Journals of a Time Traveller

Images here are visualisations by Google Gemini

Meet a great-grandmother from 250 generations ago. She carries the mtDNA haplogroup H6, or perhaps H6a, in trillions of her cells. She is a descendant of the 'Basal Helena' we met in the Levant 25,000 BCE. But this grandmother lives on the banks of the Volga, in what is now southern Russia, and the date is 4,500 BCE.

5,000–4,500 BCE), the Khvalynsk culture

Source ©  OpenStreetMaps Modified by myself.

She is no longer a nomad of the caves. Here she belongs to a world of copper, cattle, and sheep—the first great social hierarchies of the steppe. The ancient spark from the Levant has adapted to the cold winds of the north.

Our 250-times great-grandmother is not a wife of the Fertile Crescent Neolithic, nor have her people abandoned their Eastern Hunter-Gatherer roots. Instead, they have adapted to a way of life unique to the steppe. The herds they once hunted, they now master. They take from the Fertile Crescent what they need—sheep and cattle—but they do not toil the soil. They are women of the great Eurasian Steppe. They are becoming the great pastoralists; the herders of the endless grasslands

This ancestor belongs to an archaeological layer which Russian researchers have named the Khvalynsk culture. It is a period defined by a pivotal shift: the move away from hunting, fishing, and foraging towards the pastoral herding of cattle, sheep, and goats.

These herds introduced the concepts of private property and surplus value to their economy—a newfound wealth that seems to have stratified their society. While some of their graves were laden with status objects, such as polished stone maces and copper bracelets, rings and pendants, others remained starkly bare.

The Great Eurasian Steppe serves as the continent's primary thoroughfare. Across these vast grasslands, new cultures, languages, and peoples—alongside their livestock and technologies—surged east and west, linking Europe, the Caucasus, and Central and East Asia. The people of the Khvalynsk culture were a product of this flux, carrying the genetic heritage of several previously isolated populations. These included hunter-gatherer groups local to the East Europe and the Eurasian Steppe, from the Caucasus, and from as far away as Siberia. Our 250th great-grandmother’s matrilineal lineage once resided on the Iranian Plateau before embarking on an arduous trek far to the north. Her arrival on the Volga helped forge a new way of life, blending southern traditions with the rugged spirit of the northern plains.

Basal Helena and her daughter H, 25,000 BCE Levant, SW Asia.

The ovum is where life begins. Inside is a tiny, ancient spark: the mitochondrion. A mother wraps the new life in her own vitality, providing the energy that allows those first cells to divide. Almost every one of the trillions of cells in our bodies contains them. We inherit them solely from the egg. Because they carry their own DNA outside the nucleus, we can use them to trace a direct line back through our mothers. Imagine walking back a thousand generations to meet the woman who carried yours.

It is the onset of the Last Glacial Maximum, the harshest stage of the Ice Age. You are at Mount Carmel in the Levant. It isn't dry or dusty here; the climate is Mediterranean, much like modern southern France. Despite the global cold, rainfall is high and the vegetation is lush—a parkland of oak, wild pistachio, and terebinth. Herds crowd into this refuge: gazelle, fallow deer, wild boar, aurochs, and ibex. Humans seek sanctuary here too. We meet our 1000 x great-grandmother: Basal Helena and her daughter, who carries the mtDNA H lineage. They live in a band of thirty. These are Basal Eurasians—descendants of the 'Out of Africa' migration who lack any Neanderthal heritage.

These women do not farm. They are not masters of nature, but a part of it. They live on the resources of the ecosystem, foraging wild grass seeds—the ancestors of wheat and barley. They gather acorns, pistachios, almonds, lentils, and peas. They trek to the coast for limpets and mussels, and to the rivers for fish. They stock their stores with 'slow game' like tortoises and birds' eggs. As hunters, they track gazelle, deer, boar, and aurochs.

​The air is humid and water is abundant. The camp is a sanctuary, surrounded by a world in constant growth. For Helena, the climate is a partner in survival—providing the steady energy that allows her to become the mother of an entire lineage.

I carry the Levant with me. In every cell of my body, Helena’s mitochondrial signature remains active, an unbroken chain of life stretching back twenty thousand years. We are not just descendants of the Ice Age; we are the current vessels for its enduring fire.

A thread of silk on an English countryside hedge. Visualised  by Gemini AI to represent a thread of Asian DNA being found in Berkshire,

Why the obsession with a few genetic markers along the string of one chromosome? I possess an autistic cast of mind that highly values truth and rules; I am adept at identifying patterns and deciphering trends. I see the errors others might overlook.

My paternal lineage, however, seems to defy standard logic. It is an improbable survivor. In Europe, yDNA haplogroup L is an incredible rarity, accounting for less than 1% of the population—an exotic outlier. Within that small bracket, men carrying the variants M317 and SK1414 constitute a tiny minority. Within L-SK1414, my own lineage is a "ghost." It has had no known cousins for the past 7,000 years. It should not have survived in such isolation for so long. Globally, there are only two confirmed instances of L-FGC51036.

