Memorial Day Contest

[DeletedUser40162]

Rear Admiral Louis Waite Perkins, United States Coast Guard

During the Second World War my grandfather, Commander Perkins, was Captain of the 13,529 ton attack transport USS Hunter Liggett (AP-27, later APA-14). The Hunter Liggett served as the flagship for several amphibious operations in the Pacific Theater. She carried the marines who made the first landings on Guadalcanal Island. The Hunter Liggett also participated in the landings on Tulagi and Bougainville and rescued hundreds of sailors from the sea after their ships were sunk at the Battle of Savo Island.

USS Hunter Liggett (APA-14)

One of her crew, signalman 1 Douglas Albert Munro, was posthumously decorated with the Medal of Honor for an act of "extraordinary heroism" during the battle for Guadalcanal. He is the only person to have ever received the Medal of Honor for actions performed during service in the United States Coast Guard.

SM 1 Douglas Albert Munro

My much-storied grandfather was a noted knot tier and master of marlinspike seamanship. During Japanese air attacks he would sit calmly on his bridge tying intricate Turk’s heads while directing the carnage of battle occurring all around him. His composed bearing and imperturbability gave reassurance to his crew. Once, when notified of “Fire in the engine room!” he coolly retorted, “Put it out.” and they did. Called “Perky” by the most daring of his peers, he was greatly admired by all who knew him.

My grandfather abhorred idleness, especially in children, and inspired me to take up an interest in hobbies and pursue them with passion.

 

[DeletedUser40415]

In Memory of "Robert"
If love could perform miracles, If tears could awaken the dead, The foreign earth of a distant land Would not be blanketing you “Most touching Words” from Mutti, December 1942

His story:

In the late 1700's - Lower class German families, were sent to Poland in order to "Occupy" and create habitant colonies - For a little over one hundred years these early GERPOL's were content in Poland to just raise their families and survive. Poland was ravished over the years by war - Both by the Germans on the West and Russia on the East. The GERPOL's were often caught in the middle, not knowing where they belonged.

By the time the second world war broke out, many GERPOL's were settled and established as Polish citizens. Robert was the son of a GERPOL father and a Jewish mother. Early In 1939, Robert and his younger sister lost their mother to an undisclosed illness. This then left their father in a difficult situation knowing that "war" was now inevitable. To protect his children, the father went to Germany in order to establish a home for his children there, and away from the heated battle fronts. Or so he thought......

The father took his daughter with him to Germany, leaving Robert in Poland to care for their family home while another home could be found.

They were on foot, and it was a long and very difficult journey. At some point before reaching Germany, the father and his daughter were captured by German soldiers and taken as prisoners of war. Robert, who was still in Poland was arrested. He was notified that his father and sister were also being held as prisoners in Germany.

There was a catch though. If he joined the Germans and were to fight for them against the Russians, then his family would not be executed. Not much of a choice. So to the Eastern front he went, really by force and not by choice. Robert was never heard from again.....

In 1942 - it was written

If love could perform miracles, If tears could awaken the dead, The foreign earth of a distant land Would not be blanketing you “Most touching Words” from Mutti, December 1942

Today, the descendants of Mutti (Robert's younger sister) live in the US -
War has many faces, and for those that survived, few wanted to tell their stories for the horror was just too difficult - Robert's story is one that our family spent many years researching. So today, we can share with you.....

 

[DeletedUser38481]

This is not about one that died but one that lived. I was stationed onboard the USS Iowa BB-61 and my GQ station was in one of 18" turrets. I was onboard from Feb. 1986 to Aug. 1988. The following April there was an explosion in that turret that killed many sailors most of whom were my friends but by the grace of God I was not there and lived to remember their sacrifice. R.I.P. to all the military members who paid the price for our freedom.

 

[DeletedUser40426]

I'm from El Savador in Central America. One year later the peace was signed in by my government and the guerrilla, I got into the military school. I needed to be there to crown my goal of becoming a military pilot. During my training, I learn personal defense and don't be overwhelmed by surrounding firing. We learned to be proud of our roots and defend it even with our lives.

I'm was not required to be at war any more, but I lived the struggle to go back to society. Became in someone hard to deal with and not easy on going person. I started to feel frustrated and looked for help. Now with 45 years old, I can say that I recovered a better personality, someone that that people likes to be again, but couldn't be with someone as couple, I've accepted but still trying.

Thank you for your time reading this.

