Longwood Central School District
Longwood Central School District
Charles E. Walters Elementary School
Coram Elementary School
Ridge Elementary School
West Middle Island Elementary School
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Information
What's New?
World War II Memorial
Veterans Form
Date for Dedication
List of Longwood Veterans of Desert Storm
Local History Publications
Newsday story about dedication of memorials at park
Monuments at Bartlett Pond Park dedicated.
Pearl Button Business Recalled by Fragments Found at Yaphank
Longwood students and staff volunteering during the annual Brookhaven clean up day
Veterans Day celebration held at Bartlett Pond
Middle Island News Articles
Coram News Articles
Alberta, a familiar face in Coram
The East Middle Island schoolhouse
Davis cows
West Middle Island Class of 1932
Tombstone Project
Soldiers in the Service
Edwards Pond
Customs and habits of Indians Recalled
The Long Island Indians
Pictures of students at the one room school house at Ridge (1945)
Passing It On
An interview that was done in 1979 with Hazel Clarissa Randall Wells
Elsie Manzoni tells what it was like to grow up on a farm in Coram. Do you have a story that you would like to tell? You can write it yourself or let us ask questions and we will edit it for you.
Believes in Long Island for Fruit and Peach Raising
The memoirs of Talbot Brewer of the 306th machine gun battalion.
Park Idea To Save Great Pines of Middle Island ---Grove Spreads
John Jones of Yaphank held the position of election Inspector for 43 years
HUNTER SEKINE HOUSE
John "Ed" Davis was the longtime constable in Yaphank. This interview appeared in the Middle Island Mail in March 1936.
Not everyone was happy with the coming of the Long Island Railroad. This is a news article recalling the Long Island Forest Fires and the Railroad Wars of 1845.
The Glover family were longtime Yaphank residents. The family farm took up much of Yaphank Avenue south of the railroad tracks. Family member Jon Backer has written a history of the family farm.
List of people in Brookhaven Town who agreed to set their slaves free (The Act of 1788) This list also includes the names of the slaves set free.
The 8th grade class of 1947 - Before clicking attempt to guess how many 8th grade students were in the class of 1947
Updates to the Obituary Page
World War I Veterans from the Longwood Community. The stories of the men who served from our area during the Great War. If you have any information about any of these veterans please contact us.
The drawings and story of Paul Lameyer, a detainee at the Camp Upton POW Camp
Camp Siegfried Postcards
Trench and Camp - August 26, 1919 - The Army newspaper at Camp Upton
The National Archives sent us the report made by the Swiss Legation about the POW camp at Camp Upton
List of German Prisoners held at Camp Upton
German POW Photos and Letter
Report from Swiss Legation about Camp Upton
We have added the years 1891 -1909 from the Patchogue Advance to our newspaper page.
Yaphank - 1877 -1885
(Yaphank, Coram, Middle Island) 1886 - 1909
Yaphank, Coram, Middle Island) 1916 -1919
Coram - 1877 - 1885
Middle Island 1877-1885
Ridge (Ridgeville) 1877 - 1885
Yaphank Courier
Middle Island Mail 1936-1941
A short history of baseball in the Longwood community
The World War One letters of Norm L. Feeter. Private Feeter was a member of Company A, 305th Machine Gun Battalion.
Jean Lauer's History of the Longwood Estate
We are now compiling a page with helpful hints for researchers. We have started with how to access military records.
The Elusive Legend of Icy Hollow
Gus Neuss has once again completed a story, this time telling of a number of Yaphank fires. Stories of the fires
New York Times articles about the activities of the Ku Klux Klan on Long Island during the 1920s
Copies of New York Times Articles about Camp Upton
Copies of New York Times Articles about the Lost Battalion
The story of Private Harold Spear Young
1917
09/19-30
A tribute to Private Herbert Clark 307th Infantry-Machine Gun Company
A letter and photos of German POWs who were held at Camp Upton during WWII
Can you do the Colonial Math?
newspaper stories dealing with the Bund.
The German American Bund
THE GOLD RUSH DIARY OF FRANK McCREARY part 2.
Ku Klux Klan Visits Yaphank
Stories of the Streets
The Motorcycle Track at Coram
Mailing List
Biographies
Coram Biographies
Chambers, Luther
Davis, Daniel W.
Davis, Grace
Hulse, Isaac Dr.
Overton, John
Norton, Cynthia
Norton, Nathaniel
Pension file from National Archives
Rovagna, Joseph
Smith, Lucy
Smith Jr., Edward Elroy
Middle Island Biographies
Bubb, Jerusha
Buckingham, Daniel
King, Ezra
King, Joseph
Randall, Admiral Albert B.l
Randall, Joseph
Sherry, Daniel
Bayles, Thomas
Bayles, Gertrude
Hutchinson, Benjamin
Yours Respectfully B.T. Hutchinson
Ridge Biographies
Randall, Captain Henry M.
Smith, William Sidney
Yaphank Biographies
Ackerly, Alfred
Baker, Dr. James
Booth, Mary Louise
Mary Louise Booth Historic Memories (Sixth Paper)
Buckingham, Daniel
Buckingham, Jonas
Coomes, James
Davis, John
Floyd, August
Gerard, Edward
Gerard, Robert H
Holden, Dr. Samuel
Hammond, John
Hawkins, Jonah
Hawkins, Richard
Hawkins, Robert
Homan, Daniel
Homan, Edward
Homan, Samuel L.
Homan, Mordecai
Homan, Thomas
Laws, Simmons
Mills, Edward
Mills, John
Norton, Samuel
Overton, Mordecai
Overton, Sereno
Phillips, William
Smith, Alexander
Sweezey, Daniel
Swezey, Daniel
Weeks, William
Obituaries
Coram Obituaries
Chambers, Luther
Davis, Margaret
Davis, Homer
Davis Lester H.
Elsebough, John
Gray, Eugene Rev.
Johnson, Edward
Overton, S.S.
Pfundstein, John
Plate, Domenick
Sekine, Hunter
Smith, Richard W
Still, Charlotte
Wittschack, Frederick
Middle Island Obituaries
Albin, Alice
Bayles, Richard M.
Clark, David
Davis, Clarissa
Dayton, John R.
Hallock, Rev.
Hutchinson, Minerva
Jayne, Robert
Messerole, Abbey
Overton, Hannah
Pfeiffer, Edward
Reid, John
Sweezey, Azel R.
Van Horn, Ogden
Ridge Obituaries
Randall, Orville
Smith, William Dr.
Yaphank Obituaries
Coomes, James
Hawkins, Robert H.
Glover, William
Holmes, Adam
Homan, Isaac
Howell, Charles E
Marshant, Frederick
Marshant, Ada.
Neuss, Gustave Sr.
Norton, Samuel
O'Reilly, Patrick
Rector, Alys
Robins, Harriet
Cemeteries
Coram Cemeteries
Baptist Cemetary
Bayles Cemetery
Davis Cemetery
Methodist Chuch Cemetery
Overton Cemetery
Old Middle Country Road Cemetery
Pauls Path Cemetery
Still Family Cemetery
Middle Island Cemeteries
East Middle Island Methodist Cemetery
Methodist Cemetery
Swezey Family Cemetery
Union Cemetery
Map of the Cemetery
Ridge Cemeteries
Aldrich Family Cemetery
Laws Family Cemetery
Randall Family Cemetery
Smith Family Cemetery
Yaphank Cemeteries
Buckingham-Homan Cemetery
Hawkins Family Cemetery
Old Yaphank Baptist Cemetery
Presbyterian Cemetery
Saint Andrews Cemetery
Yaphank Cemetery
Contact Us
Hamlets
Coram
History of Coram
Coram: An Ancient Settlement
Coram: A Historical Sketch
The Indian Place-Names
Geology of Coram
Growing up on a Coram Farm
Still Farm
Still family cemetery
Joshua Overton/Osborne House
S. Smith
Mooney Pond
E. Dayton
Smith-Paquette House
Coram Gun Club
Coram Pond
Aerial View of Coram Pond
Mulford House
Brush House
Baptist Cemetery
Baptist Cemetary Students
Methodist Cemetery
Trinity Methodist Church
Norton House
Cynthia Norton
School House
Attendance
Lester Davis House
Towns Meetings
The Advance
The Lester Davis Home as a Farm
Cows
Chickens
Chopped Wood
Strawberry
Diary
Threshing
Minnie and Grace Davis House
A Visit to the Davis House
Old Orchard Tea Room
A. Davis/Elsebough House
Luther Chambers
L. H. Davis House
W. Lee
Town Poorhouse
Hulse House
Dr. Isaac Hulse
Swezey House
Mott House
Old Town Pump
Baczensky/Fingar's General Store
Hay Burning
L. R. Overton House
Hammond-Higbee House
John
Elsie Manzoni
Rovagna's General Store
Postmaster
Ham Smith House
E. Stephen Still Farm
Brewster Terry House
J. Overton House
John Overton
David Overton House
Isaac
John
James
Justus
Granny Road
Pictures of Rte. 112
Hunter Sekine - Japanese Horticulturist
Hunter Sekine
The legend of Coram Hills
Myrtle Fingar - Postmaster of Coram for thirty years.