Somehow, it has endured rather than reaching a dead end. To find such a deep-time outlier—a branch of the human tree that refused to wither—is extraordinary. It traces a lonely arc from the high plateau of Khorasan to the banks of the Thames. It survived the rise of the first cities in Mesopotamia, the collapse of the West Asian Bronze Age, and the expansion of the Eastern Roman Empire—all while remaining a "Ghost Lineage.

The Zagros Mountains. Source Creative commons. By Farid Atar

We were the "late-stayers." While our genetic cousins drifted towards the Indus or the Balkans, we held the high ground of the Zagros Mountains for thousands of years longer. We were the last of the mountain ghosts to descend. By the time we stepped onto a Venetian galley, we carried a code that was already ancient and exceedingly rare. We did not arrive in England as part of a great migration; we arrived as a single, solitary thread of silk, seven millennia in the making.

I carry the STR marker DYS448=15. This roughly corresponds to the SNP L-SK1414. Most males have 19, 20, or 21 or more "stutters" at that position on the Y-chromosome; mine has been fixed at 15 for at least 7,000 years. Most European men belong to a vast, roaring river of yDNA; mine is a persistent stream that has avoided being swallowed by the earth.

When I first opened the book of my genetic code, I found 115 "pages"—private mutations—that no one else had ever read. They were the silent markers of a line that had walked in solitude for two thousand years. The only other person with a similar genetic "accent" was a man on the Makran coast of Pakistan. We are the two ends of a 7,000-year-old silk thread: one caught on a palm tree in the East, the other on a hawthorn branch in Berkshire.

My hypothesis is that this lineage found a long-term sanctuary in the Zagros Mountains or the South Caucasus. The cradle of my ghost lineage Around 7,000 years ago, several lineages radiated outwards like thin spokes to father the other L-SK1414 lines in Anatolia, the Levant, Arabia, and the Indus Valley. Each spoke was fragile; only 86 men worldwide have tested positive for SK1414 or DYS448=15. As these branches spread, I believe my own lineage was one of the last to leave the old refugia of the West Asian valleys. This explains why it has left so few recorded heirs. Its eventual arrival in Southern England—likely via late medieval galleys—suggests a slow, westward drift through the Levant before crossing the sea. A genetic stowaway on a Venetian galley, carrying a 7,000-year-old secret from the Silk Road to the English wool markets

John Henry Brooker on the Western Front. Based on his military service record, an existing photo and family traits. Visualised by Google Gemini.

The Genetic Ghost: An Ancient Odyssey

My paternal lineage carries a rare genetic ghost within its Y chromosome—Haplogroup L-FGC51036. This signature survived the winds of prehistory in the Zagros region of Southwest Asia before being swept westwards toward the Levant. By the close of the medieval period, it surfaced in the English counties of Hampshire and Berkshire.

How did it arrive? Perhaps it was carried to the port of Southampton by a Venetian galley. By 1746, the lineage officially entered the records of my surname line, represented by a copyhold tenant of a North Berkshire manor. This Asian lineage, rooted for centuries in English soil, eventually transitioned from the rural fields of Oxfordshire to the urban bustle of London, and finally to the mud of the Western Front.

From Soil to City: The Brooker Roots

The story of the "Man of Mystery," my great-grandfather John Henry Brooker, begins with a break from the past. During the 19th century, his father, Henry Brooker Sr., grew up on Oxfordshire farms as a poor labourer. Henry eventually turned his back on the rural poverty that had plagued his ancestors since they were made landless by the Enclosure Acts.

Seeking a new life, Henry arrived in the East End of London. He brought with him a countryman’s mastery of horsemanship, finding work as a carman—a carter driving horse and cart to move goods. Records show he briefly served as a coachman, swapping cargo for passengers, before ending his career as a storeman for a haulage business.

The Scholar and the Soldier

Henry’s skills were passed to his son, John Henry, but the boy was destined for more than the driver’s seat. Moving further east to Deptford and Lewisham, John Henry excelled in school. By 1901, his academic prowess earned him an appointment as a pupil-teacher, a role that usually led to a professional teaching career.

However, the Royal Field Artillery (RFA) barracks at Woolwich were near his neighborhood. Whether drawn by the draught-horse craft of his father or his own mathematical aptitude, John Henry traded the classroom for the gun carriage. In 1906, while serving as a Gunner in the 65th Battery RFA, he married Faith Eliza Baxter, a Norfolk maid working in London.

A Marriage in the Shadows

The marriage was short-lived and shadowed by tragedy. Faith had recently given birth to a daughter; John Henry, raised in the strictures of Edwardian working-class morality, likely married her to "do the right thing." It was a misguided judgment that would haunt him.