 

[DeletedUser40427]

My Brother received the Gold Star for his services during the Gulf War. My uncle was a Sargent in the Army during the Vietnam War. I can remember my brother sending me a letter that took him a week to write due to mortar shells going off around them. He came home for my dad's funeral. My uncle passed away when I was only 8 years old so I didn't get to know him. God bless all the Men and Women who serve our Country. Thank you

 

[DeletedUser27694]

Lester "Cleo" McGinnis II was born on November 14, 1947.
I knew him during our school days, through my older brother
He was drafted into the Army and served during the Vietnam War.
He began his tour on April 5, 1968.
His occupation or specialty was Infantry Indirect Fire Crewman.
He served with the 9th Infantry Division, 6th Battalion, 31st Infantry, D Company.

McGinnis experienced a traumatic event which resulted in loss of life on October 18, 1968.
He died through hostile action, small arms fire, South Vietnam, Dinh Tuong province.
Cleo was 20 years old.

Lester is honored on the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial in Washington DC.
Panel 41w, Line 74.

 

[DeletedUser34517]

My cousin, Steve Gomez, a sergeant in the U.S. Army, born in 1948, served and died for his country in South Vietnam. He was ambushed and killed by hostile forces in Tam Ky, South Vietnam, in 1968. He was survived by his mother and father, Al, a WW II veteran who served under Patton during the invasion of Sicily. He is honored on Panel 68W, LINE 1 of the Vietnam War Memorial Wall.

 

[DeletedUser40424]

It was Jan 17, 1991 Operation Desert Storm. Multiple B-52's were part of a massive air strike in Iraq. Two B-52's were struck by Iraqi missiles and one was struck accidentally by a US missile. All 3 of those aircraft landed safely, but another combat aircraft would not be so lucky. It was the middle of the night and they were returning to their deployed base, a small island in the Indian Ocean. They were descending for an approach to the airfield when they suffered a complete electrical failure. In the dark, over the water, and low in altitude the aircraft became uncontrollable. The crew ejected from the aircraft. Three ejected up and the bombider and navigator ejected down. The copilot and electronic warfare officer died. This was the only B-52 crewmen to have died in Desert Storm, and it was devastating to the entire community. We still honor them to this day.

 

[DeletedUser40428]

My mother told me a story I'd never heard before when I was 12. My grandmother went to Iowa to help her sister, who was dying, and to help her sister's husband who was unable to manage at that time. My great aunt continued to decline, and while spending so much time together and sharing love and grief, my great uncle and grandmother got very close. They fell in love. My grandmother got pregnant. My great aunt got better and eventually was right as rain. She and my great uncle adopted the baby from my grandmother. In those days, an unwed mother was unlikely to be treated decently and even less likely to find a partner for marriage. My grandmother subsequently married my grandfather and gave birth to my mother. My uncle disguised to all as my second cousin, was shot down and perished in that horrible war. They are all horrible wars. My mother said when she heard this she cried for a long time. She barely knew this man, but was aware he was really her brother, and had mixed feelings about that right up until that moment. I lost my uncle, having never met or gotten to know him.

 

[DeletedUser31336]

My uncle Bob was a tail gunner in one of those Glass Domes under the tail of a B-29 headed for a mission, well according to records given to us, they were attacked by fighter jets, a bomber verses a fighter is a no contest. He was shot down in the Pacific, (I think) and never to be heard from again. A Purple Heart was given to his Mother, she passed it onto me in her later years, now I have given it to my son for It should be cherished. Both my sons served, both came home safe, Thank God

 

[DeletedUser40422]

i can write about any number of family and friends because ancestors came to this country from ireland in the late 1600's. my ancestors have fought in most of the wars from revolutionary to vietnam this country has been involved in. my fathers father fought in world war I came back and became a boston police officer and when world war II started re-enlisted to fight again. my fathers brother would be stationed in japan at the end of world war II.

but i think i will write about my mothers brother. my mother and uncle augustin were first generation born in this country, their parents having been immigrants from the azores (islands off the coast of portugal.

augustin as a young man fresh out of high school when the usa engaged in world war II heard the call to defend his country and it's allies against the tyranny of nazi germany. he joined the army and was shipped over to europe. he would be one of the lucky that would come back home in one piece. he would continue to stay in the army after coming home.

when the korean war started he would be shipped off to fight. sadly 6 months in he would be killed in battle. his body would be laid to rest at the presidio in san francisco. every visit to san francisco always the first stop would be to my uncles gravesite to place flowers and say prayers for him and all the fallen soldiers buried there.

