In Remembrance of Veterans Day

Since the French & Indian War (1754-1763) was mentioned above, my numerous "great-great grandfathers and kin" were from Boston area I guess, and went up to the Great Lakes and fought in the war. Returning to the Boston area from the Lakes, they got lost, but found a neat little valley/flat land and decided to settle there, with Bennington, Vermont then being born by the Harwood family. We have donated items from them to the museum there.

 

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Our uncle Ed Case was in F Troop down on the Mexican border during the Punitive Campaign. The after-action report below is the only one I can find regarding F Troop.

My brother Pat and I would ride our bikes to different places and visit. While visiting Uncle Ed we listened to him tell stories about F Troop on the border. This was long before the TV comical series came out. Uncle Ed said that F Troop was a bunch of screw ups and derelicts that were kept away from the fighting. They performed all the menial tasks like KP and cleaning stables. Close comparison to F Troop the TV series.

After-Action Report:

Castleman met Sergeant Michael Fody, who had rallied the lieutenant’s F Troop. Without hesitating, Castleman led F Troop toward the town, where the situation seemed to be most critical. Lucas was also active, joining his machine-gun troop and breaking out all available weapons. The French-made Benet-Mercier machine guns, fed by 30-round stock clips, had a nasty habit of jamming at inopportune moments. Lucas and his men began firing into the darkness, the raiders’ muzzle flashes their only clue to where the enemy might be. The noise of machine guns joined the sharp crack of Springfields and the bark of Mausers. Many raiders were cut down by the machine guns, which fired some 20,000 rounds before the fight was over.

 

My grandfather was born in 1879. Was thrown from a government horse in the Army. Lost his hearing and became a barber. I have his uniforms and 1903 NY barber license. Pic with Grandpa, Grandma and my dad, born 1921 when Grandpa was 41

 

My father joined the the Army the day after FDR’s famous Day that will live in Infamy speech. His 9th Armored Division stopped the German Panzers at the Battle of the Bulge. He stepped on a nail escaping a building that was blown up around him. Wouldn’t leave his unit and take a Purple Heart.
A few months later they came upon a railway bridge that was still standing across the Rhine River. Riding with the lead command group, he grabbed a machine gun and ran 1/4 mile across, dragged the dead Germans off the sandbags, reconfigured it and held the bridge for 2 hours. Remagen. The unit citation given by Dwight Eisenhower sat on our mantle until he passed in 2015 at 93

 

Dad often said that there was a World War I uniform and helmet in the attic of his childhood house on the mountain; I believe he said they belonged to a great-uncle, or maybe a cousin once removed. I've never been in that attic. His two youngest sisters, both in their late 80s, still live in the house. Maybe someday.

Dad served starting in 1946, but before the formally declared end of hostilities, so he was considered a WWII vet. One of his older brothers fought in the Battle of the Bulge, and came back with nerve damage from frostbite and mental wounds from... well, he would never talk about it, only swear at politicians.