Who kissed Betty Scudder?
The Coram Community Center
Aerial Views of the Coram Drive in
Billy's Windmill Restaurant in Coram
The Casa Bordone on Mill Road
Babe Ruth Stops at Coram
The Goldsmith Davis Desk
Coram Dick
Smith Genealogy
Coram Airport
Lt. William Clark
Coram Rug Works
Badger's Dutch Oven Inn1
1938 Coram Baseball Team
Middle Island
Middle Island: A Historical Sketch
An Excerpt from My Long Island
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area - 2
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area - 3
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area - 4
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area - 5
Alonzo Chappel House
Paintings
The John Risley Home
Artist Lake
S. Van Horn House
Pfeiffer's General Store
Edward Pfeiffer
Joseph Randall
Post Office
horse and wagon
potbellied stove
auctions
Pfeiffer's Pond
J. Edwards House
JONATHAN EDWARD'S WILL
D. Edwards - J. Gurvey House
E. Edwards House
D. F. Edwards House
Pine Lake
E. Sherry House
DANIEL SHERRY
Footnotes to Long Island History
Book 1
Book 2
Book 3
Book 4
Book 5
Book 6
Book 7
Book 8
Book 9
Book 10
Book 11
‘Iron Horse’ Put End to Stage Coach
Here’s Where Daniel Webster Caught Big Trout
Wreck of the Lamington
Ponds Were Too High in 1899
Middle Island’s Oldest Resident Dies at Age 96
Richard Woodhull Prominent Name in Early Island History
Town’s Early Settlers Lived Peaceably with the Indians
Early Settlers Paid Indians to Spot Whales for Them
In 1695 People Who Missed Town Meetings Were Fined
In Old Days, Postage Was Collected at Receiver’s End
Area Can Boast Proudly of Rich Historic Past
Farming and. Fishing Were Main Occupations
Motoring in 1901
Six Lost in 1909 Wreck
Prosser’s Pine Forest to Become County Park
Lopped Trees Remainders of Colonial Long Island
Early Years in Medford. Start With Railroad Station
Records of an Old Whaler Tell of Problems, Success
School Districts In Brookhaven Started as 1-Room Houses in 1813
Customs and Habits of Indians Recalled
The L.I.R.R. Was Formed in 1834, Ran From Brooklyn to Greenport
Early Life and Times in Brookhaven Town
Book 12
Hunters Garden Association
Origins of Patch.'s Name Discussed by History Author
Country Life in 1880
The Patchogue-Port Jefferson Bicycle Path Was Built in 1895
More Bicycle Railroads
Tradition Started Back in 1833: Area Menfolk Gather for Eel Chowder
Old Tunnel Bridge Brings Back Memories
School Taxes of Yesteryear
Worst Storm
Brookhaven's Post Offices
New Church Serves Great Need
Old Landmark Being Demolished
W.S. Swezey House
Hagen's General Store
Union Cemetery
E. King House
Rev. Ezra King
Joseph Newell
Middle Island Presbyterian Church
Schoolhouse #16
Swezey House
burned
Click here to see the Howell genealogy
Click here to see a map of the Howell property
Presbyterian Parsonage-Hudson House
An Octogenarian Fondly Recalls the Church of Her Childhood
G. Ritch House
The Original Homeowners
D. Petty House
MILLER FARM
Plowed Fields and Historical Archaeology
H. Hutchinson House
B. Hutchinson House
MIDDLE ISLAND AND ITS OLD POST OFFICE
E. Gildersleeve-Thompson House
East Middle Island Schoolhouse (#17)
ONGOING PROJECTS
Announcement
J. Topping House
W. Dayton House
deed
DEEDS THAT MADE UP THE PROSSER FARM
Mid - Island Mail
Methodist Church
J. Hurtin House
Leak-Monsell-Ashton House
F. Hawkins House
W. Bartlett House
Daniel Buckingham
buying additional acreage
Middle Island in Furore
Road Bar Scored
Richard Bayles House
Randall House
Ole B. Balling, the other artist at Artist Lake
Old views of Middle Island circa 1900
Views of the Middle Island Yaphank road.
Chestnut Pound (Site of the West Middle Island School)
Estonian Hall
Martha Edwards House
Views of Longwood Road
Views of Middle Country Road (Rte. 25)
Blizzard of 1934
Ralph Johnstone's Plane Lands in Middle Island
Middle Island-Yaphank Road
The Middle Island Class of 1947
The story of the Old Country Road
Lewis Ritch, cutting cordwood at age 95
West Middle Island class of 1932
Deeds That Made Up the Prosser Farm
"Nessie" Comes to Artist Lake
Petty House Middle Island
Threshing
Brewster Burial Grounds
Hurricane of 1938
Middle Country Road
John F Kennedy's speeding ticket in Middle Island
Bartlett Road, Middle Island
Fairytown
Albert bayles' chicken coops
Half Mile Road
Flax Pond Road
Ridge
A.D. Randall
Capt. Henry M. Randall
J. Randall
Ridge School #22
W.S. Smith - Longwood Estate
Laws - C.J. Randall
J.O. Randall
A. Muellin
Long Pond / Lake Panamoka
Whiskey Road
Randall family reunion
The Elusive Legend of Icy Hollow
The Ridge School House 1945
July 4th, 1873 at Ridgefield
Formation of the Ridge Civic Association
the Middle Island Game Farm
Lake Panamoka Sales Brochure
Pictures of the Ridge Post Office and Ridge Stationery
Ridge Cordwood Played Big Part In Early Brick Making Industry
Yaphank
Historical Yaphank Walking Tour
Phillips-Bianca House
S.L. Homan McCreary
Hawkins-Dooley House
Hawkins Family Cementery
D.D. Sweezey-Mannino House
Norton-Mannino House
Robinson-Tuthill-Mills-Mannino House
Davis-Hoeffner-Mannino House
Sweezey-Avey House
Marchant-Pantanella House
Overton-Schmidt House
Ackerly-Saggese House
Sereno B. Overton House
Homan-Hulse House
Davis House
Davis-Norton House
Presbyterian Parsonage Manse
Yaphank Presbyterian Church
Walters-Ripple House
Herbert House
Joseph Hololob House
Overton-Mouzakes House
Richard Homan-Olsen House
Sylvester Homan-Trusnovec House
Neuss-Williams House
Walter Milian Joseph Greener House
Gus Neuss-Luley House
Van Recter-Stroud House
Homan-Wittmann House (Wittman Rabbitry)
Yaphank Community Shop
Hammond-Kollett House
Howell-Overhoff House
St. Andrews Episcopal Church & Cemetery
Booth-Kinney House
Weeks-Hololob House
Hawkins-Jacobsen House
Buckingham Family Cemetery
John "Ed" Davis
Middle Island Mail
Long Island Forest Fires, and the Railroad Wars of 1845
The Glover Farm
Newspaper Archive
Mid Island Mail
Yaphank during the depression years
Suffolk County Alms- House (poorhouse)
Yaphank schoolhouse
YAPHANK'S 8 Sided School
Memories of the Yaphank Schoolhouse
Yaphank School Class of 1921
Mills of Yaphank
Ku Klux Klan Visits Yaphank
German-American Bund
Stories of Yaphank Fires
Camp Siegfried Postcards
The Gus Neuss Archives of articles related to the Bund at Yaphank
Homan/Gerard house
Homan House
Wheelock Coombs House
Rozilla Brewster
yaphank Common School
Longwood Books
Time Periods
Pre-Columbian
The Long Island Indians
Customs and Habits Of Indians Recalled
Experts find evidence of ancient Long Island village in Middle Island
Artifacts found at Middle Island site
Fred Wilson describes the Indian settlement at Twin Ponds in 1900
The Legend of Chief Wam Setta
Colonial Period
History of the Long Lots
Owners of the Long Lots
Maps of the Long Lots
South of Middle Country Road
The Colonial Doctor
Cattle Ear - Marks
Abstracts of papers (shows land exchanges as early as 1760)
Town Government
Can you do the Colonial Math?
