The American bombardment of British-occupied Boston began on March 2, 1776. George Washington hoped for a bloodbath to follow.

George Washington and Thomas Jefferson rose above their political divisions, focusing on their shared ideals in opening design for the President’s House to public competition.

George Washington was a gambler at heart. Should he reject the cautious counsel of his officers, and launch an all-out frontal attack against the British entrenchments outside Boston?

Did America’s Founders want the President of the United States to live in a palace—or a people’s house? George Washington had tough choices to make as early as 1792.

250 Years Ago, George Washington, beset by worries about what Americans thought of him, assembled his officers to consider a massive attack on Boston.

George Washington was not just Commander in Chief of the Continental Army, but a combat veteran, a soldier. He used his insights from experience to consider remaking the army, and reshaping his soldiers.

On February 2, 1776, several concerns buffeted General George Washington. Among them were his sincere doubts about American soldiers’ ability to carry on the war.

Benedict Arnold faced a potentially catastrophic dilemma outside Quebec. George Washington leapt into action. The Revolution’s fate seemed to hang in the balance.

One hundred years ago, a thirty-year-old, red-headed farmer reached a turning point in his life. For the past few months he had agonized over a brutal choice: fight alongside the millions of doughboys shipping overseas to Europe and the Western Front; or refuse, and accept possible punishment at the hands of his countrymen. By March 1918 Alvin C. York could wait no longer. He made his choice somewhere in the misty, remote hills of his native East Tennessee—unknowingly deciding the fates of hundreds of his fellow men.

The 32^nd “Red Arrow” Division began its journey to the Western Front in January and February 1918. In combat, it would be a game-changer. Formed from the Michigan and Wisconsin National Guard, the division would play a leading role in cracking one of the most vital strongpoints in Germany’s Hindenberg Line, and pave the way to victory.

Not too long ago, that’s a question nobody would have thought to ask. Older paintings show Washington standing over women in poses of regal authority. He looks on them from a distance—maybe daring to touch hands in a formal dance—but always with respect. In the twentieth century, though, some revisionist historians argued that Washington had a “problem” with women. That he was a cheater. A brute.

An episode from my book Never in Finer Company: The Men of the Lost Battalion and the Transformation of America