Genealogy and a family trip have made the sacrifices of members of the military and their families more real for me.
I was tasked from the prompt at the end of this essay to write about how finding out something about an ancestor had changed how I view that ancestor. I’m deviating from the script somewhat and instead addressing how expanding my ancestral tree–along with a trip to a historical site–changed how I view world events in general but, specifically, the casualties of war.
During the American Revolution, my 5th great-grandfather Michael Antoine Garoutte (1750-1829), above, fought for the Colonies and lived well after that until the ripe old age of 79; my 5th great-grandfather William Harbison (1747-1782) served in the 3rd South Carolina Regiment. Pictured is a memorial to him and other Revolutionary soldiers of Catholic Presbyterian Church in Blackstock, South Carolina.
During the Civil War, my 3rd great-grandfather John James Paris (1837-1884) fought for the Union Army with the 72nd Regiment of the Missouri Militia; my 2nd great-grandfather James Faris Curry (1842-1921) fought for the Union Army in the 4th Indiana Cavalry and the 145th Indiana Infantry.
Hampton Cemetery
Springfield, Missouri.
in his Union uniform.
A close ancestor, my granduncle Mark Braden Cathcart (1897-1992), the tall soldier in the photo below left, served in World War I. He lived to the age of 94. While our paths did cross a few times, until I started getting interested in genealogy and my mother found this photo for me, I had no idea that he had served in the military.
My paternal grandfather Omar Weldon Laney (1911-1985) served in the Merchant Marines during World War II. He was a man of few words anyway, and I never heard him discuss his wartime service.
with a fellow soldier.
from the Merchant Marines.
I can count on two hands, then, the number of direct ancestors who served in the military. Not one of them died in service to his country. I have come to appreciate how most ancestors in my tree—and others’, presumably—were not nearly as fortunate in escaping the direct effects of war.
In high school, I learned about decisive battles in American History classes and the role each played in the context of the specific war itself. I memorized dates, generals, and key players involved.
As a student, I guess I just accepted that, regretfully, many servicemen had died in defending our country, but that the ends had justified the means. The Civil War ultimately led to advancing the civil rights cause. Important economic and geopolitical concerns were at stake when we entered World War I. By entering World War II, we were protecting our own freedoms, giving aid to allies in Europe, and stopping a genocidal megalomaniac dictator from seizing global power.
While I’m sure that at that time I did think about what it might have been like to have gotten a dreaded telegram from the War Department or the concept of never seeing one’s brother again after he went off to war in his 20s, no one I knew had had this experience. War casualties were more of an abstract concept, I guess you could say. In short, it wasn’t personal.
My sensitivity to the loss of life resulting from war has grown quite a bit since then. And genealogy has played a large role in that.
While a few of my direct ancestors served in the military, I have found hundreds of indirect family members who served in the U.S. military as well as that of the United Kingdom. I have expanded my family tree exponentially over the years and, in doing so, I have found and attached to ancestors’ profiles photos of ancestors in military uniform, military records, photos of headstones from military cemeteries, and ancestry-member-submitted personal wartime stories and histories.
As my tree kept expanding, the sheer volume of ancestors who had served in the military, died for their country, or lost a family member to war made quite an impression upon me. By contrast, I realized that most of my direct ancestors had been extremely fortunate in terms of their not seeing combat at all, not being killed or injured in combat, and/or not experiencing the loss of a family member’s life because of it.
Besides my genealogy research, a visit to Normandy underscored in a powerful way for me the sacrifices made by servicemen and women and the human toll of war.
Our knowledgeable guide set the scene historically for us that morning when we arrived in Caen. After lunch, our small group embarked by van to our first stop: Pointe du Hoc.
We exited the van, and I walked toward the half dozen or so German machine-gun bunkers or “pill boxes” dotting the landscape, most still containing machine guns integrated into the structures with reinforced concrete. I stopped in front of one of them, turned, and then looked out over the English Channel, imagining the first wave of landing craft coming into view about 6:30AM on June 6, 1944.
My eyes then travelled from where I stood at the precipice of the cliff to the beach 100 feet below me, taking in the sheer, vertical cliffs upon which there were no toeholds or means of ascent. Tears sprung to my eyes with the startling realization of the sheer improbability of the success of this operation and how the first wave of landing craft had been sitting ducks.
