EPTMore interested parties in my family (on my father's side) than myself have traced our lineage back to 16th century England. For our last name, which is exceedingly common in both England and the US, that is quite a feat. Personally I have little to substantiate this, beyond a rather boring anecdote of a relative of mine relating our family tree to Henry the VII (Doubly BS in my mind, as I constantly hear about various blue blooded claims from other families of European origin). The first record we concretely have of my family is of a minister circa 1620 making the trip from England to the then colonies shortly after the first pilgrims landed. Mostly what we know of him is that his trip was inspired by the same religious persecution as the pilgrims and that he and or the family that he had settled on the east coast in the general Connecticut area. Details are still a bit fuzzy, but hey it was the seventeenth century
To get to the next interesting(ish) bit, We have to skip a bit down the line to 1740 where two of my relatives were soldiers in the American Revolution. We have records of them serving specifically in a unit called The Green Mountain Boys, a Vermont based militia which most famously played a role in the capture of Fort Ticonderoga. Military service, by and large through conscription (we have shit luck in drafts what can I say?), is a pretty regular theme throughout both my mother and father's family history.
From here this particular branch splits in Vermont, with one portion moving to Quebec and the other steadily moving across the plains with the general trend of Manifest Destiny eventually settling in Illinois. The 19th century was rather sparse in details beyond this general movement, but this gives us a bit of time to shift to the other branch of my family until they meet up.
In the earlier bit of the twentieth century, a Norwegian bastard (in the most strict sense of the word), and his Swedish wife, a rather heated marriage for the time as I was told, hopped a boat and headed to the Midwest. Honestly where else would they go? Throw a rock in most parts of the region and you'll hit someone with the surname Anderson, or "insert name-son," for that matter. They set up a farm, which is still running to this day until one of their kids met the local boy of Irish Catholic descent and got hitched, what religious impropriety. Must run in the family.
We are going to pop back to the paternal side for a spell, as we get caught up to World War II. During the early part of the twentieth century both the Quebec side, with whom we've almost completely lost touch, and the Illinois branches did some remarkable things. The former did well in business and politics rising to the heights of the international arena following World War I, without giving away too many potentially identifiable details, I will say that a relative was very near the top of the League of Nations during its brief tenure as a legitimate forum for international politics. Conversely the Illinois side got into print, heading up some of the more reputable state publications in various shapes and forms in the early 20th century.
Illinois did so well in fact that a rather sizable portion of the original University of Chicago is sat rather firmly on land donated by my family. I really should have played that up when I was applying for schools. A son of this branch eventually met the first generation daughter of a family of recent immigrants from the Limerick area of Ireland. Prior to both the marriages of my paternal and maternal grandparents, both men received draft notices for service in World War II and both married their spouses days before shipping out Papua New Guinea.
The maternal grandfather served in the general infantry, and we don't know much about his time. There is a photo album bouncing around my family of some rather unsettling scenes but following the war he refused to speak about it to anyone who didn't serve in the Pacific Theatre during the war. He made it back physically unscathed, though no one really comes out of that unchanged.
My paternal grandfather was dealt advanced reconnaissance. For those who may not be familiar with the duty, his unit was meant to go out in front and scout locations, number of, and gear the Japanese had dug into the landscape of the island. I know more about him, as he left a detailed biography which was lamentably unpublished though I am considering putting up as an e-book in the near future. During his time in the service he contracted Dengue fever, malaria, yellow fever among various other parasites; the platoon would be on patrol for weeks and unable to stock the proper amount of necessary medications. He survived only long enough to catch a million dollar wound which would ensure his safe trip home weighing all of about 90 pounds. The Irish, South Dakotan had an eighth grade education and came out the end of the war a Sergeant, while the Illinois boy of some education (at least high school I am sure), came out same as he went in: Private. This always made me laugh a bit, because though I never met the men myself knowing both sides of my families the snarky, smartasses invariably are of Illinois stock.
The Illinois boy did come out with one amusing story from the war, that is a family favorite of mine. After weeks in combat, the platoon was pulled back to Australia for a bit of rest and relaxation. Not having received their pay for an extended period of time the platoon pooled their money and invested in a hotel which of course came with a full bar. Having no intention or ability to operate the hotel the soldiers drank the bar, stayed at their newly acquired lodging only to sell it hastily prior to returning to combat. I rather resent that, as I wouldn't mind having a hotel to stay in down there.
Too many kids, a bit more than a quarter century later, two more relatives would be pressed into service in Vietnam. One has since passed though made it out the other is rather closed mouthed about it for what I presume to be understandable reasons. Though neither was in combat, the stories I have heard are not pleasant in the least. The most striking one in a few words goes as follows: Jealous boyfriend, "loose," girlfriend, nightclub, white phosphorous grenade (Loose was the term used by the boyfriend, not a qualitative assessment). I've not thought it prudent to ask beyond that.
Some fifty years later most of us are still here, parts of various local histories. Some of which I am proud of, some of which I lament we were made to be party to. I take a good bit of pride in my family history, though its revolving around US military endeavors is unfortunate to say the least. I count myself lucky to be able to go back as far as I can, even being able to locate distant relatives in countries those I am personally acquainted with have long since left.
I would love to read a bit about some of your history as well if you are willing to share in the comments. I have a number of people through the TL community who have shed some light on details I was never particularly privy to; mainly regarding Danish/Scandinavian relations, but I am always looking to learn a bit more. I would also be happy to answer some questions about my family history if you have them.
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