Tazewell County, IL Genealogy Trails
Charles O. Hansen 1894-1918

Charles O. Hansen was born May 22, 1894 in Groveland township, Tazewell  county, Illinois in the home of his parents who lived at that time on one of the romantic bluffs that overlook the beautiful Illinois river valley and the city of Peoria, Illinois, on the opposite side of the river.

  At this place or in the near vicinity, Charlie spent his entire life, up to his going away to the army for which reason there were few if any, better known and more popular young men in this township than he . He was educated in the best schools that his community afforded; his educational career beginning and ending in the schools of district 76.

 When he grew to young manhood, he adopted the vocation of his father, who was a professional miner. Charlie was a most energetic workre and rose rapidly to the position of mine manager, acting in that capacity at No. 1, of the Groveland Coal Company up to the time of his departure.

 On April 2nd, 1918, he laid aside his mining tools, never to take them up again. He had heard the call of his country and left home and friends and profession to respond. His first stop was at Camp Dodge, Iowa. Perhaps no part of the army was advanced more rapidly than was his for walready on the 25th of April, Charlie and his command were hastening on to Camp Mills, New York. Only a few days were spent there when they embark on the ship, Carpathia, which sailed from the American shores on May 2, just one month to the day after Charlie had left home.

 On May 14 he landed at Liverpool, England where some time was spent in the various American rest and training camps, after which he crossed the English Channel, landing at La Harve, France. From this place, he made his way with his division, slowly but surely to the front, where he arrived in the Argonne region in the latter part of September. On September 26th, a bugle sounded out the "to arms" call. Other bugles took up the refrain, sounding it along the lines, followed by the quickstep forward march and Charlie, with his comrades, went into action for the first time.

  On the following day, September 27, while charging across an openfield, a forest blazing death meeted out by the enemy, Charlie went down in the first ranks, under the force of a fearful shrapnel wound in the hip.

 On September 28, he was seen by a wounded comrade in Base Hospital No. 116, while he was being shaved by a convalescent comrade, who was using Charlie's white handled razor that he had taken with him from home. The wounded comrade, who saw him there was a member of Charlie's company and says that the place was either Charmont or Neu-chi-tau. This is the last word of information that reached us concerning Charlie from any one who was personally acquainted with him.Here follows an official communication that came to the  family of the dead soldier in due time:

Charles O. Hansen was a member of the order of Odd Fellows and also belonged to the great family of United Mine Workers of America, Local 1800.

Good night, Charlie, till we meet in the morning.
Our eyes grow dim when we are compelled to  mark your life's sunset before it was noon.
The other world will know no more cruel wars that exact or best as their fearful toll. Peace be to thy ashes.

Silently, Peacefully Sleeping Today

1. Silently, peacefully sleeping today, Heroes whose glory shall ne'er pass away, Those who have fought for us long, long ago, Who for their Country true valor did show. Shed we no tears for them, speak not sad words, While Spring is dawning with music of birds. With sacred silence pass by where they lay---- Silently, peacefully, sleeping today.

2. Silently, peacefully, sleeping today, While sunlight's glories upon their graved play, Those whom their country may never forget, Greatest of heroes our land has known yet. Still will their memories, noble and pure, In the world's records forever endure, And their's a glory beyond life's decay, Silently, peacefully, sleeping today.

3.  Silently, peacefully, sleeping today, Heroes of war that has now died away, God grant in our land may long be a peace; That war andcarnage shall evermore cease. So every Spring may still dawn with a calm, Bringing its beauties; our life's sweetest balm, Last of all soldiers and heroes be they, Silently, Peacefully, sleepig today.

