As is the case with most of us, I have lots of relatives who served in the military, and some who served as civilian contractors in wartime. All who are direct ancestors survived their service more or less unscathed, something in which I think I -- and my relatives, of course -- are exceptionally fortunate.
I've already written about how my maternal grandfather, Shug Thomas, had a really Lucky stint in the Army Air Force during World War I. That theme follows through on many of the others -- many of them enlisted as boys, with little experience of the world, and came home with valuable skills, life experience and sometimes even money. Whatever horrors they experienced, it seems they were able to overcome those memories to live happy lives. "Lucky" may not even begin to cover it, really.
My paternal great-great grandfather Bernard Sturn was seven when his parents and five siblings emigrated from Germany. While many suffered considerably on similar voyages, the Sturns were apparently well-prepared and Bernard remembered it as more of an adventure than for any hardship. They traveled immediately from New York to Monroe, Michigan, which relatives and former neighbors had indicated was a town with good prospects and a strong German Catholic tradition already in place. Sadly, his mother, Marianne, died only two years later; eldest daughter, Ida, took over running of the household.
By the time he was 13, Bernard had "finished" classes taught through the local church, and was working as a 'printer's devil,' a publisher's assistant who cranked the press, ran errands and even set type, thus ending up covered in ink, hence the nickname. Bernard was 16 when he enlisted in the 14th Ohio Infantry in nearby Toledo, Ohio. While some boys enlisted of town in order to more easily lie about their age -- the minimum age for regular Army was 18 -- at 16, Bernard was old enough to legally enlist as a musician. He served for a year, traveling to Tennessee, Kentucky, North Caroline and Arkansas, before mustering out when the Army put an end to Regimental Bands, allowing only two musicians (bugle, drum or fife) per Company. Presumably, therefore, Bernard played some kind of instrument, but nothing very large as he was apparently a scrawny 5'4". Musicians were sometimes pressed into battlefield roles, and I'm sure Bernard saw some awful things and experienced some very hard times, but I suspect that his youth and slight build encouraged many of his fellow soldiers to offer him some protection and support. I also suspect his service was very grounding, providing some savings and a great deal of motivation to make his way in the world.
Following his discharge, he took the train back to Michigan where he went to work as an apprentice baker, then opening a saloon with the help of two of his siblings. In 1872, Bernard married Mathilda Hoffman, the daughter of Monroe grocer, Leopold Hoffman, and together they had thirteen children, only one of whom did not survive to adulthood, quite a rarity in the records that I have seen. Over time, Bernard added groceries and ready-made meals to his retail establishment, undoubtedly with the support of his father-in-law.
At age 62, Bernard became eligible for his military pension, and I imagine that figured into his decision to retire, turning his business over to son John. I requested a copy of his pension file from the government and it is an amazing trove of information. Initially, there was a bit of back-and-forth attempting to establish that he was who he said he was -- they had a 45-year-old physical description but did not have his signature to match, and so ended up taking his word along with that of some personal witnesses as sworn in front of a Notary Public. Bernard was awarded $12 per month, which would have the buying power of about $400 today. When he turned 70, he requested and was granted an increase in his pension, to $20 (about $560 today) per month.
Bernard and Mathilda celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in 1922. Bernard was debilitated by heart and kidney disease in his last years, and his daughter, Clara, wrote to request a pension increase to $72 a month to cover nursing costs, but Bernard died in 1927 before it was granted. Mathilda was given a $30 a month pension as his widow, however, until her death a year later.
Bernard's year as a Civil War musician was important to him, aside from the financial assistance it gave him both in starting out in business and his later pension. He was a member of the local G.A.R. chapter ("Grand Army of the Republic," the fraternal organization for Civil War veterans). His obituary reported that he was always prominent at Remembrance Day ceremonies and parades. The hearty words in his biography and obituary resonate -- I get the impression that he was a generally a happy, generous and affable man with a strong sense of civic duty and responsibility. I believe he also felt a need to bear witness for and pay tribute to those who made greater sacrifices for their country, perhaps to care for them as they had watched over him.
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