 

[DeletedUser40429]

Although this does not really meet what you are asking for I believe that indirectly does apply.

This is for all to think on and remember in Gratitude to our Veterans, and remember not all of our Veterans served in the military especially during World War II, there are many that should be called Veterans from that era, The men and women that stayed behind building those Aircraft, making the Ammunition the Welders that built the Ship for the Navy to replace those that were lost at Pearl Harbor ,some were crippled but wanted to help however they could some were master Welders that the Navy needed some of them were wives that went to work with their husbands as their helpers. All of these people earned the right to be called Veteran not because they served in the military but because they could not serve for reasons beyond their control so they did what they could to help the war effort. Remember this as you read the following. I read something similar to this and could not find it but wanted to post my version for all to see.





Written in Memory of

CMSgt Hubert Arthur Harris my father

CMSgt Glen Roy Harris my Uncle

SRA Dennis Wayne Cason my Step-Brother

SRA Deborah Ann (Baker) Sandquist my half Sister

CPL Ronnie Gene Turner my Brother-In-Law

CPL Loyll Norwood my Great Uncle

AMN Jarrell (Doc) Cox My Uncle

Ronald Wayne Harris my Brother-In-Law





I am adding the names of two more people to this list that although by the proper definition of the word Veteran they do not qualify but by their actions starting on Dec 8, 1941 I believe they do qualify as do all of those that stayed behind to support the WAR Effort



Paul Harris Welder Navel Shipyard SanDiago, CA, My Grand-Father

Buelah (Norword) Harris Welders Helper Navel Shipyard SanDiago, CA, My Grand-Mother







Dedicated to all Veterans of all Wars both Dead (God rest their Souls) and still Alive.



A Veteran Has Died Today



What is a Veteran, A veteran us a Grand-Mother, a Grand-Father, a Mother, a Father, A Aunt, a Uncle, a Sister, a Brother, a Cousin, a Niece, a Nephew, a Daughter, a Son or just a friend.



What do they do in life, they are Ditch Diggers, Nurses, Doctors, Lawyers, Judges, Politicians, Equipment Operators, Electricians, Short-Order-Cooks, Cashiers, Truck Drivers to name a few but they do many jobs.



A Veteran is one of those people who serve in this great Countries Military with Pride and Honor, with full forethought of what they are doing and never question if they made the right decision no matter who may oppose or disagree with their service to their country because they love their country and their God.



They serve to protect the Freedom of all in this great country both yours and mine, and they serve knowing full well that they may die in that service.



Many are added to the roles of Veteran each day. But today a Veteran has Died, Remember them not only for who they were but for what they stood for and believed in.



REMEMBER

A VETERAN HAS DIED TODAY



Written in Honor of my Father Hubert Arthur Harris

Written in November 2003 after his Death

By Hubert Dale Harris Tsgt Retired

United States Air Force

 

[DeletedUser40406]

I was a 3806 in the USN. Trumpet player for the Navy Band.

I was chosen to play Taps over the USS Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor, on December 7th, 1987.

For those of you who are too young to know, that is memorialized as Pearl Harbor Remembrance day.

It is something that I have been proud about for over 30 years. Not many people can claim that privilege.

It was my honor to participate.

Tim

 

[DeletedUser40420]

This is the story of my grandfather who died in WWII.

He was born in a terribly poor family, with 10 other siblings. Ever since the age of 10 he’s wanted to get his family out of poverty and for them to live comfortably, so he worked day and night at the local grocery store. He would not go home until 2:00 in the morning, then woke up at 5:00 in the morning to do it all again. By the age of 19 Japan had bombed Pearl Harbor, meaning USA was going to be involved in the war. My grandpa saw an opportunity in this to finally not only help his family, but his country. He signed up for military training almost right away. His family was fearful for losing him, but he told them not to worry, he promised he would bring himself back, and money. He went into training for 6 weeks, then went off to storm the beaches of Normandy. He huddled in his tiny boat with 10 other soldiers when all of a sudden they were fired upon. The boat exploded and he was thrown into the water. Flames roared above him while he climbed to shore. He quickly ran to cover as bullets rained around him. He crouched with another soldier. The soldier beside him peaks to the side of the rock and gets shot in the leg. My grandpa fills up with rage and walks out of cover while firing bullets at the enemy. Someone from the front line shoots him in the leg, but he still trudged further, taking down more bullets. He took another bullet to the chest, and was knocked backwards by the blow. As he lay on the ground in excruciating pain, his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered the promise he made to his family, how he would come back. He will not go out like this he thought, then crawled forward to the front line, determined to not fail his family. He was able to pass the barrier with no one paying attention to him. He took down many of the enemy soldiers that were firing on his fellow soldiers, saving many of them. The final bullet that killed him hit him in the heart, and he closed his eyes one final time.