French and Indian War
Brookhaven Town Historian's Research on Drafting during the French and Indian War
Suffolk County Muster Rolls -- French and Indian War
1758
Captain Alexander Smith
Captain Thomas Terry
Captain Elias Hand
1759
Captain Potter
Captain Sayre
Captain Tuthill
1760
Captain Israel Horton
Captain Jesse Platt
1761
Captain Jesse Platt
1762
Captain Daniel Griffin
American Revolution
Lt. William Clark
Jacob Corwin
Lt. Isaac Davis
Goldmith Davis
Ebenezer Dayton
Noah Hammond
Gershom Hawkins
Zopher Hawkings
Reeve Howell
Nathaniel Norton
Justus Overton
Major Isaac Overton
Nehemiah Overton
Palmer Overton
William Phillips, Jr.
Stephen Randall
Captain David Rose, Jr.
Isaac Smith
Isaac Smith (1)
Lieutenant Uriah Smith
William Still
Jonathan Yarrington
William Yarrington
The Association
Signers in Brookhaven, June 8, 1775
The Committee of Safety at Coram
An alphabetical listing of American Revolutionary war patriots buried in area cemeteries
The Burning of the Hay at Coram
The Tale of the Swezey geese
Mrs. Leek feeds the British
Isaac and Joshua Smith tease the English
Pastor David Rose by Thomas A. Bayles
The story of Goldsmith Davis
The Battle of Long Island
The Whaleboat Raiders visit William Swezey
Settlers
Slavery
Slavery in Brookhaven Town
Civil War
Oakley, James M.
Henderson, Peter
Davis, Samuel
Overton, Elisha
Wilson, Albert
Hopkins, Thomas
Oakley, Oscar
Elsebough, John
Carter, Ichabod
Davis, Albert
Homan, William
Homan, Richard
Howell, Charles
Albin, Thomas
Whitbeck, Franklin
Darrow, Samuel
Jenkins, Horace
Jenkins, David
Higgins, Smith
Dayton, Smith
Ritch, Sidney
Monsell, Nathaniel
Monsell, Alexander
Murther, John
Harris, James
Hassenger, Christopher
Overton, Joel
Nichols, James
Nichols, Floyd
Hallock, John
Downs, James
L’Hommedieu, James
Van Cowan, Peter
Bayles, Edward
Wier, Joseph
Hutchinson, Elbert
Good, James
Topping, Albert
Topping, Gardiner
World War I
Longwood during World War I
Brewster
Bubb, Herman
Bubb, Harold
Butler, Henry
Butler, Joseph
Cater
Davis, Albert
Davis, Charles
Davis, Homer
Edwards, Orlando
Herbert, William
Homan, Paul
Homan, Percy
Jones, Henry
Kelsey, Charles
Mott, Wallace
Muller, Carl
Oshea, William
Prinzing, Elmer
Risley, Arthur
Risley, Leslie
Ritch, Allie
Smith, William
Still, Bertram
Still, Phillip
Still, Raymond
Still, Wendell
Von Hassel, William
World War II
Albin, Leroy
Barger, Harvey
Bayles, Donald M
Bello, Frank
Betz, George
Bianca, Frank
Birrell, George
Bonk, Harry
Borella, Bruno
Brenner, Joseph
Buniski, Edward J
Buniski, Charles P
Burns, Bartley
Burns, Raymond
Carrabus, Dominic
Carrabus, Albert H
Carrabus, John
Christiansen, Howard
Connell, Briton
Davis, John
Davis, Judson
Delli -Bovi, Victor
Delli -Bovi, Jerome
DiLucian, Joseph
Doherty, Francis
Doherty, Harry
Doherty, James
Doherty, Michael
Dunnnigan, Raymond
Eagle, William
Eagle, James
Erhardt, Richard
Edwards, Leon
Ehlers, Albert H
Elges, Warren
Erland, Arthur
Erland, Clifford
Erland, Calvin
Eve, Paul
Faron, Alfred
Farrington, John
Ferguson, Donald
Fingar, Donald
Fullerton, Loring
Gagnon, Edmour
Gaulke, Henry
Gerdts, Henry
Gill, Francis
Gill, William
Glover, Kenneth
Gordon, Walter
Greener, Andrew
Guidone, Benjamin
Hahn, William
Hamel, William
Hines, John
Hines, Theodore
Heppler, Richard
Hoeffner, Charles
Hoeffner, John
Hollowell, Paul
Holmes, John
Holmes, Joseph
Holmes, Thomas
Holmes, Sylvester
Kansriddle, John
Kiezel, Walter
Kinney, Myrton
Klimek, Paul
Koecher, Walter
Leger, Ernest
Lyons, William
Lyons, John
Mailer, Donald
Mazzoni, Salvatore
Mirando, John
Mirando, Salvatore
Mirando, Frank
Mirando, Vincent
Mooney, Edwin
Morris, Cyril
Morris, James
Neger, Ethel
Nelson, George
Obiedzenski, Alexander
Obiedzenski, Zygmund
Ortmann, Arthur
Ortmann, Edward
Pfeiffer, Everett
Pfundstein, William
Poggioli, Raymond
Pritchard, James
Raimond, Patrick
Raimond, Charles
Rankin, Donald
Randall, Austin
Raynor, Sidney
Rensch, William
Risley, Joseph
Risley, Kenneth
Risley, Theodore
Rupolo, Thomas
Ruppert, Frederick
Sautter, Martin
Scesney, Joseph
Schorsch, Fred
Seibert, Anthony
Seibert, George
Shannon, James
Sieber, Albert
Sieber, William
Sieber, Dorothy
Sieber, Edward
Stewart, Frances
Stewart, Norman
Stiansen, Andre
Still, Raymond
Strier, Frederick
Swezey, Allen
Swezey, Theodore
Thatner, Eric
Tovey, Thomas
Voorhies, Donald
Walters, Charles
Ward, Lewis
Wittschack, Rudolph
Wittschack, Frederick
Wittschack, Edward
Young, Donald
Zebrowski, Edward P
Zebrowski, Roman R
Zebrowski, Zigmund
Zebrowski, Walter
Zimlinghaus, Charles
Longwood during World War II - The diaries of Albert Bayles
The Air Raid Observation post
Chain of Army Air Defense Fields Is Proposed for Suffolk County
Boy of 8 Qualifies as Army Plane Spotter
The Gus Neuss Archives of articles related to the Bund at Yaphank
Korea
Harold Bachmann
Hynes, Jerry
Schlachter,Henry
Korean War Veteran's form
Vietnam
Coleman, John
Ferguson, William
Nelson, George
Richards, Donald J.
Gulf, Iraq, Afghanistan
Resources
Diaries
Lewis R. Overton- from 1820-1827
Cynthia (Hutchinson) Norton- For the years 1809-1810
The diary of Minerva Hutchinson- 1838-1842
William Yarrington- French and Indian War diary
William Yarrington-Revolutionary War 1775-1776
Richard M. Bayles 1872-1913
Albert Bayles for the years 1914-1949
Samuel Davis- Journal of a Voyage of the USS Kearsarge
William L. Davis - Life on a Coram farm in 1871
Diary of a Yaphank Teenager-1882-1883
An account of B.F. McCreary's voyage from New York to California - August 13th 1850
The Return Trip of B.F. McCreary to New York from California Pt. 2
The William Weeks Diaries
Censuses (1776- 1900)
North of Middle Country Road (alphabetical order)
North of Middle Country Road (order of visitation)
South of Middle Country Road (alphabetical order)
South of Middle Country Road (order of visitation)
1790 Alphabetical order
1790 Order of visitation
1800 Alphabetical order
1800 Order of visitation
1810 Alphabetical order
1810 Order of visitation
1820
Coram 1860
Middle Island (Ridge) 1860
Yaphank 1860
Coram 1870
Middle Island (Ridge) 1870
Yaphank 1870
Coram 1880
Middle Island (Ridge) 1880
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Coram-Middle Island (Ridge) - Yaphank 1900
Newspapers
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Modern History
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New York Times News Articles About Camp Upton
The Camp Upton Story (1917-1921) by Norval Dwyer
Camp Upton (from a pamphlet published by the Public Affairs Office of Brookhaven National Laboratory)
The Lost Battalion Archives
Camp Upton Described and Photographed
Chronological History of the 77th Division
77th Division- Record of Events
Map Archives
Trench and Camp - The Camp Upton Newspaper
The Victorious 77th- Heroes of the Argonne Forest by, 1st Lieut. Arthur McKeough
History of the Seventy Seventh Division
History of the 305th Infantry
History of the 306th Infantry
History of the 307th Infantry
History of the 308 Infantry
Our Sons at War, Co. A. 308th Infantry
The 308th Medical Detachment
308th Ambulance Company-302d Sanitary Train
A Story of the 305th Machine Gun Battalion
The 306th Machine Gun Battalion This Man's War- by Charles F. Minder
Memories of the 306th Machine Gun Battalion
History of the 304th Field Artillery by, James M. Howard
History of the 305th Field Artillery
History of the 306th Field Artillery
The 302nd Engineers
Chapter 1. The Beginning
Chapter 2. From Upton to France
Chapter 3. France at Last
Chapter 4. Organization of an American Division
Chapter 5. Baccarat
Chapter 6. Military Situation in August, 1918
Chapter 7. The Vesle Sector
Chapter 8. To the Argonne Forest
Chapter 9. First Phase of the Battle
Chapter 10. Second Phase of the Argonne Battle
Chapter 11. The Armistice
Chapter 12. After the Eleventh
Chapter 13. Once more on the Ocean
Chapter 14. The End
Citations and Casualties
Company C
Letters of G. J. Curtin
Picture of Company C
Chronology of the 302nd Engineers - Company C
Reunion of the 302nd Engineers at the McGarry Farm
The 302nd Trench Artillery
The 302nd Ammunition Train - The letters of Laurance Bucknam
Oh! How He Hated To Get Up In The Morning Irving Berlin at Camp Upton
The C.C.C. at Camp Upton
Longwood during World War 1
Postcards from Camp Upton
Lost Battalion Website
German POWs kept at Camp Upton
77th Regional Readiness Command
July 1, 1918
June 24, 1918
December 31, 1918
Jan 12, 1918
counsel
302nd supply train
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World War II Memorial
Veterans Form
Date for Dedication
List of Longwood Veterans of Desert Storm
Local History Publications
Newsday story about dedication of memorials at park
Monuments at Bartlett Pond Park dedicated.
