Memorial Day 2020

Honoring those who gave their all

Today is Memorial Day here in the United States — the official holiday on which we honor those who gave all for the cause of American freedom.

It’s time set aside for us all — The Legal Genealogist included — to pause and to honor the men and women who died in the service of this country in order that we might live free.

This day, I will spend a time thinking about those from my own family who made that ultimate sacrifice.

Richard Baker. Just 23 years old when he died, that cold December day in 1776. Unmarried. Leaving no descendants. He was born 23 December 1753, most likely in Culpeper County, Virginia.¹

As far as we’ve been able to determine, he was the 10th of 13 children born to Thomas and Dorothy (Davenport) Baker of Virginia,² and he was serving with his older brother, my fourth great grandfather David Baker, in the 3rd Virginia Regiment of the Continental Line when Washington crossed the Delaware just after dark on Christmas Day 1776. They were headed to what is known today as the Battle of Trenton.

Washington wanted to attack just after daybreak but the crossing took longer than expected. By 6:00 A.M., the storm not abating, the conditions were miserable. One commander sent word that the men’s muskets would not fire due to being exposed to the elements. Washington sent word back to rely on the bayonet: “I am resolved to take Trenton.”³ Somehow, Washington and his troops succeeded in taking Trenton, and they did so at a small cost to his small force.

But part of that cost was paid by Richard.

There aren’t any details of his death. Just a poignant and quiet statement by his brother David many years later when David applied for a pension: “In a few days after we joined the main army the battle of White Plains was fought. We retreated & recrossed the Deleware The next Battle was at Trenton the 26th of Decemb – I was guarding the Baggage during the battle & had a Brother by the name of Richard killd in that action.”⁴

Fast forward less than 100 years to the great conflict that split this nation. Most of my mother’s family wore Confederate grey, but some did not: in particular, one group of my Battles cousins from Cherokee County, Alabama, were loyal to the Union, and proudly donned Union blue, joining the 3rd Tennessee Cavalry in 1863.

Isaac Battles and his cousins James, Russell and William F. Battles went off to war. Only Russell came home. Isaac, James and William F. Battles all perished, not in the war itself, but in the explosion and sinking of the steamer the Sultana in April 1865, with some 1700 or more other Union soldiers just freed from Confederate prisoner of war camps.

Their compiled military service records tell the story

• Isaac, “Killed or drowned by the explosion of Str Sultana, April 24th 1865.”⁵

• James, “Perished by the Explosion of the Steamer Sultana.”⁶

• William F., “Perished by the Explosion of the Steamer ‘Sultana.’”⁷

They too paid the ultimate price.

Fast forward less than 100 years more, and my mother’s cousin Philip Cottrell ranks among the fallen.

Born in South Dakota 16 April 1920,⁸ to John W. Cottrell, my grandfather’s brother, and Abigail Claymore, John’s second wife,⁹ Philip was Abigail’s only child.¹⁰

He was a South Dakota Golden Gloves boxing champion and the first in his family to go to college, first attending the South Dakota State College in 1939-40 and then receiving an appointment by Rep. Francis Case, in 1941, to the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis.¹¹ By 1942, however, Philip — like many enrolled in the nation’s service academies — had opted out of the classroom and into active duty, resigning from the Naval Academy in May 1942 in favor of the Marine Corp air wing. He wanted to fly — and he earned both his wings and a second lieutenant’s commission at Corpus Christi, Texas, in 1943.¹²

He was assigned to a training squadron at the Mojave Marine Corps Air Station — a station which saw four pilots killed in training accidents between the 13th of August and the 7th of September in 1943.¹³

And the first to die in those terrible weeks… Philip Cottrell.

Philip’s roommate, Lieut. James Seay, told a local newspaper:

The squadron had gone up about 2:30 p.m. to get in a couple hours of target practice. Phil was piloting the tow plane. When he attempted to let out the long target sleeve, it became entangled and wouldn’t unfold. Having no target to shoot at, the squadron decided to go back to the base. Phil was to pull in the “sleeve” and follow them in. Apparently, the target was blown up against the side of the engine as Phil was hauling it toward the cockpit, and it became ignited. His plane afire, Lt. Cottrell had no choice but to jump. It is believed the fuselage of the plane struck him on the head as he leaped. He never pulled the ripcord.¹⁴

Richard. Isaac. James. William. And Philip.

Each of them gave his life for the freedom that all of his kin — and all of us Americans — enjoy today.

And today, on this Memorial Day 2020, we express our thanks.

To all of them.

And to all who have given their all that we might live free.

Cite/link to this post: Judy G. Russell, “Memorial Day 2020,” The Legal Genealogist (https://www.legalgenealogist.com/blog : posted 25 May 2020).

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