Our day-long tour ended at the Normandy American Cemetery in Colleville-sur-Mer. The thousands of memorials that I saw stretching before me in perfectly symmetrical lines cemented in my mind in a way no history book could the staggering cost of D-Day and the days that followed.
The sheer volume of headstones made quite an impression of course, but even more revelatory to me was walking among the graves and seeing the dates on the headstones revealing the very young ages of most of those buried there. The idea of all of those young lives cut short and the families that would never see their sons again hit me in a visceral way.
I came home and made the following video to try to capture, at least for myself, what the experience had meant to me and how profoundly I had been affected by what I saw.
The emotional impact of the visit to Normandy combined with my having found so many ancestors–albeit indirect ones–who lost their lives serving in the military prompted me to find ways of honoring some of these ancestors and their families.
I have devoted posts to many of these individuals, often written for Memorial Day. In the process of doing so, I have done much more reading about specific battles and regiments in order to better understand where each of these ancestors had been when he died, to what specific task he had been assigned, and what his military unit’s specific mission had been and how that mission fit into the larger arc of the war itself.
With each ancestor’s military service I have taken a deep dive into, I have learned more about world and American history and military history, particularly that of the Civil War, World War I and World War II.
I have chosen to conclude this essay by highlighting a few ancestors who lost their lives serving their country. Bringing this essay full circle, all of these ancestors fought in Normandy, either on D-Day itself or in the days following.
2nd Lieutenant Robert Lester Mathews (April 15, 1918-June 6, 1944). Age 26.
506th Infantry Parachute Division,”Easy Company.” He and other paratroopers arrived in Normandy about a week before the invasion. He was killed on D-Day.
S. Sgt. Dean Gray Aitken (September 24, 1924-June 12, 1944). Age 19.
United States Army Air Force 705th Squadron, 446th Bombardment Group (Heavy). Nicknamed the “Bungay Buckaroos,” the unit operated from their base in Bungay, Suffolk, England, flying B-24 Liberator heavy bombers, participating in D-Day as well as some of the most significant air operations of the war.
Pvt. Ralph Gerald Daudt (May 13, 1921-June 15, 1944). Age 23.
506th Parachute Infantry 101st Airborne Division. A medic, Gaudt was dropped by parachute behind enemy lines in the early hours of D-Day.
Pfc. Cole L. Blease Plyler (October 2, 1918-June 16, 1944). Age 25.
116th Infantry 29th Division. Plyler was in the first wave to reach Omaha Beach. Missing in action since June 16th, he was declared dead on the 31st.
Capt. John Oderfield French (March 28, 1918-July 9, 1944). Age 26.
22nd Infantry Regiment, 4th Division. French was among those who landed on Utah Beach on D-Day, arriving in the vicinity of Ravenoville, France, by the end of the day.
Pfc. Robert Ernest Plyler (January 23, 1921- July 27, 1944. Age 23.
9th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Division. Plyler was killed in action July 27, 1944 in the vicinity of Saint Jean, France. His regiment arrived in Normandy sometime between June 7th and June 10th. It helped break out from the Normandy beachhead and participated in the fight for Hill 192, a pivotal strongpoint in The Battle of Saint-Lô. His company was in the attack advancing in a dodge row when an enemy machine gun opened up and fired upon the squad of which he was a member. Ernest was hit by machine gun fire and killed instantly.
1st Lieut. Thomas Percy Laney (May 28, 1914-Aug 1, 1944). Age 30.
30th Infantry Division 230th Field Artillery Battalion. Laney was involved in the invasion at Normandy and the push inland. He was serving as a forward observer with the leading elements of the assault battalion when he was wounded in the cheek. He refused evacuation. His radio was knocked out, and before he looked for another radio, he administered first aid to his men. Under intense artillery fire, he ran 500 yards to where another radio was located to direct artillery, sustaining wounds. Missing in action shortly after the Battle of Saint-Lô, he was declared dead on August 1, 1944.
Lieutenant Laney had six brothers, four of whom also served in the war. His brothers all returned home safely and lived many decades following the end of their service.
Written for the 52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks Challenge: Week 36-“More Than a Name.” PROMPT: “I’ve said for ages that our ancestors are more than names on a chart. They were real people with real lives. What is something you’ve found about an ancestor that really made them come alive for you?”