Pearl Button Business Recalled by Fragments Found at Yaphank
Longwood students and staff volunteering during the annual Brookhaven clean up day
Veterans Day celebration held at Bartlett Pond
Middle Island News Articles
Coram News Articles
Alberta, a familiar face in Coram
The East Middle Island schoolhouse
Davis cows
West Middle Island Class of 1932
Tombstone Project
Soldiers in the Service
Edwards Pond
Customs and habits of Indians Recalled
The Long Island Indians
Pictures of students at the one room school house at Ridge (1945)
Passing It On
An interview that was done in 1979 with Hazel Clarissa Randall Wells
Elsie Manzoni tells what it was like to grow up on a farm in Coram. Do you have a story that you would like to tell? You can write it yourself or let us ask questions and we will edit it for you.
Believes in Long Island for Fruit and Peach Raising
The memoirs of Talbot Brewer of the 306th machine gun battalion.
Park Idea To Save Great Pines of Middle Island ---Grove Spreads
John Jones of Yaphank held the position of election Inspector for 43 years
HUNTER SEKINE HOUSE
John "Ed" Davis was the longtime constable in Yaphank. This interview appeared in the Middle Island Mail in March 1936.
Not everyone was happy with the coming of the Long Island Railroad. This is a news article recalling the Long Island Forest Fires and the Railroad Wars of 1845.
The Glover family were longtime Yaphank residents. The family farm took up much of Yaphank Avenue south of the railroad tracks. Family member Jon Backer has written a history of the family farm.
List of people in Brookhaven Town who agreed to set their slaves free (The Act of 1788) This list also includes the names of the slaves set free.
The 8th grade class of 1947 - Before clicking attempt to guess how many 8th grade students were in the class of 1947
Updates to the Obituary Page
World War I Veterans from the Longwood Community. The stories of the men who served from our area during the Great War. If you have any information about any of these veterans please contact us.
The drawings and story of Paul Lameyer, a detainee at the Camp Upton POW Camp
Camp Siegfried Postcards
Trench and Camp - August 26, 1919 - The Army newspaper at Camp Upton
The National Archives sent us the report made by the Swiss Legation about the POW camp at Camp Upton
List of German Prisoners held at Camp Upton
German POW Photos and Letter
Report from Swiss Legation about Camp Upton
We have added the years 1891 -1909 from the Patchogue Advance to our newspaper page.
Yaphank - 1877 -1885
(Yaphank, Coram, Middle Island) 1886 - 1909
Yaphank, Coram, Middle Island) 1916 -1919
Coram - 1877 - 1885
Middle Island 1877-1885
Ridge (Ridgeville) 1877 - 1885
Yaphank Courier
Middle Island Mail 1936-1941
A short history of baseball in the Longwood community
The World War One letters of Norm L. Feeter. Private Feeter was a member of Company A, 305th Machine Gun Battalion.
Jean Lauer's History of the Longwood Estate
We are now compiling a page with helpful hints for researchers. We have started with how to access military records.
The Elusive Legend of Icy Hollow
Gus Neuss has once again completed a story, this time telling of a number of Yaphank fires. Stories of the fires
New York Times articles about the activities of the Ku Klux Klan on Long Island during the 1920s
Copies of New York Times Articles about Camp Upton
Copies of New York Times Articles about the Lost Battalion
The story of Private Harold Spear Young
1917
09/19-30
A tribute to Private Herbert Clark 307th Infantry-Machine Gun Company
A letter and photos of German POWs who were held at Camp Upton during WWII
Can you do the Colonial Math?
newspaper stories dealing with the Bund.
The German American Bund
THE GOLD RUSH DIARY OF FRANK McCREARY part 2.
Ku Klux Klan Visits Yaphank
Stories of the Streets
The Motorcycle Track at Coram
Mailing List
Biographies
Coram Biographies
Chambers, Luther
Davis, Daniel W.
Davis, Grace
Hulse, Isaac Dr.
Overton, John
Norton, Cynthia
Norton, Nathaniel
Pension file from National Archives
Rovagna, Joseph
Smith, Lucy
Smith Jr., Edward Elroy
Middle Island Biographies
Bubb, Jerusha
Buckingham, Daniel
King, Ezra
King, Joseph
Randall, Admiral Albert B.l
Randall, Joseph
Sherry, Daniel
Bayles, Thomas
Bayles, Gertrude
Hutchinson, Benjamin
Yours Respectfully B.T. Hutchinson
Ridge Biographies
Randall, Captain Henry M.
Smith, William Sidney
Yaphank Biographies
Ackerly, Alfred
Baker, Dr. James
Booth, Mary Louise
Mary Louise Booth Historic Memories (Sixth Paper)
Buckingham, Daniel
Buckingham, Jonas
Coomes, James
Davis, John
Floyd, August
Gerard, Edward
Gerard, Robert H
Holden, Dr. Samuel
Hammond, John
Hawkins, Jonah
Hawkins, Richard
Hawkins, Robert
Homan, Daniel
Homan, Edward
Homan, Samuel L.
Homan, Mordecai
Homan, Thomas
Laws, Simmons
Mills, Edward
Mills, John
Norton, Samuel
Overton, Mordecai
Overton, Sereno
Phillips, William
Smith, Alexander
Sweezey, Daniel
Swezey, Daniel
Weeks, William
Obituaries
Coram Obituaries
Chambers, Luther
Davis, Margaret
Davis, Homer
Davis Lester H.
Elsebough, John
Gray, Eugene Rev.
Johnson, Edward
Overton, S.S.
Pfundstein, John
Plate, Domenick
Sekine, Hunter
Smith, Richard W
Still, Charlotte
Wittschack, Frederick
Middle Island Obituaries
Albin, Alice
Bayles, Richard M.
Clark, David
Davis, Clarissa
Dayton, John R.
Hallock, Rev.
Hutchinson, Minerva
Jayne, Robert
Messerole, Abbey
Overton, Hannah
Pfeiffer, Edward
Reid, John
Sweezey, Azel R.
Van Horn, Ogden
Ridge Obituaries
Randall, Orville
Smith, William Dr.
Yaphank Obituaries
Coomes, James
Hawkins, Robert H.
Glover, William
Holmes, Adam
Homan, Isaac
Howell, Charles E
Marshant, Frederick
Marshant, Ada.
Neuss, Gustave Sr.
Norton, Samuel
O'Reilly, Patrick
Rector, Alys
Robins, Harriet
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Map of the Cemetery
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Contact Us
Hamlets
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History of Coram
Coram: An Ancient Settlement
Coram: A Historical Sketch
The Indian Place-Names
Geology of Coram
Growing up on a Coram Farm
Still Farm
Still family cemetery
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S. Smith
Mooney Pond
E. Dayton
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Aerial View of Coram Pond
Mulford House
Brush House
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Baptist Cemetary Students
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Norton House
Cynthia Norton
School House
Attendance
Lester Davis House
Towns Meetings
The Advance
The Lester Davis Home as a Farm
Cows
Chickens
Chopped Wood
Strawberry
Diary
Threshing
Minnie and Grace Davis House
A Visit to the Davis House
Old Orchard Tea Room
A. Davis/Elsebough House
Luther Chambers
L. H. Davis House
W. Lee
Town Poorhouse
Hulse House
Dr. Isaac Hulse
Swezey House
Mott House
Old Town Pump
Baczensky/Fingar's General Store
Hay Burning
L. R. Overton House
Hammond-Higbee House
John
Elsie Manzoni
Rovagna's General Store
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Ham Smith House
E. Stephen Still Farm
Brewster Terry House
J. Overton House
John Overton
David Overton House
Isaac
John
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Justus
Granny Road
Pictures of Rte. 112
Hunter Sekine - Japanese Horticulturist
Hunter Sekine
The legend of Coram Hills
Myrtle Fingar - Postmaster of Coram for thirty years.