Chorus

Silently, Peacefully, Silently, Peacefully, sleeping today

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Tazewell County, IL Genealogy Trails
Robert Cox 1891-1918

Robert Cox was born October 6, 1891 at Secor, Woodford County, Illinois. He was educated in the school of the community in which he lived, after which he took up the occupation of farming. He lived in the community of his birth until the year of 1915, when he came with his parents and their family to Groveland Township, Tazewell County, Illinois, who took up their abode in the beautiful Inter-urban valley near the Glendale school in District 75, where they still reside. The muttering of war disturbed the quiet of even this pleasant home, situated so securely in the vastness of those grand and picturesque hills and although a mother's heart bled, her noble son, Robert, began his making ready for the fray inheed to his country's call. About the middle of December, 1917, he left the pleasant valley, never to return. He went with his associates to Jefferson Barracks, St. Louis, Missouri, the place where the now illustrious and immortal General Grant took up his first commission after graduating from our military school at West Point on September 30, 1843. After several weeks of preliminaries at Jefferson Barracks, Robert was transferred with his command to Ft. Bliss, Okla., where he spent nearly six months in preparation for the great conflict. It was during this time that he became interested in the Christian religion to a greater degree than ever before and was converted in one of the army camp meetings; applied for membership and was admitted into the Methodist Episcopal Church of East peoria on January 22, 1918. This following letter written by himself from camp must be of interest to all:

Shortly after the above letter was written, Robert, with his company left Ft. Sill for the east, stopping only a few days at Camp Mills, New York. On July 4 he addressed his first letter from abroad to his mother . August brought her another. On September 1, he wrote another and in less than a week from that time as though impelled by an unseen power and hastening lest it be too late, he wrote another on September 7, in which he said "good bye" and it was his last. The letter that follows, written by his colonel, tells why it was so:

The Unseen City

"I think of a city I have not seen, Except in my hours of dreaming, Where the feet of mortals have never been To darken its soft, soft gleaming, A glimmer of pearl, a glint of gold, And a breath from the souls of roses, And beauty and glory all untold, Steal over my calm reposes.

I think of a city, for oh, how oft My soul has been wrung at parting--- With friends all pale, who, with foot-falls soft, To its airy heights were starting. I see them again, in their raiment white, In the blue, blue distance dwelling, And I hear their praises in calm delight Come down on the breezes swelling.

That beautiful city is Home to me, My loved ones are going thither, And they who already have crossed the sea Are calling, come hither, hither, The tender eyes that I worshipped here From the golden heights behold me--- And their songs entrance my rapture ear, When the wings of sleep enfold me."

("The Unseen City" is one of a class of songs that were favorites of the departed Soldier; and is sang on this occasion by the choir at the request of his mother.)

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Tazewell County, IL Genealogy Trails
 

ALFRED EURICK SCHOEDEL

1896-1918

Alfred Eurick Schoedel was born on the 5th of August, 1896, in Rastoch, in Mecklenburg, Germany. He emigrated to the United States of America with his parents when he was three years old, celebrating his third birthday enroute on the Atlantic Ocean. His parents located at Vincennes, Indiana, where the little Alfred lived for one year. The family then came to Peoria, Illinois where Alfred grew to manhood. He enjoyed the privilege of the Peoria schools in which he was educated.

After finishing his education, he learned the trade of meat cutter in which vocation he found steady employment. His family later moved to Groveland township, Tazewell County, Illinois, where they still reside in their new pleasant home at th top of the Springfield Road bluff, close by the prosperous city of East Peoria. Alred was one of the first to enlist in the services of his country, immediately upon our entering into the world war against Germany, the land of his nativity; and became a part of the 74th Company of the 6th Regiment of the United States Marines. On the 17th of April, 1917 just twelve days after the congress of the United States of America declared that a state of war existed with Germany, he left his home for Chicago, Illinois, from which place with the rest of his company, he went to Paris Island, South Carolina for preparation. During the fore part of June he was transferred with his command to Quantico, Virginia, for further perfection. It was at this place that he proved his special ability in marksmanship and was awarded a medal for his proficiency. Desirous of seeing his father and mother and brothers and sisters once again before crossing the ocean to the conflict he procured a ten days' furlough, and came home to spend his 21st birthday with those whom he loved. Those precious days quickly passed and he left his dear ones in the Groveland home for the last time and went back to his command. He left this country about the 16th of September and the next communication that his people had from him came from France about the 7th of November. The winter months passed by in succession each bringing a letter from Alfred across th ocean all full of good cheer and happy confidence, despite his dangerous position. He was with the sharp shooter working on special detail. In the 1918 May 4th number of Leslie's Weekly portrays him with his squad among its war pictures on page 413. He wrote his last letter to his dear ones on the 11th of April, 1918. The letter was very similar in tone to all of his preceding ones with the exception of the last sentence. It would seem as though a presentment cast a shadow across the page with its dark wing, and he wrote:

"I think that I shall get a furlough soon, this is all that I have got to say, so good bye".
With love to all, Alfred.