The reason my family knows of this story is because the other soldier who was shot in the leg told his parents at the end of the war. Although my grandpa may be in the stars, his story will live on, and he will be remembered as a hero to his country.

 

[DeletedUser36887]

SP4 Jorge Delgado was our unit's armorer. He was a Mexican national, not a US citizen which was fairly common for our unit. He was a very hard, conscientious, diligent worker and was responsible for all our unit's weapons of which he and I had to conduct 27 mutual inspections of, a week. One day Delgado came to me with a problem (which he had never done before). Seems he had imported his new family of 6 without proper documentation and the INS had ordered their deportation, which was imminent. He didn't know where to turn. Nor did I. But seems an older grizzled Warrant Officer whom I consulted knew. And soon he had Senator "Scoop" Jackson (D-WA) and his staff involved. As it came down, Sen Jackson would intervene and halt the deportation so long as Delgado would sign a statement saying he didn't know he was violating US law. Rejoicing at our success I hurried to tell Delgado of the news.
Delgado looked forlorn at my hearty glee. He said "but I did know I was violating the law. And my wife comes from the Yucatan, 6,000 miles away and our car will never make the round trip". "But," I interjected, "just a signature will let your new family stay".
Delgado looked me in the eye and said "So it would be ok if I lied to you on a weapons inspection too?" He steadfastly refused to compromise his integrity no matter what the personal cost. My pride is his honesty knew no boundaries.

It was surprising just how authentic Delgado's forged signature looked. Sometimes leadership must trump bureaucracy.

 

[justcantwin]

He couldn't tell anyone, but he was frightened. It was dark. It wasn't hot, but sweat was running down his body. That sour smelling sweat of fear. Luckily the guys in the unit were spaced every 6 feet or so and the others couldn't the shivers that wracked his body. His unit had come on duty at sundown and would not be relieved until it got light again. The fear grew as it got darker. The enemy came out at night. The unit was told to hold their positions and give no ground. It was their first night as a functioning unit. Most had just arrived in country. He wanted with all his heart to discover that it was just a nightmare and to awaken in his own bed. He new it was real though, no nightmare lasted this long. Finally, as the weak daylight finally began to penetrate the much too long darkness, he noticed the guy from Ohio who had started the night to his left was gone, no body, just blood and some broken branches in the place where he had been. He felt his stomach cramp and the heaving began until there was nothing left. It was his job to look out for the men around him and the weight of his failure buckled his knees and he slumped to the ground. He couldn't recall having heard anything, but there must have been something. People don't just don't vanish in silence. He realized he must have fallen asleep at some point and failed to watch over that guy from Ohio. The heaving motion began again. There was nothing left in his body to be rid of but the dry heaving continued. How was he going to live with the knowledge that he fell asleep while on duty, kneeling behind that tree while another soldier, who's name he'd not even had the time to learn, was gone. That was 45 years ago, but still very real and he's still trying to come to grips with it as it haunts his nights. He'd survived but wasn't sure his sanity did.

 

[DeletedUser31831]

Where to start? with a quote from George Orwell "Good people rest easy in their beds at night because rough men stand ready to do violence in their name". My grandfather served in France in WWI he returned with a chest full of medals and never talked about what he did "over there" he raised my 2 uncles and my mother in between the wars. after Pearl Harbor, my younger uncle joined the Navy. My older uncle went to Oregon State U. in the ROTC program and graduated early in May of 1944. after OCS he was on board a ship headed for Japan as a supernumerary. President Truman dropped "The Bomb" (twice) and the war was over. Both my Uncles came home. My older uncle remained on the "inactive reserve" until the North Koreans invaded the South and President Truman called up the reserves (including my uncle) and my uncle served in Korea from 1950 to 1953. My grandfather started teaching me to "walk in the woods" in 1951. When i joined the USMC in 1966, i had a pretty good idea what i was getting into. I met Lcpl Terry Grey on my second mission, we found out that we had graduated from nearby High schools and became fast friends. He was on a "road sweep" one morning when his unit came under a mortar attack, He knelt down to call in the report of the attack and a mortar landed on his radio. I never saw Terry again, but i did see his radio (what was left of it) Terry's name is on the wall - have never visited it Lance Corporal Terrence Grey is still there. age 18

 

[DeletedUser40430]

My Dad,

My Dad was born 1932 in Pearson Georgia, into a very unusual family as the third son of my Grandparents.