Who kissed Betty Scudder?
The Coram Community Center
Aerial Views of the Coram Drive in
Billy's Windmill Restaurant in Coram
The Casa Bordone on Mill Road
Babe Ruth Stops at Coram
The Goldsmith Davis Desk
Coram Dick
Smith Genealogy
Coram Airport
Lt. William Clark
Coram Rug Works
Badger's Dutch Oven Inn1
1938 Coram Baseball Team
Middle Island
Middle Island: A Historical Sketch
An Excerpt from My Long Island
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area - 2
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area - 3
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area - 4
The story of Rainbow Ranch and what life was like in the Middle Island area - 5
Alonzo Chappel House
Paintings
The John Risley Home
Artist Lake
S. Van Horn House
Pfeiffer's General Store
Edward Pfeiffer
Joseph Randall
Post Office
horse and wagon
potbellied stove
auctions
Pfeiffer's Pond
J. Edwards House
JONATHAN EDWARD'S WILL
D. Edwards - J. Gurvey House
E. Edwards House
D. F. Edwards House
Pine Lake
E. Sherry House
DANIEL SHERRY
Footnotes to Long Island History
Book 1
Book 2
Book 3
Book 4
Book 5
Book 6
Book 7
Book 8
Book 9
Book 10
Book 11
‘Iron Horse’ Put End to Stage Coach
Here’s Where Daniel Webster Caught Big Trout
Wreck of the Lamington
Ponds Were Too High in 1899
Middle Island’s Oldest Resident Dies at Age 96
Richard Woodhull Prominent Name in Early Island History
Town’s Early Settlers Lived Peaceably with the Indians
Early Settlers Paid Indians to Spot Whales for Them
In 1695 People Who Missed Town Meetings Were Fined
In Old Days, Postage Was Collected at Receiver’s End
Area Can Boast Proudly of Rich Historic Past
Farming and. Fishing Were Main Occupations
Motoring in 1901
Six Lost in 1909 Wreck
Prosser’s Pine Forest to Become County Park
Lopped Trees Remainders of Colonial Long Island
Early Years in Medford. Start With Railroad Station
Records of an Old Whaler Tell of Problems, Success
School Districts In Brookhaven Started as 1-Room Houses in 1813
Customs and Habits of Indians Recalled
The L.I.R.R. Was Formed in 1834, Ran From Brooklyn to Greenport
Early Life and Times in Brookhaven Town
Book 12
Hunters Garden Association
Origins of Patch.'s Name Discussed by History Author
Country Life in 1880
The Patchogue-Port Jefferson Bicycle Path Was Built in 1895
More Bicycle Railroads
Tradition Started Back in 1833: Area Menfolk Gather for Eel Chowder
Old Tunnel Bridge Brings Back Memories
School Taxes of Yesteryear
Worst Storm
Brookhaven's Post Offices
New Church Serves Great Need
Old Landmark Being Demolished
W.S. Swezey House
Hagen's General Store
Union Cemetery
E. King House
Rev. Ezra King
Joseph Newell
Middle Island Presbyterian Church
Schoolhouse #16
Swezey House
burned
Click here to see the Howell genealogy
Click here to see a map of the Howell property
Presbyterian Parsonage-Hudson House
An Octogenarian Fondly Recalls the Church of Her Childhood
G. Ritch House
The Original Homeowners
D. Petty House
MILLER FARM
Plowed Fields and Historical Archaeology
H. Hutchinson House
B. Hutchinson House
MIDDLE ISLAND AND ITS OLD POST OFFICE
E. Gildersleeve-Thompson House
East Middle Island Schoolhouse (#17)
ONGOING PROJECTS
Announcement
J. Topping House
W. Dayton House
deed
DEEDS THAT MADE UP THE PROSSER FARM
Mid - Island Mail
Methodist Church
J. Hurtin House
Leak-Monsell-Ashton House
F. Hawkins House
W. Bartlett House
Daniel Buckingham
buying additional acreage
Middle Island in Furore
Road Bar Scored
Richard Bayles House
Randall House
Ole B. Balling, the other artist at Artist Lake
Old views of Middle Island circa 1900
Views of the Middle Island Yaphank road.
Chestnut Pound (Site of the West Middle Island School)
Estonian Hall
Martha Edwards House
Views of Longwood Road
Views of Middle Country Road (Rte. 25)
Blizzard of 1934
Ralph Johnstone's Plane Lands in Middle Island
Middle Island-Yaphank Road
The Middle Island Class of 1947
The story of the Old Country Road
Lewis Ritch, cutting cordwood at age 95
West Middle Island class of 1932
Deeds That Made Up the Prosser Farm
"Nessie" Comes to Artist Lake
Petty House Middle Island
Threshing
Brewster Burial Grounds
Hurricane of 1938
Middle Country Road
John F Kennedy's speeding ticket in Middle Island
Bartlett Road, Middle Island
Fairytown
Albert bayles' chicken coops
Half Mile Road
Flax Pond Road
Ridge
A.D. Randall
Capt. Henry M. Randall
J. Randall
Ridge School #22
W.S. Smith - Longwood Estate
Laws - C.J. Randall
J.O. Randall
A. Muellin
Long Pond / Lake Panamoka
Whiskey Road
Randall family reunion
The Elusive Legend of Icy Hollow
The Ridge School House 1945
July 4th, 1873 at Ridgefield
Formation of the Ridge Civic Association
the Middle Island Game Farm
Lake Panamoka Sales Brochure
Pictures of the Ridge Post Office and Ridge Stationery
Ridge Cordwood Played Big Part In Early Brick Making Industry
Yaphank
Historical Yaphank Walking Tour
Phillips-Bianca House
S.L. Homan McCreary
Hawkins-Dooley House
Hawkins Family Cementery
D.D. Sweezey-Mannino House
Norton-Mannino House
Robinson-Tuthill-Mills-Mannino House
Davis-Hoeffner-Mannino House
Sweezey-Avey House
Marchant-Pantanella House
Overton-Schmidt House
Ackerly-Saggese House
Sereno B. Overton House
Homan-Hulse House
Davis House
Davis-Norton House
Presbyterian Parsonage Manse
Yaphank Presbyterian Church
Walters-Ripple House
Herbert House
Joseph Hololob House
Overton-Mouzakes House
Richard Homan-Olsen House
Sylvester Homan-Trusnovec House
Neuss-Williams House
Walter Milian Joseph Greener House
Gus Neuss-Luley House
Van Recter-Stroud House
Homan-Wittmann House (Wittman Rabbitry)
Yaphank Community Shop
Hammond-Kollett House
Howell-Overhoff House
St. Andrews Episcopal Church & Cemetery
Booth-Kinney House
Weeks-Hololob House
Hawkins-Jacobsen House
Buckingham Family Cemetery
John "Ed" Davis
Middle Island Mail
Long Island Forest Fires, and the Railroad Wars of 1845
The Glover Farm
Newspaper Archive
Mid Island Mail
Yaphank during the depression years
Suffolk County Alms- House (poorhouse)
Yaphank schoolhouse
YAPHANK'S 8 Sided School
Memories of the Yaphank Schoolhouse
Yaphank School Class of 1921
Mills of Yaphank
Ku Klux Klan Visits Yaphank
German-American Bund
Stories of Yaphank Fires
Camp Siegfried Postcards
The Gus Neuss Archives of articles related to the Bund at Yaphank
Homan/Gerard house
Homan House
Wheelock Coombs House
Rozilla Brewster
yaphank Common School
Longwood Books
Time Periods
Pre-Columbian
The Long Island Indians
Customs and Habits Of Indians Recalled
Experts find evidence of ancient Long Island village in Middle Island
Artifacts found at Middle Island site
Fred Wilson describes the Indian settlement at Twin Ponds in 1900
The Legend of Chief Wam Setta
Colonial Period
History of the Long Lots
Owners of the Long Lots
Maps of the Long Lots
South of Middle Country Road
The Colonial Doctor
Cattle Ear - Marks
Abstracts of papers (shows land exchanges as early as 1760)
Town Government
Can you do the Colonial Math?