Family lore, told from Faith’s perspective, whispered of an assault in Ireland. However, DNA matching has provided a clearer, if more complex, picture. I share genetic segments with numerous descendants of Henry Brooker, confirming John Henry was indeed the biological father of my grandfather, born in 1908. While Faith—whose parents were born in the Gressenhall Union workhouse—lived by a different, perhaps survivalist moral standard, John Henry remained a man of quiet virtue, deeply concerned with his reputation. The two were fundamentally incompatible.

The "Twelve-Year Man": War and Survival

To trace John Henry’s military life is to follow the trajectory of the British Army itself, moving from the polished professional ranks of the "Old Contemptibles" to the industrial carnage of the Great War.

The Professional Prelude (1911–1914)

By 1911, John was a seasoned specialist stationed in Ireland. At the Kildare Curragh, he mastered the 18-pounder quick-firing gun. By the outbreak of war, he was a Corporal—a man of muscle and mathematics capable of directing lethal fire with precision.

The Baptism of Fire (1914–1917)

• Mons & Le Cateau: Landing at Le Havre on August 16, 1914, John was thrust into the retreat from Mons. At Le Cateau, his battery stood their ground against overwhelming odds to cover the infantry.

• The Great Attrition: He endured the first gas attacks at the Second Battle of Ypres (1915) and the horror of The Somme (1916). Here, his mathematical mind was vital for the "creeping barrage," a wall of fire that required absolute synchronization.

• The Italian Front: In late 1917, he was dispatched to the River Piave to bolster Italian forces after the disaster at Caporetto.

The Final Act (1918–Post-War)

John returned to France to stall the 1918 German Spring Offensive. By then, his administrative aptitude had likely moved him into "Battery Office" roles. This logistical experience became his bridge to civilian life, securing him a post-war position as an Admiralty Clerk.

A Legacy Reclaimed

A portrait, as visualised by Google Gemini, based on the only surviving photo taken of John Henry Brooker in 1933.

The war left its marks—the likely hearing loss of a career gunner and the psychological weight of four years of bombardment. Following the period working for the Admiralty as a clerk at Whitehall SW, John Henry eventually settled in Sidcup, Kent, working as a clerk for Post Office Transport. In 1945, on reaching retirement, he was a higher clerical officer, responsible for transportation, as the Post Office were building up their national telephone network.

Though long estranged from my branch of the family, he built a stable life with Mabel Tanner. In his final years during the 1950s, he traveled back to Norfolk to visit his son, Reginald, and his grandchildren. He is no longer the "Man of Mystery" or the young gunner in a broken marriage, but a survivor of the most technologically demanding era in human history—the living vessel for a "genetic ghost" that had traveled from the Zagros Mountains to the quiet suburbs of Kent.

The convergence of genetic evidence and documentary research has brought a new level of precision to my recorded genealogy, allowing me to trace the odyssey of my paternal lineage: yDNA haplogroup L-SK1414 > FGC51040 > FGC51036.

In the mid-18th century, my Brooker ancestors emerge from the shadows of surviving parish records. On November 1, 1746, my 6 x great-grandparents, John Brooker and Mary Gardiner, were married at St John’s College, Oxford. They were not scholars; rather, John was a copyhold tenant of the College. At the time, the vicar of St Mary’s in Long Wittenham was non-resident, living in Oxford. It was more practical and cost-effective for the couple to travel to Oxford for the ceremony than to pay the fees required to entice the vicar back to their home parish.

The marriage register identifies both John and Mary as residents of Long Wittenham, Berkshire. In 1746, the parish was primarily held by two landowners, including St John’s College. As tenants on this manor, John and Mary would have practiced communal farming within an open-field system—a landscape defined by individual strips allocated to various tenants, a practice that persisted long after the medieval period.

While Mary was born and raised in the nearby parish of East Hagbourne, identifying John’s origins has proven more elusive. I once hypothesized that he belonged to the Brooker family of East Hagbourne; however, rigorous genealogical research—utilizing a process of elimination to rule out other John Brookers of similar age and nomenclature in neighboring Berkshire parishes—disproved that theory. Consequently, the specific birthplace of my 6 x great-grandfather remains a mystery, as he first appears in the historical record in 1746.

My 6 x great grandfather John Brooker? As visualised by Google Gemini AI.

While there is no definitive documentary record of John Brooker’s origins, the evidence suggests a clear migratory pattern. Based on yDNA STR markers that indicate a shared paternal lineage with the Chandler family of Basingstoke, I hypothesize that my Brooker ancestors migrated northwards across the North Wessex Downs of Hampshire and Berkshire between the 16th and 18th centuries. As explored in Act 9, I suspect that the wool trade and sheep farming may have provided a catalyst for this movement. I have mapped this target area below to illustrate the potential path of this migration.

