The Morfey brothers, Russell'44 and Donald'46, had Medical Cadet Training through the Seventh Day Adventist Church so as to be prepared to serve their country and fellow man. Don Morfey was awarded the Purple Heart and also received the Bronze Star.
There were seven Sorensen cousins in the military, three enlisted together; Laverne "Bud''`36 , Edward '37, Richard '37. Laverne had just graduated from ISC (`41) and in 1943 he was killed while training with the Air Force near Salina, KS. They were the sons of Sorensen brothers: Pete, Harry & Fred.
On at least two occasions Milford Twp military personal found another Milfordite unexpectedly during their tour of duty: 1) Kenneth Watson'47 & Don Morfey'46 met up in a North Korean Medical Station. 2) Dave Allen '55 & Alan Twedt '57 crossed paths on the Coral Sea. See pg 97.
All three of Amil Twedt's `33 sons joined the Navy: Alan `57, Owen `66 and Dean `67.
Both Vernon `50 and Franklin `51 Egland reported that they used the GI Bill in their effort to earn their degrees at ISU. Vernon for Industrial Engineering and Frank for Civil Engineering.
Jim Cooper '63 acquired seven degrees using the GI Bill including a Veterinary Medicine degree.
The following is a family history story told about a first cousin of mine about four generations back
During the War Between the States, three cousins of mine, who grew up in Milford Township, were in the service with the Union Army. Family history has it that they were all in the artillery and they were all "deaf as a fencepost" when they got to be older men. Cannon fire, when one is on the firing team, can be very injurious to the ears. It is bad enough when your own cannon fires, but when the pieces down the line fire; the sound slaps you in the ear like a "wet mackerel". The first round or so is bad enough but the following reports just seem to have more and more of a painful sensation and the ears ringing until soon "it's not so bad"; but this "not so bad" is one's hearing being damaged.
Anyhow, so the story goes, their battery was in south western Mississippi where they were participating in the siege of Vicksburg which had deteriorated into a near stalemate and the troops had settled into a situation of entrenchment. My cousin, whom I'll simply refer to as "Cousin Hughes" as I've forgotten which of the three fellows it actually was, was dug in with his artillery unit some distance from town. They apparently had a quite civilized encampment near a stream which was some 30 or more yards wide and a little over "belly deep to a horse". To cross this stream on one's horse at the "ford" it was necessary, to keep one's boots dry, to put your boots either up along side the horse's neck or conversely, put your toes back up on the horse's rump.
One evening one of the junior officers in Cousin Hughes' Battery, who was a real pain in the neck and whom nobody, at least the enlisted men, could tolerate because of his Napoleonic attitude, decided he was going to a nearby town to visit the ladies and get a cigar. Well, this particular night Cousin Hughes had picket duty. Part of the duty was to challenge any approaching person with a command- "Halt, Dismount, Come forward and be recognized". So, in the wee hours of the morning, Cousin hears this solitary horseman approaching and singing with a slightly inebriated manner with a voice loud enough to be heard quite some distance away. But he's still on the opposite side of the stream. Cousin recognizes the voice of the "dear" officer and a plan for a bit of sweet revenge instantaneously forms in his sleepy mind. He hears the horse enter the stream and the singing stops and now "dear" officer is talking to his horse about the stream crossing. Cousin waits until the horse is in the deepest part of the stream and then, in his most commanding voice, barks out, "Halt, Dismount, Come forward and be recognized!"
"What the ..??? -- Hughes, you (blankity blank)-- you know who it is--This is Captain...."
Again the command, "Halt, Dismount, Come Forward and be Recognized or I'll blow you out of the saddle!" . This is getting serious. The officer, who knows that Cousin is within the guidelines of the duty of the picket, dismounts in mid stream, and with much swearing, stuttering and stammering, and oath issuing, particularly when the water comes up over the top of each boot and adamantly complaining all the while, takes the bridle reins and wades and leads the horse ashore from the near hip deep water, which of course, is over the tops of his fine, neatly shined, highly prized near-knee-height boots.
"By golly, that is you, ain't it Cap'm"
Family history does not reveal how much and what kind of manure Cousin Hughes had to endure for the rest of the War for this incident but, never the less, it makes a good story and he did survive the War.
The World War II service record which was hung on the wall of the Pleasant Grove Church included the following names of men from the community, not necessarily from Milford Twp, who served during that War; Gene Watson, Walter Jacobson, Russel Buttrey, Kenneth Hughes, Dixon Harper, Leonard Jones, Dale Sampson, Fred Matters, Donald Halverson, Earl Lee, James Matters, Harlan Harper, Carroll C. Doolittle, Carroll Arnenson, Joe Alfred, Robert Alfred, Wayne Buttrey, Merril Johnson, Howard Johnson, Ed Hagerland, Charles Samson, Floyd Clark, Robert Comfort, Donald Wakefield, Stanley Gineskee, Eugene Arnenson, Edward Eller, and Gordon Bivens. See page 55 and 323. Apparently Kenny Hughes is the only mentioned person buried at Pleasant Grove.