French and Indian War
Brookhaven Town Historian's Research on Drafting during the French and Indian War
Suffolk County Muster Rolls -- French and Indian War
1758
Captain Alexander Smith
Captain Thomas Terry
Captain Elias Hand
1759
Captain Potter
Captain Sayre
Captain Tuthill
1760
Captain Israel Horton
Captain Jesse Platt
1761
Captain Jesse Platt
1762
Captain Daniel Griffin
American Revolution
Lt. William Clark
Jacob Corwin
Lt. Isaac Davis
Goldmith Davis
Ebenezer Dayton
Noah Hammond
Gershom Hawkins
Zopher Hawkings
Reeve Howell
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A Buddy Goes west
A Buddy Goes west
OUR SONS AT WAR
by,
Lee McCollum
1940
WE ADVANCE AGAIN
ALL about us is every evidence of a people who had led a peaceful, contented life. Small farms, no longer tilled by the plow. What had once been homes were now shells with walls standing as sentinels guarding the remains.
Town after town we have passed through in this war shattered area. Occasionally we meet French peasants, usually the old ones. They seemed resigned to their fate. In one town they called us "L' Anglaise," mistaking us for English soldiers. When we tell them that we are Americans, they look puzzled and don't seem to understand. As we advance steadily to the far frontier the few peasants we had been seeing are now conspicuous by their absence. We can hear the deep throaty booming of heavy guns, then sharper notes of lighter artillery as we get closer to the front lines.
Near the town of St. Juvin I saw a goat. "Funny," I thought, "straying all by itself. Bleating, wondering where his master is. And we not much better off. Just beaded for the lines with no master to guide us."
Tonight we billeted in a dirty pen of a barn. I am too exhausted to examine the place they told me to bunk down. I can smell the foulness of it, though. Tired as I am, I sleep through it all. It is early morning. We are told to make it on the "double-quick," that hot coffee is waiting.
"Hot coffee!" God, how long since I've tasted anything hot! We rush to the portable kitchens that had overtaken us during the night. The aroma has been taunting me for five minutes as I patiently wait my turn. Eagerly I extend my aluminum cup for some of the precious black golden liquid.
Just as I got the coffee to my lips the bugler sounded a hasty warning. Several enemy planes appeared overhead from out of nowhere. We ran for cover. Nothing happened. The planes stayed but a moment, then faded away. We could see them signaling their artillery. Hastily we started to move forward. I lost half my precious coffee and scorched my throat with the other half.
We had advanced but a short distance to another small village when we met heavy opposition from the enemy entrenched there. Quickly we took cover behind buildings and in an old dilapidated trench.
Watching the enemy ducking in and out of the wrecks of buildings that had once been homes, I could not help thinking what those houses must have meant before fate found us here. The hopes and the dreams that had built them-the sense of security the four walls gave. Yet here we were, a ruthless bunch of madmen, shooting down the remains of what bad once been homes.
VISIONS
In early morn when day is born,
Night shadows start to fade,
I gaze upon a land shell-torn,
The havoc war has made.
And as the mist begins to lift,
Dim lines of a home I see,
Then by the fate's sardonic twist,
A vision comes to me.
Instead of walls that barely stand,
Against the skylines drear,
Quaint cozy rooms I see instead,
And all that life holds dear,
As plainly as 'twere painted there
A family group I see,
Gathered around a fireside,
A child on a father's knee.
He is telling oft told tales of old,
Their childish love to endear,
A wondrous fairyland picture he paints,
With a master's stroke that is clear.
Then comes the end of this simple tale,
Rewarded by cries of delight,
Lovelight glows in their trusting eyes,
As in turn they kiss him goodnight.
Off to bed a-romping they go,
Climbing queer turning stairs,
By a crude old home-made bed
They kneel to say their prayers.
"Bless mama and papa, and give
Peace on Earth, goodwill to men;
Then as the mother tucks them in,
One shyly says, "Amen."
But now the vision fades away,
Once more by the will of fate,
From barren walls comes a war-dog,
Turning loving thoughts to hate.
From my right comes the sound of a "Browning,"
That makes my blood run chill,
My vision is gone, I stand alone ...
My business up here is to kill.
NIGHT FLARES AND RAIDING
FLARES were the bane of every night raider's life in order to get information of enemy activities it was necessary to raid their lines occasionally, capture prisoners, and get information from them. It was common practice, both with the enemy and with our troops.
Raiding parties were never held on moonlight nights. In fact, I remember but few such nights in France. We usually waited for the wettest and blackest night we could find. Then a party of three of four, sometimes six, were detailed to make the raid.
It was dangerous because we were going deep into enemy territory to capture and bring back some of their men alive. Between our lines and the enemy was a strip of land called No-Man's-Land. This had to be crossed before we could reach the enemy lines. Usually that land was well protected from invasion by barbwire entanglements and small trip wires. If we were on old territory fought over before, we would quite often find weatherworn and dilapidated trenches along with the wire.
The only way the enemy could protect himself on dark nights was to keep No-Man's-Land lit up as much as possible. This he did by shooting flares into the skies at intervals. Raids were usually held in the dead of the night. On either the enemy's side or our own, the front lines were guarded by a scattering of a few men. These men were guards. Usually they were expert marksmen or machine-gunners, which made the invasion of raiding parties all the more dangerous.
When a raiding party saw a flare go skyward, they would "freeze," or stiffen and hold their position rigidly, just like a trained hunting dog pointing a bird. Immobility was our best protection. Rigid as a statue, we had a chance of being mistaken for some of the shell shattered trees and stumps scattered over No-Man's-Land. If you made many moves you were sure to draw the attention of some enemy marksman.
The flares were just about like our home fireworks. Instead of a variety of colors they usually cast off a sickly blue-white and sometimes yellow light. They would hang poised in the air for a few seconds, then gradually fade out. The minute a flare was shot into the air you would hear the "tat-tat-tat" of machine guns. Then came the zing of sharpshooters' lead, searching human targets in No-Man's-Land.
The use of flares was a most effective protection, practiced by both sides. The sound of the machine guns is just like the cornpressed-air riveter you hear on a steel construction job.
No one thing outside of air raids could keep your heart jumping and your mind on edge, like duty on a raiding party in the deep black gloom of night.
THE FLARE
Your heart is all a-jumping and your nerves are all a-chill,
When you start to go a-raiding on a night that's dark and still;
You dare not speak in whispers, and you dare not make a sound,
When you go a-sneaking, creeping, o'er that cold war-blasted ground.
When Jerry shoots his star-shells in that war-weird night,
You are a mark for snipers shooting, your heart is filled with fright;
You lay stock-still and breathless and you pray you'll not be shot,
When his blue-white flare lights up the sky you wait for - God knows what.
Throughout a night that-is sometimes dim and sometimes lit by flare,
Through an endless age in No-Man's-Land you crawl and pray and swear;
If you live to see the dawn again you will know you learned "Out There,"
The thing that put real fear in you was Jerry's blue-white flare.
IT'S A LOUSY ARMY AT THE BEST
EVERYBODY in this man's army is getting fed up with army life. The chow is nothing to brag about. Before we hit the lines we thought it was tough, but now that we're in the lines we know that it was AAA food we had been served. Now that we are existing on dried bully beef and hard tack that pulls all the fillings from your teeth, we can appreciate what we used to grumble about. But at that it is better than an empty belly so most of us have learned to quit grumbling about the food. A certain pal of mine, Dick Coe, was always complaining about the food but today he floored me when he started his complaint against the army. Here was what was on his mind. I am the champion fall guy for these groaners.
"Without a question, Mae, this is the lousiest army I was ever in. And the worst part of it is these damn greybacks. The way they breed and multiply on a soldier beats all hell.
"Only yesterday I 'read my shirt.' Took it off and peeled to the skin. Then sat in a raw, damp wind just for the privilege of getting rid of these pests. Cleaned off every last one of them, and went through my shirt and tunic. Must have been a million eggs in the seams. Even went over my cap and leggings. It took three whole hours, Mac. When I finished I would have sworn I was the cleanest man in the A.E.F.
"Here it is less than twelve hours after, and I am alive with the crawly pests again. Wonder what it
would seem like to have a nice clean bath? To have clean underwear to crawl into? And socks that weren't rotting on your feet. And shoes that you could get into without a crowbar, and that you could lift with one hand.
,,I had all those things once. When? A thousand years ago, I guess. Remember, Mac, when we joined up? Maybe that was the time. Remember all those medals we were going to win? Then come home and show off? Knock our girls for a loop? Remember that, Mac?"
"We never thought about greybacks then, did we? Cooties, some calls them. Either way they are a pain in the neck to me. I'd like to split everyone of their cute little throats with the hot point of a razor blade. Which reminds me, I even dug them out of my hair yesterday, and one or two loose ones out of this nice red beard I am wearing.
"Wouldn't my girl think I was a cute little hero if she could see me now? Dammit, Mac, I can't stand it any longer. I am going to sit down in this damn French mud and 'read my shirt again. War or no war. I am going to get rid of these damn cooties."
COOTIES
When you are standing at attention,
And cooties bite and scratch below,
And your lousy captain bawls you out,
Ain't it bell?-Well I'll say so.
