless.”

 

We pause near some overgrown brush for a quick snack, “Oak and Hackberry are their favorites,” he says with warmth, one hand on Jadid’s girth. Pride is not the right word to describe the energy I sense in Doug, there is no ego here. There is only affection and respect for these animals, for the impact they’ve had on his life, for the patience they’ve taught him  - their bond runs deep.

 

In today’s world, when animals are symbiotic companions, it’s difficult to imagine any of our four-legged friends being tools of the trade as they were in the 19th century. But in the Arab countries, camels always were, and still are today, more than a means to an end. In such a harsh desert environment they are survival, and much like the western horse to the cowboy, the dog to his owner, the camel is family.

 

As the day ends and the overtones of a bugle echo across the grounds, Doug invites me to help lead the camels to the trailer. Both are eager to move and once inside quickly spin around, positioning themselves for the ride home. At Doug’s encouraging I step in to unclip lead ropes, and for a moment, standing between these two scraggy beasts who tower over me, I’m aware of a certain closeness. A quiet intimacy paired with raw vulnerability, a connection to something larger than myself.

 

Camel. Camello. Kamel. Gamal. Ship of the Desert. Whatever you call it, in the camel we find a sense of stability, of faith and trust, and in the Camel Corps experiment an inherent reminder to think outside the box, to pace ourselves in this in this ever-changing world. After all, life really is a journey, not a race.


 


To learn more, or see Doug, Daleel and Jadid in action, check out texascamelcorps.com or follow The US Army Camel Experiment on Facebook.

 


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