World War Honor Roll

Cambridge, MA

David Joseph Brodette served in Company F of the 168th Infantry Regiment, part of the famed 42nd "Rainbow" Division of the American Expeditionary Forces sent to fight in France during World War I. He was killed in action on October 29, 1918 — barely two weeks before the Armistice silenced the guns on November 11 — at just 23 years old. Cambridge answered his loss the way countless American towns did after the Great War: by giving a piece of the community itself, a memorial circle, his name, so that a neighbor who never came home would remain part of the landscape he left behind.

Dudley, MA

When the United States entered the Great War in 1917, small New England mill towns like Dudley sent their young men across the Atlantic to fight in the trenches of France. This square honors seven of Dudley's sons who never came home during 1917–1918, and the roll of names — Allen and Cross beside Biniewicz, Osowski, Gadoury, and Riendeau — quietly maps the French-Canadian and Polish immigrant families who had come to work the region's textile mills and who paid the war's price alongside their neighbors. Memorials like this one sprang up on town greens across America in the war's immediate aftermath, transforming private grief into shared civic memory.

Exeter, NH

In the years after 1918, towns across America raised monuments to the local men and women who had served in what that generation simply called "the World War" — the global conflict we now know as World War I. Exeter, a New Hampshire town whose roots reach back to the colonial era, joined that wave of civic remembrance, honoring not only its sons but explicitly its daughters, a nod to the nurses and volunteers who served alongside soldiers. The memorial's language moves deliberately from grief for the dead, to gratitude for the survivors, to a charge laid upon future generations.

Exeter, NH

In the years just after the Civil War, Exeter, New Hampshire had settled into life as a mill and market town on the Squamscott River, its side streets filling with the modest homes of tradespeople and working families. This house, raised around 1867 and still marked with the name of Thomas and Ellen Shinnick, is one of those domestic survivors — a plaque-dated reminder of the everyday households that gave a New England town its texture. Homes like it were seldom grand, but they anchored the daily rhythm of their neighborhoods for generations.