Have you ever had that itchy troop
Doing squads both East and West,
Across your tired shoulders
And underneath your vest?
Or in your helmet-sweated hair,
Or on your pain-racked shins,
The way those devils pinch and bite,
Is a climax to war's sins.
In the "lines" big generals bad them,
Every captain raised his share,
But there was plenty hell a-popping,
When a "buck" had one to spare.
You can have my flock of grey ones,
For I sure have had my fill,
And if Napoleon started this,
He's the bird I'd like to kill.
A SNIPER'S DUTY
I HAVE tried to avoid doing sniper's duty, first at camp, then in the lines. The sergeant told the captain I was a good shot. That's what comes from being raised on a ranch, spending half your time with a rifle in your hand. I didn't mind hunting then, but this is different. Or is it? After all, a life is a life - even to a dumb animal. I vow to God on high, if I am spared to come through this alive I will never fire another rifle.
I don't like this business of being hidden, lying in wait for the sight of the enemy. With these high powered rifles and telescopic sights, what chance would they have? A man is not like an animal, that can sense
danger by the powers it possesses. He cannot smell danger with the shifting of the wind. He can only guess at it, and usually he guesses wrong.
The enemy we are fighting seems to be the same as we, except that they speak another language. I notice that when we capture them there seems to be no hatred on their part - or on ours. We exchange one thought more than any other, "What are we fighting one another for, you and IF' Left alone, the average man would never think of war.
Guided by the power-crazed mind of autocrats of royal blood, or the commoner who sits in high position, we are drawn into war like puppets on a string. Puppets cannot speak their minds, not wooden puppets at least. They are managed by the hand of man pulling strings. Human puppets can speak their mind, but seldom do. Like puppets, they too are pulled on strings. Only the strings are made of words by the scant few ... words that become "hinges of death" when the puppets march to war.
These thoughts keep running through my mind as I lay here high up on the hillside, on this hidden outpost. With a high power rifle in my hand. Waiting. Waiting . . . for an enemy to come up that path which lies far below me in the valley.
My eyes are dizzy from steadily watching one spot. The dense underbrush seems to rustle in the breeze. Is it a false alarm? Or is it an enemy coming through the lines. Finally I am sure. I see a greyclad figure below me. He moves cautiously, looking about him carefully before taking a step. I draw my rifle to my shoulder. Through the telescopic sights he is as plain as though he were a few feet in front of me. I could easily kill him from here yet I hesitate to do so. But knowing war for what it is now, that it is either his life or mine, there is nothing left for me to do but pull the trigger. As I felt the heavy recoil of the rifle against my shoulder I knew that another bullet was speeding toward its mark.
I WONDER
1. wonder if my enemy, who is hunting me right now,
Was once a boy the same as I, and took a childish vow,
Never to kill a little bird, or ever rob a nest,
Always to say his prayers at night, before he went to rest.
I wonder if that hand of his that holds a sniper's gun,
Once stroked his mother's hair with love, or her face in boyish fun;
I wonder if his mother is a mother just like mine,
Who says a prayer to God each night, to keep him safe and fine.
I wonder if he thinks of me, as I am thinking too,
I wonder if be doesn't yearn, for his mother sweet and true;
I wonder if he really hates the man he hunts at war,
Or if like me he wonders just what he's fighting for.
I wonder if he sees me now, as I creep up on him,
I wonder if I'm covered by this broken half-leafed limb,
I wonder if he'll aim and fire, when I say "raise up your hands,"
I wonder if our God on high sees us and understands.
I wonder whether he or I will pay the price supreme,
When we come upon each other in this part of war's mad dream;
I wonder if our mothers, will kneel tonight and pray,
To keep their loved sons free from harm, to come back home some day. '
A GODDESS OF MERCY
JOE got back from the hospital today. Said he had never seen anything like it. Twice while he was there they were bombed. Came close, but not close enough to do any harm. Said the nurses there were God's angels on earth. They worked right through bombings and never batted an eyelash. There weren't many of them, but what there were went a long way. It was almost worth getting wounded just to get where you could see an American woman again, and to know that there was something in this war that was decent and clean.
The boy who was on the cot next to Joe's didn't have a chance. The nurse used to come to him every time he started calling for his mother. He was just a kid. It was only a question of time, a few days at the best. A high explosive shell fragment hit him right above the hip. Joe said the nurse was everything to him. When he was delirious she would pretend that she was his mother. The kid would say over and over again, "I knew you would come, mother . . . I knew You would come." And the nurse would take his hand and talk to him. She kept her head turned and was facing Joe. He saw tears rolling down her cheeks as she kept biting her lip to hold them back. Even the hard-boiled guys who lay there forgot about themselves and started pulling for the kid. But they knew it was no use-his number was up.
Joe said the way those nurses stood up under all that strain, he would never know. They would work side by side with the surgeons and then do nursing duty on top of it, until they were dead on their feet, but they still kept on going. They were the real soldiers of war to hear Joe tell it. They were in tougher spots than we were most of the time because of the constant bombing. He said that twice while be was there they were bombed at night by bombing planes, and that all you could do was lay there and pray while you waited for each bomb to bit. That enemy planes were no respecters of hospitals, any more than they were of front line objectives was proven to him, when he lay in that hospital bed flat on his back, unable to move a finger to help himself.
At that though, he said, it was worth the risk to be there, just to lie in a bed again on clean white sheets. It must be like heaven from what Joe says. Someone to bring you grub and have clean water to drink. Boy, that must be heaven, or as close to it as a soldier will ever get.
I had always thought that war was a man's game and that he was the only thing tough enough to stand up under it. Well Joe sure changed my mind about that. I know from my own experience that bombing can put more fear in you than any other form of warfare. You are helpless when in a bombing raid, and when I think of those women working right through those raids on hospitals, and never batting an eyelash, my hat is off to them.
LITTLE GRAY SISTER
How ready your smile for war's wounded things,
How brave your heart though it never sings;
How staunch your fight some life to save,
How truly you are one of war's brave,
As you sit and watch the still nights through;
And pray for some soldier you never knew.
Here in hospitals in war-shattered France,
You too are a soldier taking war's chance;
When a battle is over your fight's just begun,
You are braver than many who carried a gun.
You were mother and sweetheart,
sister and wife,
As you fight the battle of saving a life.
It was you standing by some worn surgeon's side,
Fighting to dam up life's ebbing tide;
You have no medals nor the world's
loud acclaim,
But to the soldier you nursed you will never need fame.
"Little Gray Sister" who fought clay and night,
You were "Goddess of Mercy" and a bit of all right."
A BUDDY GOES WEST
'
This business of war is a strange thing. You see men drop alongside of you, coughing and threshing in the throes of death, the blood stream of their wounds gushing to the ground. Yet it does not affect you. Have we not gone for days now with death walking constantly beside us, our steadfast companion?
The whining shells overhead take on a deeper meaning. We can recognize the size of each shell by its sound. The slow turning swishing ones are gas shells. Their slow flight spells greater danger than the roaring big ones higher up. The sharp, whining minnewerfer or whizbang we hear only occasionally, then only when we are fighting at close quarters.
Strangest of all this business of killing are the presentiments or hunches that come to every man. They are uncannily accurate. Among us we say, "unless a shell has my name on it, I'll come out okay." How many of my former comrades have come to me, each with the same look on his face, to bid a last goodbye.
By some intuition deeper than science has yet probed, each man comes to know when he is to "Go West." We soon learned that we could not push these thoughts out of our mind by idle jesting. Each recurrent happening only welded deeper an undeniable truth-that there was some power greater than ours that told us when our time had come.
Less than a third of our original company was left. Casualties had been heavy. The dense underbrush and forest of the Argonne was taking heavy toll of our forces. For four years the Germans had occupied this territory. Every known device of the science of war had been concealed there waiting invading troops. More than sixty thousand Frenchmen had given their lives in an effort to capture it. They did not make a dent on this natural stronghold occupied by the enemy.
Yet there we were, green, raw troops, many of us not out of our 'teens, steadily forging ahead each day, pushing the enemy back at a frightful price of life. We moved with the slow, heavy tread of machines. Stalking through the woods, like walking automatons, we seemed to be without blood, or flesh, or heart, or soul.
On the eve of our last drive my best buddy came to me to say goodbye. We had grown up together back home. So far we bad come through this carnage unscathed. But I knew by the look on his face now that here was another hunch - that his number was up. He had been one of eight selected to go on a dangerous raiding party. He passed me a few trinkets to take back to his folks, and his words still ring in my mind.
TONIGHT I DIE
Out in the night where the cruel wire strands
Of entanglements are laid,
Tonight I shall take the hand of Death And walk with him unafraid.
The sun went down with a ruddy glare As red as the red of gore,
And I gazed at its rays with greedy eyes For me it will rise no more.