A day or so later April 13th, between the hours of 4 and 8:30 a.m., he was gassed, from the result of which he died on April 18th, 1918, just one year and a day after that day that he had left home for the first time.

He was buried with military honors, in th French section of the rambluizin cemetery, on the Meuse, France, on the 20th of April, 1918, in grave number 28. Here follows a letter received by the family, from the chaplain who had charge of the religious part of his funeral:

Somewhere in France, April 23, 1918 To Mrs. Martha Schoedel:  Dear Madam: - You have already been informed by the department of the defense of your son, Alfred Eurick Schodel, and I am writing to express to you my most heartfelt sympathy. Your boy gave his life for his country, and for the principles of humanity, and even thou the sorrow is hard to bear, yet the consolation of knowing that he did his best and gave his all for that which we hold most precious, takes away a part of the sting of the loss. Every comfort was given him, everything was done for him that could be done while he was alive, and he was given a Christian burial. I can not tell any of the details but be assured that I sorrow with you, for the men of the regiment are all "My Boys". May God's blessing be upon you, J. D. McNair, Chaplain, U. S. A.

Sweet Be Their Sleep

Softly on beds of glory, These heroes we honor are lying today; Telling a nation's story That never shall pass away. Battles are over at last, Long, weary marches are past, Safe from the din, and the blast, Resting from battle array. Never shall foreman in battle o'retake them Never the thunder of cannon awake them. Peaceful, and deep, Peaceful, and deep, Sweet be their sleep, Sweet be their sleep! 

Over their peaceful slumber---- We scatter our flowerets year after year; Each one among their number------ In memory ever dear; Sleep, for the struggle is o'er; Rest from the din, and the roar; Dread the reveille no more, Sleep, till the Judge appear. Never shall foreman in battle o'retake them Never the thunder of cannon awake them. Peaceful, and deep, Peaceful, and deep, Sweet be their sleep, Sweet be their sleep!
(Jennie Ree)

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Tazewell County, IL Genealogy Trails
 

Charles H. Voight

1887-1918

Charles H. Voight was born on the thirteenth of June, 1887, in Groveland township, Tazewell County, Illinois in the home where his parents and his surviving brother now reside, and the place which was the continuous home of Charlie through his entire life. The days of his childhood, his youth and all his young manhood, were the days of happiness that come to all whose privilege it has been to be well born, in a happy and prosperous home, where love is enthrone and where kind and careful parents live for the welfare of their children. The incidents of his life, were those common to the life of the healthy country boy, youth and young man. Life's first lessons at mother's knee. The horizon widens and the little fellow starts off to the district school. School life complete and the more serious role of the daily responsibility on the farm begins. Thus it was with Charlie. A loving mother was his first teacher. Then came his school career, which was began, and finished at the "Brush Hill" school, District 82. Later, he widened his educational circle with a Veterinary Course, which brought him the diploma of a "Veterinary Surgeon." He was a dutiful son, and grew into an industrious young man. He was the life of his social center. He was baptized in his infancy according to the creed of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and respected its teachings throughout his life. In the fearful throes of the World War, he heard his Country's call. With the never to be forgotten five hundred on that never to be forgotten 28th day of June, 1918, he left the old home with all of its happy memories; and father and mother and brother, far dearer than life to him , with his face toward the conflict. His first stop was at Camp Wheeler , Macon. Georgia, where he was to begin his training for the fray. Because of mental qualifications as well as physical perfection, he was selected for the position of "Military Police." He was busy in preparing for his work at Camp Wheeler until the 21st of September, when he started toward the firing lines. He stopped at Camp Mills, New York for several days, awaiting the great English liner that was to carry him to the fray across the broad Atlantic. He finally embarked and set sail on the sixth day of October, 1918. Just what his thoughts were as he watched the land of his birth slowly preceding from his sight, he may probably tell us when we meet him in the sweet bye and bye, on the other side. Until then, let us safely believe that they were of home, and mother. On Tuesday, and his third day at sea, he began a diary to the loved ones at Home, which was completed when he was nearing the shores of the old world, then rolling in blood. This letter is a priceless treasure to his family, as it contains the last words to them from one whom they so dearly loved. But one short sentence written somewhere past mid-ocean, telling his mother that he had taken a cold, whispers the beginning of the end. The latter part of the letter that tells of seas running high, might also give evidence to the careful observer that his pulses were running above the normal, thou he carefully guarded his dear ones against such undesirable information. On October 18th the great ocean line left him, a sick man at Liverpool, England, sailing with the rest of its human cargo to a port nearer the great conflict. We now listen to a letter from the American Red Cross at Liverpool, England, that tells the sad finale:

Liverpool, February 6th, 1919 Mrs. C. L. Voight. Rural Route No. 1, Pekin, Illinois, U.S.A. My dear Mrs. Voight: Owing to circumstances over which we have no control, in consequence of the abnormal conditions due to the prevailing epidemic of influenza during the past few months, we exceedingly regret not having been able to write you earlier regarding the death of Private Charles H. Voight. He was admitted to the American Red Cross Hospital No. 4, Mossley Hill, Liverpool, on October 18th, 1918, suffering from influenza, and despite the constant care of doctors and nurses, he died on October 29th, 1918, of Broncho-pneumonia. Private Charles H. Voight was buried in the Everton Cemetery, Liverpool, on October 28th. There were present at the funeral, myself, as representing the Home communication service of the American Red Cross, and two ladies, representatives of the local care committee of the American Red Cross. A triumph wreath consisting of green Cyrus leaves, Cream Chrysanthemums, and Maiden-hair fern, together with Stars and Stripes flag, was placed on the grave by one of the ladies. The funeral service was conducted by Rev. Jos. F. Conway, United States Army Chaplain of Merkison, Wis., and was carried out with full military honors. The number of the grave is 141, section M, in the United States division of the cemetery. We feel that it must have been very hard for you to have your dear one die so far away from home under such conditions, and we wish to convey to you the sincerest sympathy of the American Red Cross in your sad loss. We earnestly trust that the God of all Comfort and Consolation will draw very near to you in this hour of sorrow, and prove a very present help in time of trouble. Again expressing our sympathy, I am Yours respectfully, David W. Roberts. Captain American Red Cross Home Communication Service.

In that hallowed grave across the sea, the angel of the resurrection is guarding his sacred dust. 
His spirit released, has the universe for its roving place, and is no doubt hovering near loved ones and home; and his soul has gone to God who gave it.
Peace be to his ashes.

Sleep On, O Brave and True

1 Sleep on, O brave and true, Serenely, calmly sleep, Columbia loves to honor you As by your grave we weep; The past we now recall, When war's dark clouds hung low; 'Twas then you offered all And bravely faced the foe.

2 Though seasons come and go, 'Mid smiles, and bitter tears, Our hearts may never, never know, The joys of other years. Ere you in gallant bands, Went forth to do and die; Your record bravely stands, On pages fair on high.

3 Sleep on, the storm is past, The previous conflict done, In heaven we will meet at last, The final conquest won, Life's weary march will end, The roll-call we shall hear, The shades of night descend, The perfect dawn is near.

Chorus

Sleep on, sleep on, Sleep on O brave and true, You in our hearts abide, A nation honors you, A nation honors you, Who for your Country died. Sleep on, Sleep on, Sleep on, And peacefully rest. (Laura E. Newell)