His Dad (my Grandfather) was 74 years old and in his second marriage, to a 38 year old mail order bride from South Carolina that to this day no one knows anything about.

Two and a half years later my Dad lost his father to which my Grandmother, my dad, and his two older brothers were absorbed into the family of my Dad’s half-brother from my Grandfather’s first marriage.

My Dad’s half-brother already had five boys and two girls of his own already older than my Dad. With one more son to come after absorbing my Dad’s family. A total of 9 boys and 2 girls were raised in that home.

Farm life was very hard on that family, within six months of moving in with my Dad’s half-brother, my Grandmother committed suicide, leaving my Dad with no parents before he was four years of age.

By the time my Dad was 17 he quit school then lied about his age and joined the United States Army to which his first deployment was being sent to South Korea as part of the United Nations ceasefire agreement security forces. Where he was in his words: In a mopping up deployment.

After three years in the Army my Dad took a demotion in order to qualify entry into the United States Air Force. Where he was stationed to The United Kingdom and there he was connected to my mother through a Pen Pal Organization where Single British Women wrote letters to Single American Servicemen as a gratitude for helping them win WWII.

They finally met, fell in love and were married in France. For the next 16 plus years, my parents moved every year and a half. They lived in four different States, and four different European Countries having me and my two sisters on the way. With living in England and France multiple times.

During that time my Dad was stationed to Korat Thailand in 1969 in support of the Vietnam War. There he saw and witnessed things that changed my Dad’s life forever. Even though Thailand was a natural country, there were snipers, bombings, and death that devastated my Dad.

My Dad left to go to Korat Thailand and a man called my father came home with PTSD before there was even a diagnosis for it. He came home an alcoholic.

My Dad continued to serve with distinction reaching the rank of Technical Sergeant before injuring his back, and spending the next seven months in the hospital.

After healing from his injuries my Dad was released from the United States Air Force with a Medical Discharge, and 70% disability, and the loss of the only life he knew.

My Dad came up hard with no real idea what parenting really was, not having any of his own growing up, saw things in Korea and Thailand that could alter anyone’s beliefs and ideas. Yet he served for 23 years total in the United States Army and Air Force with distinction and awards.

He might not have been the ideal Father, he didn’t know how, but he provided for his family exceedingly regardless of his inner demons.

We may not have always seen eye to eye, but I never quit loving him for his devotion to his family and country.

R.I.P Dad, I Love and Miss You !!

 

[DeletedUser40433]

On an out of the ordinary day in January, now 10 years ago, I got the call that broke all of our hearts. My daughter's terrified voice saying, "Mom, the base chaplain is here .. he's telling me James has been killed. What do I do?" My mother's instinct told me to run and pick Rachel up .. to hold her safe, to kiss away the tears, but this hurt was too great for hugs .. and she was living across the country.

Rachel met James a little more than 2 years prior, a man's man, an old soul .. a Green Beret in Special Forces, so full of life and manly pride. He loved being in the Army. James had joined soon after high school, post-09/11, wanting to protect his country and help bring about justice. He was the product of a broken home, and had grown up in a family that consisted of his father and brother. My beautiful 18-year-old daughter had called me one day from the courthouse telling me they had eloped, and before long they were off to his station.

He loved Rachel's family and adopted us as his own, probably because we were so ... average. When I saw a call from their number, it was just as likely to be James as Rachel, just to chat, to talk about the day. He had once told me that I felt like the mother he never really had. Rachel had waited alone, far from home while he served through 2 tours of duty in Afghanistan. The time and distance had put a strain on their young marriage, but they happily looked forward to finally being together, to working on their home, to starting a family. James often spoke about his hopes of being a dad one day, of having a little boy to fish with, or a girl to take camping. Then 4 days before his return .. the dreams came to an end.