I raised my eyes to count each star And bid it a last farewell.
And the brightest one made a long gold line Across the sky as it fell.
I cannot know where we shall meet,
I and the Man called Death,
But I know I will greet him unaware And speak with my final breath.
Long have I seen his shadowed shape, Stalking across the land.
Many the friend that has stumbled out And taken him by the hand.
So the stars wheel by in my last dark sky And this is the end of strife
A watch that glows on my muddy wrist And measures away my life.
THE BOX BARRAGE
DURING the course of our fighting in the Argonne Forest we engaged in a terrific battle that nearly wiped out our company. For days we had been fighting through the heart of the central ravine of the forest steep, heavily wooded banks rose from either side of a creek bed at the bottom of the gulch. We kept pretty close to the path that had been laid out there.
Part of the time we followed the course of the stream. Then the road would rise halfway up the hill. It was at these high points that we were most cautious. For it was in such places that we afforded the best targets for enemy machine guns and snipers, lying concealed everywhere in the dense underbrush of the forest.
To avoid one such exposure, we were given orders to cut a path through the underbrush. This we did with our bayonets. Much to our surprise, we went through without being fired on. We came to a bend in the ravine. Then we could see directly ahead why we had come through without being molested.
In a little clearing in front of us was what remained of a large building. The Germans had been using it as a headquarters. One of our heavy artillery shells had made a direct hit on the roof, crushing it to the ground. The splintered wood and logs were scattered all around. The foundation, which was made of small stones, was crushed and mashed out of shape. The building, sagging there, looked like some great wounded thing waiting for first aid.
Strewn over the ground in front of the building were the bodies of many of the enemy, fully a dozen or more. God alone knew how many were buried inside the building. Many of the bodies did not have a scratch on them. Apparently they had been killed from the shock of the explosion.
Hardly had we reached this opening than we were strafed with machine gun and sniper fire. There was no place for us to go except straight up the hillside. The underbrush offered cover. Quickly we climbed to a ridge and safety near the crest of the hill. We rested there while the top-sergeant counted noses. A regimental runner came to our sergeant, giving him an order.
The order read that we were to advance to the top of the hill. There we would find an apple orchard. We were to wait there for the support of our one pound (Stokes) mortars. Then we were to advance through the orchard until we came to the top of two dugouts. This was to be our objective.
I was close by the sergeant when the order was received.
"Apple orchard," he laughed, "Well, maybe this is a new way of getting our rations."
None of us could imagine an orchard in this forest. All we had seen for days was war-blasted, blackened trees, wounded things of war. Yet when we reached the top of the hill, there was the orchard. Stretching
out for at least a mile ahead, and fully two blocks wide. We learned later that it had been planted there many years before by priests.
Our Stokes mortars came up and were placed in position. A few trial shots were fired towards the tops of two dugouts, which we could see ahead of us. The trees were scattered, and there was much open land between. We were dubious about exposing ourselves in this open country. We had been fighting in the forest long that instinctively we looked to it for protection.
Nothing happened when the trial shots were fired. We waited a few minutes. Then the sergeant gave the order to charge the hill. Spreading out in open formation as skirmishers, we took what scant protection the apple trees offered. Much to our surprise we advanced to our objective without opposition from the enemy. In view of our constant battling for the last week, this puzzled us.
We set up two light machine guns on the tops of two dugouts. To reach them we had to cut our way through about a hundred feet of old barbwire entanglements. This stopped short of the objective by about fifty feet. Between the wire and dugouts was an abandoned trench, built in the zig-zag style common to the earlier front line trenches.
Hardly were the machine guns placed when all hell broke loose. The tense silence of the last half hour turned to an inferno of war made hell; barking guns, whining shells, and the sharp zing of rifle bullets. A German airplane appeared and circled above us. The pilot made no attempt to strafe us with gunfire. In. stead he signaled our position to the German artillery. Knowing what would follow, our men took cover, seeking safety in the old trench behind us.
This was our greatest mistake. Apparently it was just as the Germans had planned it. No sooner were the men lined up in the trench than we found ourselves the center of a box barrage. To form this barrage, the enemy laid their shells down just behind the barbed wire and trench, then hemming it in on both sides, this left our from open for machine gun and rifle fire strafing.
The machine guns on top of the dugouts were manned by five men each. It was a pitiably weak comeback in exchange for the pounding we were taking from the enemy. At any moment we expected to see the Germans come popping out of the two dugouts forming our position. But this did not happen. Instead the German artillery began laying down one pound shells on top of the poor devils huddled in the trench. For them there was no escape. Those of us handling the machine guns were better off in our exposed position, even though it was worth your life to raise up and fire the guns.
There was no avenue of escape except through the barbed wire. Finally our sergeant ordered us to retreat. Then the enemy increased the intensity of their machine gun fire. Enmeshed in that treacherous wire, more than one poor devil passed on to the Great Beyond.
We were ordered to cover the retreat with the machine guns. This we did. In the meantime our one pounders came to the rescue. Reinforced with an additional battery of Stokes mortars, they took a position behind us, pounding the enemy back. Thoroughly disorganized, we fell back to a hill in the rear. After a checkup we learned that nearly ninety men of our company had been killed or wounded in the fight.
That night three of us were placed on outpost duty in the ravine below the hill that had cost us so dearly that day. We had no sooner taken our position when a sniper killed one of my two comrades. I hardly knew the men with me, for the day had been a horrible dream. It was hard to believe it had actually happened. Yet I knew it to be so. As we started to dig a shallow grave to bold the body of our dead comrade, I learned that the other soldier with me was Dago Tony. He was an undersized Italian boy, possibly twenty-eight years of age, an old timer in the company and a veteran of several battles.
Lying there the first night, we broke into confidences, as men under fire will do. We waited throughout the next day. No relief reached us. We felt we were through, and that our numbers were up; that it was only a matter of hours until we would be captured or shot out. Then the Italian boy told me his story.
TREASURES
Treasures in bits of papers,
Treasures in mines of gold,
Treasures in age-dimmed relies,
And in paintings worn and old.
Each to his way of thinking,
Has a treasure in his grasp,
I got mine from a roughneck,
It lay in a simple hand-clasp.
Up in the lines in the heat of a fight,
With the devil as our host,
He had shown us all his tricks and stunts,
In a lonely listening post.
No water, no food, no shelter,
There we had lain for days;
Wounded and slowly dying,
With our eyes beginning to glaze.
The orders had been to hold that post,
Against all odds that might come,
And we were sticking it out alone,
just me and my Dago chum.
I suppose there are those who'd call him a "wop,"
This soldier who lay there with me,
Yet he was fighting hard as I,
Who was cradled in liberty.
It was, "Whata-da-hell? let 'em a-come,
We fight 'em a-hard, you and I!
Whatsa da deeff'? It's-a all for da cause,
And somatime we moosta die.
Myself, I got da sweet-a leetla wife,
That's-a wait at home for me,
Deesa war she's-a one dam tougha game,
But we got to hava liberty."
Then Tony told me his story,
As we lay in post number four,
Why he was so willing to fight and die,
For a land he would always adore.
"When I was joosta leetla boy,
Back cena Sunny Italy,
I heara my father speak of a-thing,
That he calla da Liberty.
He tell of a country datsa paveda with gold,
Where every a-man is da same,
Where me and ever-a-boddy that try,
Has gotta da chance for da fame.
Where no king anda queen can tella you,
Joosta what you got to do,
I'ma get think' to myself,
How grand if datsa true.
So by and by, I grow up,
Beeg, stronga boy, 'bout seexteen,
And come along in a steeraga boat,
To the land of my wonderful dream.
There I find its joosta so true,
Whata papa say she's a-right,
I'ma live ina great free country,
My owna boss, every day and night.
Why evrathing is joosta so free,
You almosta like the bird,
You only worka so much each day,
Not a lika da sheep are you herd.
Den, I meet my sweet-a Marie,
An' we getta marry one day,
Then build a preety leetla home
By time, babee come to stay.
I tella you evrathing is so nice,
I'ma get along joosta fine,
Untila da Kaiz', he getta so fresh,
Joosta 'bout deesa time.
Evrathing he want to take,
Mak-a do joosta what he said,
I tella you, I no lika dat stoff,
I'ma much ratha be dead.
So I graba da gun and come along,
Lik-a all da rest who are here,
'Cause I'ma gonna fight, for a-what is right,
And-a my leetla home so dear.
Please-a wait, you lie quiet,
While I look around a beet,
But-a donta forget, to tell. Marie,
Ina case I'ma mabbe get heet
He took and shook me by the hand,
Then started out alone,
To me it brought an awakening,
To the treasure that I own.
So I'm done with material treasures,
Such as relics, mines, and things,
And treasure instead the memories,
Of love that sacrifice brings.
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