Source ©  OpenStreetMaps Modified by myself.

There are several parishes within that target zone, where I see both Brooker and Chandler entries in the same registers, even on the same page. STR comparisons of our yDNA suggests a convergence between 1540 and 1600 CE.

The story of John does not end in 1746. John and Mary had at least six children baptized at St Mary’s between 1749 and 1763, including my 5 x great-grandfather, Edward Brooker, in 1757. Edward witnessed the parliamentary enclosure of Long Wittenham's open fields in 1809. It was his son, John Brooker Jr., who—like many others dispossessed of land tenure—fell into the poverty of the agricultural laboring class. He eventually drifted landless across the river and eastward through Oxfordshire in search of work.

Our yDNA lineage—descended from Ice Age ibex hunters in the Zagros Mountains, Early Neolithic goat herders, and Chalcolithic priests—has traversed millennia. It has survived the rise of the Ur III civilization, the era of Hurrian merchants in the Mitanni Empire, and the bustle of Phoenician temples. From Levantine mariners on 15th-century Italian galleys to Tudor wool merchants in Basingstoke, our ancestors have occupied every stratum of history. Now, they toiled in the soils of Oxfordshire for others.

My working hypothesis is that the yDNA lineage L-SK1414 > FGC51040 > FGC51036 first reached Hampshire soil via a Levantine mariner serving aboard a Venetian galley. While he could have absconded upon reaching Southampton, I suspect a different path: a brief encounter with a local Hampshire woman before he returned to the sea.

This 'dalliance' provides a more plausible explanation for how this specific DNA entered the regional gene pool during the transition from the late medieval period to the Tudor era. Naturally, much of this paternal odyssey remains rooted in conjecture. To bridge the gaps in the historical record, I have used Gemini AI to imagine the meeting between this distant ancestor and my 15th century great-grandmother in the bustling port of Southampton.

The Southampton priest appears disgruntled at the prospect of baptizing a child born out of wedlock, doesn’t he? Yet, I’ve directed Gemini AI to capture the mother’s joy—portraying her as an innocent soul, undeterred by the cleric's disapproval.

Perhaps I have let my imagination run a step ahead of the records, but the narrative is tempting. Forty years after that first arrival, I imagine the mariner’s son defying the period’s inherent prejudices to rise to the rank of a wool merchant. The lifeblood of Southampton was the highly valued wool of the surrounding counties, which acted as a magnet for foreign fleets. In this scene, I have asked Gemini AI to portray my ancestor as an entrepreneur, visiting the wool hall in Basingstoke.

There is a firm rationale for this setting. If my paternal lineage arrived in the late medieval or early Tudor era at Southampton, the line clearly drifted northward toward the Berkshire and Hampshire Downs. Basingstoke is the earliest known residence of the Chandler family, with whom I share a specific yDNA signature.

A comparison of my STR (Short Tandem Repeat) markers against the Basingstoke Chandlers suggests the following TMRCA (Time to Most Recent Common Ancestor):

Historical Correlation:

Assuming a standard genealogical generation of 30 years, this 14–16 generation gap places our common ancestor between 1540 and 1600 CE.

I recognize the hurdles of such a rapid ascent in 1540. The era was fraught with xenophobia and a profound suspicion of those with Mediterranean features or Catholic leanings. While the dating range is flexible—the DNA may have arrived earlier, taking several generations to migrate toward the Downs—I am using a degree of 'informed conjecture' to frame my AI-generated imagery. I believe the science of STR matching is most powerful when paired with a narrative. This is not just a data point; it is a 'could have been' for how my lineage took root in English soil.

Act 9 of the Odyssey: My yDNA has traversed the millennia—moving from an Ice Age ibex-hunter in the Zagros Mountains to a Proto-Neolithic goat herder, then onward through a priest-diviner on the Khorasan Highway. It has lived as a Bronze Age smith visiting the Great Sumerian civilizations, a Hurrian merchant reaching the Levant, and a temple accountant in Roman Phoenicia, before finally arriving as a mariner in Tudor England.

The Zarzian Return: 18,000 BCE I visualize the Zarzian hunter-gatherers of the Zagros and ask: is this my great-grandfather?

The unbearably harsh conditions of the Last Glacial Maximum (LGM) once drove the Baradostian Ice Age hunters out of these mountains and into lower-altitude refuges. However, after 20,000 years ago, the climate began to stabilize, permitting a slow return to the Zagros valleys. Unlike many other groups of the era, my paternal ancestors do not appear to have traveled far; they remained rooted in the Zagros or South Caucasus region for an immense span of time. I would conjecture that they return to the same valleys:

13,000 years ago. Zagros Mountains and valleys (now in Iran) South West Asia

The Zagros and South Caucasus mountains (now in Iran), South West Asia. © OpenStreetMap contributors".