The enrolment card

It is a printed card with blank rules, filled in by hand. It is not a birth record and does not pretend to be one: it is the paperwork of a man of the class of 1882 registering for Argentine military service at the consulate in Cape Town. That is precisely what makes it useful. Everything on it was stated by someone who knew — almost certainly by Pablo Armando himself.

Four things on this one card were already known from elsewhere, from documents that have nothing to do with the Argentine army:

1. The class of 1882. His own passport gives 22 February 1882.
2. Nacido en Rosario de Santa Fé. The passport names that town and that province — and the province is the thing that separated the real man from every near miss this archive has logged.
3. Oficina enroladora de Capetown. He died at Newlands, Cape Town, in 1950. An Argentine conscript enrolling at the Cape is not a coincidence; it is a man registering with his consulate because he already lived there.
4. The passport's own annotation — Guardia Nacional, 6º de Caballería, 1915 — is the service this card is the enrolment for.

Any one of them alone would be suggestive. Together, on one card, in a drawer filed under Lera, they are conclusive.

Pablo Armando's eldest son — named with his exact birth date in the 1950 liquidation account — is Ricardo Juan Carlos Lerena, born 6 January 1920 at Cape Town. A grandson of the same names died in infancy in the Transvaal.

An Argentine army card and a South African deceased estate, neither with any possible knowledge of the other, name the same man. The grandfather's name came out of Argentina with him and was given to his first son at the Cape.

The index dropped Pablo, moved him 1,400 km to Salta, turned Lerena into Lorena, and invented a second surname — “Serena” — out of the word SERIE printed on the line below the parents.

This archive had already found the entry and had already written it off. The note from the previous round called it “probably not him” and listed four objections: Salta, the missing Pablo, the surname Lorena, and the machine indexing. Three of the four were artefacts of the transcription.

María Lerena is written with her husband's surname. On these cards the formula hijo de X y de Y usually gives each parent's own name — which would make her a Lerena by birth, and the marriage one between kin. But some clerks entered the mother under her married name. The card cannot decide it, and neither can this archive. Her maiden name is the next thing to find.

And a genuine puzzle now sharpens. The Rosario baptism index has been read letter by letter, under any surname, for 1881, 1882 and 1883 — seventy-eight letter-bands — and it contains no Lerena at all. A boy born in Rosario in February 1882 to a father named Lerena is not in the cathedral's index. Either he was baptised somewhere the index does not reach, or under a spelling the sweep did not catch, or not baptised as an infant. That is now a specific question rather than a blank. What has been searched →

The drawer is filed by sound, not by spelling. Lera, Lerena, Lorena, Serena, Sera, Era, Leza, Perena, Perella and Hereijo are all interfiled — not by FamilySearch, but by the army clerk in 1908. That is why the machine index produced “Lorena” and “Serena” so readily: the mangled forms were already sitting in the drawer as neighbours. One family — Gilberto Lerena’s — appears under five different spellings on five cards.

Entre Ríos, Mendoza, Buenos Aires, Montevideo. Not one of them is from Rosario de Santa Fe, and not one father is Juan Carlos. Across thirty-nine images, Pablo Armando is the only Lerena in the drawer born at Rosario, and no other son of Juan Carlos Lerena appears.

What that does not mean: that he had no brothers. Enrolment abroad was done at a consulate by a man who presented himself. A brother who stayed in Argentina would be filed in his own military district, not in this drawer; a brother who never enrolled is nowhere at all. But the drawer covers the classes of roughly 1870–1907, so a brother born within a decade of him would have been of the right age — and the first search that could have produced a sibling produced none.

The drawer has been read and is written up above. What it opens is elsewhere: a marriage record for Juan Carlos Lerena, which would give María her maiden name in a single line; the consular matrícula at Cape Town, where a man who enrolled in 1908 had a file, and which has already been requested from the Argentine foreign ministry; and the missing baptism at Rosario.

The line, now one generation deeper →  ·  The name register →