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William F. Huser

1896-1918

William F. Huser was born on the 9th of April, 1896, in Groveland, Tazewell County, Illinois. When he was but one day old, his mother kissed his wee lips "Good Bye," and went away to the spirit world. His father, being left alone with other members of the family that needed maternal care because of their tender years, found in his brother, George Huser, and family, ready and willing helpers in caring for the new born babe, who reared him through the first year or more of his earthly life, until to his father's great delight, the little fellow could again join the family group, and live among them as the youngest of the nine children that had been born to his parents. Thus William grew to the ninth year of his life of happy childhood, attending with other children, most regularly the day school of his district during the week, and with them and parents, his Sunday School, and Church services on the Lord's day. At this time, he suffered an irreparable loss in the death of his father, which took place on the 15th of October, 1904. William, now bereft of both father and mother, made the home of his foster mother his home until after the marriage of his sister, Esther L. Huser, which took place in the year of 1907, after which time he was mostly at home with her, she doing her best to be a mother to her baby brother, who had never had the great privilege to know her who had given him birth. After finishing his school career at the "Union School" of District 77, he worked steadily in his neighborhood on the farm up to the month of October, 1914, when he left the neighborhood in which he had been born, and in which he had lived constantly, to visit several of his brothers who were residents of the great Southwest. It was while there that he heard, and responded to his Country's call, enlisting as a volunteer in the service of the United States armies on the 14th day of April, 1917, at Springer, New Mexico. He served with his division of the army, at Albuquerque, New Mexico. Elephant Butts, Camp Roosevelt, and Camp Kearney, California. He rose by merit alone, from the rank of private to that of Commissary Sergeant in his short military career. On the 10th of April, 1918, he was wedded to Miss Lillian Blankenship, a young Groveland Township lady whose love he had won before he left his home in 1914, and who went from here to meet and wed her soldier lover at San Diego, California, on the date above mentioned. Some of the exigencies of army life told on the rugged constitution of the young soldier; and his health failed to such an extent that to his great regret, he was unable to accompany his division when that military body followed the flag of our country to the far off shores of Europe. The sands of life ran lower and lower, until it made his body an inviting field for that most dreaded Spanish influenza, that began its rampage of death with October last. His home was in San Diego, about eighteen miles from Camp Kearney in which he was an officer. He found it possible to get to his home for several hours about once a week. November 27th, the day preceding the Thanksgiving day of 1918, he got home, only to go to bed a sick man. During the night, an application of medical remedies that produced profuse perspiration reduced his temperature to such an extent that he insisted on returning to his camp the next morning, saying that it was the last Thanksgiving that he ever expected to spend in the army, and it was his desire to be there and do his utmost to make it a pleasant occasion for his command. He went, and carried out his program, Friday, November the 29th, after having nearly finished the work of a strenuous day in his office, he collapsed; and was carried by his attendants to the Camp Hospital. His wife being ill at the same time in their San Diego home, was not informed of his condition until the following Monday, December 2nd, when she arose from her sick bed, and hastily repaired to the camp. She found her husband in a grave condition, though ever conscious of her presence. She tendered to him throughout the day, that care that is born of affection. She offered to read to him such letters as had lately arrived from his dear in the far Home land; but he asked that she wait, and read them to home on th morrow, when he would be feeling better. With the regular hour came her exclusion from the hospital in accord with military regulation. The sick soldier watched her going with eyes that spoke volumes of longing to have some one of his own with him in his awful hour! She had already started, when he whispered herto his side again, asking that she leave the letters from dear ones at home, that he might have them under his pillow. This last wish was granted. She left, and he was alone with his God. Early the next morning, word flashed to the sad wife in San Diego, that some time during the night, her soldier husband had gone away to a much fairer country than ever Southern California, leaving naught behind but his pulseless body, and the letters from home, now pillowing his head that wast resting upon them in dreamless sleep. The sad word quickly ran over the wires to the home of his childhood, asking if his body was desired there? Who that is human could wonder for a moment what the answer would be under such circumstances? Under very carefully executed arrangements of the government, he came,according to the beautiful language of the poet, J.W. Barker:

"Silently, tenderly, mournfully, home, Not as they marched away, Volunteers come,-----

Not with the sword, and gun, Not with the stirring drum, Come our dead heroes home, Now all his work is done.

Thoughtfully, prayerfully, bear ye the dead, Pillow it softly---the Volunteer's head. Silently, tenderly, mournfully, home, Where should the brave Volunteer come, But to his native hills, Where the bright gushing rills, Freedom's sweet music fills, And her soft dew distills.

Peacefully, prayerfully, lay our brave friend Close to the home that he fought to defend."

Arriving home during the silent night of December 8th, he was tenderly laid away in his final resting place by the side of his parents, on the 9th day of December, 1918, with full military honors, the Rev. H. C. Stephan, officiating. The "taps" sounded, and their reverberating echoes, died away afar down the valleys, the large concourse of friends and neighbors reverently withdrew, leaving Sergeant William F. Huser in his last sleep just outside the Church windows where this obituary is publicly read. Peace be to his ashes.

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