I flew to her as fast as I could .. and the weeks ahead were a blur of military ceremony, visits from his team mates, casseroles and cards. The day finally came that we went to the base airport as they rolled the casket across the tarmac. Rachel was escorted by officers, wearing impressive uniforms, speaking with respectful and solemn voices. I rode with her in the limo to the small white chapel where they had taken his body. One of James' teammates offered her his arm to lead her up the steps, but he quickly returned alone asking Rachel's mother to follow him. He said she needed me. This young woman had been a picture of dignity and stoic strength through it all, a beautiful widow of 21. But now, Rachel stood alone in the aisle of that quiet sanctuary, a terrified girl trembling and sobbing. "Mom .. I can't do this." I held her and together we walked to the casket. There laid James, pale and handsome in his dress uniform. I held her a moment and then stepped back as she softly whispered to him .. "James .. why .. you don't belong in there. You were coming home ..."

 

[DeletedUser30335]

I'm an Army vet and a revolutionary war historian as a hobby. The last couple of years I've written a blog post honoring a fallen, but forgotten by history, soldier. This year it was five men:

Memorial Day Tribute to Five of a 40-Man Scout

September 4, 1777, Major Henry Dearborn of the 3rd New Hampshire Regiment wrote the following in his journal:

“a Scout of 40 men under Command of Capt. fry of Colo. Scammels Regt. was Surpris’d By a Body of Indians & others Consisting in the whole of about 300. we Lost out our scout 9 men kild & taken–“​

Memorial Day has become the time when we reflect on the sacrifices of our country’s soldiers and their families. Researching and writing my books has afforded me opportunities to learn a few stories of such sacrifices that have seemingly gone untold. Last year I wrote on Josiah Parker. This past year I finally sorted out the story of the scouting party Henry Dearborn wrote about.

Early on the morning of September 4, 1777, Captain Isaac Frye of Colonel Alexander Scammell’s 3rd New Hampshire Regiment led a party of forty men selected from the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd NH and the 2nd and 4th New York Continental Army regiments out of their camp by Lowden’s Ferry on the south side of the Mohawk River. After crossing the river, Frye, a New Hampshire Farmer, likely led them along the north side of the river before turning northwest by what is today Alplaus. By early afternoon they were likely near Galway when they were ambushed by the warriors from the Fort Hunter Mohawks, who having been driven from their homes were on their way first to Burgoyne’s camp and ultimately to Canada.

This past summer I was able to use the rolls from these regiments to determine the names of all the men in this scouting party. It was mostly luck that the rolls were taken on September 5 and 6, listing the men as either on a scout or on command.

Lieutenant Nathaniel McCally and privates Daniel Cook and Daniel Day apparently got separated and did not return with Captain Frye and were listed as missing. The next date rolls existed for was Jan 1/2, 1778, where I confirmed these men had returned a day or two later. Those January rolls also listed the men who were killed or were listed as missing since the scouting party:

• Sergeant William Kemp, Morrill’s company, 1st NH
• Corporal Steven Lovekin, Blodgett’s company, 2nd NH
• Private Isaac Leeland, Blodgett’s company, 2nd NH
• Private Andrew Newell, Stone’s company, 3rd NH
• Private Samuel Page, Gilman’s company, 1st NH

It’s been more than a decade since I learned my 4x great grandfather commanded this scouting party. It has bothered me that Dearborn’s journal and Anburey’s account were all most of us knew about the events of September 4, 1777. The names of these men who lost their lives that day while serving in the Continental Army were unaccounted for in any of the histories I’ve read and had eluded me until this year.

This skirmish also claimed the lives of as many as three men in the Fort Hunter party who were led by Odeserundiye (John Deserontyon, aka Captain John), who was wounded during the fighting. Samuel Cooley and Isaac Hill’s brother (I’ve not been able to confirm his first name) are the two names from the Fort Hunter part I’ve found mentioned as being killed. The Fort Hunter party included about 150 men, women, and children.

The full story will be in my upcoming novel, “Honor and Valor”, and I am hopeful of finishing within the year.

Sources:
Anburey, Thomas 1784. “Travels Through the Interior Parts of America in a Series of Letters by an Officer” William Lane, Leadenhall Street, London, England. p391-398

Brown, Lloyd A. and Peckham, Howard H. 1939. “Revolutionary War Journals of Henry Dearborn 1775-1783” The Caxton Club, Chicago, IL. p104.

National Archives, Rolls of Brigadier General Enoch Poor’s brigade (1st, 2nd, and 3rd NH and 2nd and 4th NY regiments) dated Sept 4-6, 1777 and 1-2 Jan 1778. Accessed from 2014-2018 on http://www.Fold3.com.

Acknowledgments:
Eric Schnitzer, Historian and Park Ranger at Saratoga National Historical Park: A little encouragement goes a long way. Eric put me on the path to looking at all the September 1777 rolls for Enoch Poor’s brigade.