assigned to the 10th Armored Division, 420th Armored Field Artillery Battalion, under the command of General Patton. He was placed in the lead tank of a group of tanks that preceded the infantry in front of the Artillery Battalion. Being a forward observer for the field artillery, his job was to tell the gunners how to aim the howitzers so that the shot would go over the heads of allied infantry and tanks and hit the enemy. The Germans began their attack on December 16. However, the allies had moved all available troops. The weather was so foggy that additional airpower could not be used, so the Germans felt they had completely cut off the allies. The attack appeared to be so successful for the Germans that they sent a message on December 22 instructing the allies to surrender. This message was sent to General McAuliffe's headquarters, which in return sent a simple one-word reply: 'nuts!' When this reply was issued, James was one of the first to see this famous message. This reply is considered by some to be as famous as 'Don't Give up the Ship!' or 'I Have Not Yet Begun To Fight.' James spent Christmas of 1944 under siege. The weather was cold, snowy and foggy. His sleeping quarters were in a crowded tank with five other GIs. Their body heat and breath frosted up the interior so much it looked and felt like the inside of a refrigerator. The battle continued until the middle of January with the allies holding their own. However, the Germans were running out of manpower to hold them. The Battle of the Bulge ended on January 16, 1945, but not until 76,890 Americans had been killed, wounded, or declared as missing in action. On April 2nd James was with a group of infantrymen who became detached from the main group. Being the officer in charge, it was his duty to get his men back to safety. The following excerpt is from the documentation for the Silver Star he received for his actions: "Second Lieutenant James R. Stewart, Field Artillery, Battery C, Armored Field Artillery Battalion, United States Army: for gallantry in action at Weiler, Germany on 2 April 1945. When the infantry platoon with which Lt. Stewart was operating became separated from the remainder of an infantry company, he led the men in an infiltration movement through hostile lines to successfully contact friendly troops, capturing three of the enemy en route. His gallant achievement reflects great credit upon himself and the military forces of the United States. After serving as Mayor of Ried, Austria, with the Occupation Army he received orders to return to the United States so he could be re-routed to the war in the Pacific. However, by the time he returned to America the atomic bomb had been employed, and the war was over. James entered the military service from Ogden, Utah. James also received the Purple Heart for being wounded in action in Germany on 18 April 1945. James was discharged and returned to Ogden to find the house he had grown up in sold and all his possessions gone. He stayed with his oldest brother until he married Helen Adams in August 1946. Submitted by Jane S. Mortenson, daughter Junior Frank Stewart Junior served in the Army with the rank of technical sergeant from April 2, 1945, to December 26, 1946. He received the Asiatic Pacific Campaign Medal, Army of Occupation Medal, and World War II Victory Medal. While on leave from boot camp, August 1945, President Truman ordered the atomic bomb, and Japan surrendered ending WWII. He was then sent to South Korea for fourteen months. Lawrence W. Stimpson At the age of 22, Lawrence Stimpson was preparing to work at a cereal mill and a livestock feed business with his father when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. A radical change in his plans found him a basic trainee at Camp Walters, Texas. He joined the parachute troops and went to parachute school at Fort Benning, Georgia-He was at one time attached to the famous 82nd Airborne Division and spent 20 months overseas, making 3 total of 18 jumps. 126 In addition to jumping in Sicily and at Salerno, Sgt Stimpson took part in the D-Day landing at Anzio, going in with the doughboys on a landing craft. 'We received several briefings and made preparations to jump at Anzio. We even visited units training for the amphibious landing to make certain they knew what paratroopers looked like. We didn't want to be mistaken for the enemy. I thought we were going to jump right up until they took us to the harbor at Naples and loaded us on boats instead of airplanes. When the first wave hit the beach, I expected the sky to light up with tracers and artillery, but there was nothing, only continued silence and darkness.' The Germans had been completely caught off guard. Stimpson's battalion was scheduled to go in behind some of the men of the 3rd Infantry Division. 'I knew it would be some time before our turn came. We weren't scheduled until the 22nd wave, and I wondered how long it would take the Germans to figure out what was happening and react. We didn't go in until after daylight. By then, German planes were dive-bombing our ships and strafing the beach. We were in LCIs (landing craft, infantry); and as we approached the beach, a bomb hit the second LCI from us, about in the center. The concussion rocked us so violently it caused one of our men to break his arm. There was no hope for the men in the other boat. We didn't have much time to think about what happened. The ramp came down almost immediately, and we stepped into water so cold it actually took your breath away. It was deeper than I expected. The uniforms we were wearing, similar to those issued to tank crews, were made of heavy material and buttoned around the ankles. They had suspenders, much like a pair of farmer's overalls. As we waded out of the water, the German planes continued strafing. I tried to run but felt as though a great weight was pinning me to the beach. Then I realized my tanker suit was full of water. It was so heavy I could barely move, let alone run. For an instant, I imagined myself in the center of a Messerschmitt gun sight. It's a naked feeling knowing you are a target and not being able to do anything about it. The situation reminded me of a bad dream where someone or something is chasing you and you want to run, but you can't. Fortunately, the attack didn't last long and we were able to get off the beach and move inland without further incident.' The second night, 'We were supposed to secure one of the bridges over the Mussolini Canal. When We arrived at the bridge, we found it had already been blown. The word came down to dig in, and I began preparing a foxhole on a small rise near a narrow paved road. It was a dark night with no moon. I hadn't been Working very long when a German machine gun started firing from the other side of the road. Luckily it wasn't firing in my direction. The darkness probably saved my life. I crawled into the depression along the side of the road, took out a hand grenade and pulled the pin. I made my best guess about where to throw and released the grenade. Then I remembered my grenades had all gotten wet when we came ashore. As I let go of the firing mechanism, a bright streak of light lit up the darkness and went arcing toward the German position. I hugged the ground and prayed for an explosion. I knew if that grenade didn't go off, I was in a very bad spot. Thankfully, there was a loud explosion followed by silence. We heard nothing more from the German machine guns that night.' In an effort to capture the next bridge, 60 men moved up with a platoon leader. Sgt. Stimpson was the radio operator. "Two point men were out in front of us. As we approached the bridge, we began receiving sporadic rifle fire. The platoon leader and I were moving up a small defile, stopping often to listen and look around. During one of these short halts, I realized my left flank was exposed. I stepped back. The lieutenant moved into the spot where I had been standing and a split second later fell to the ground. He had been hit in the chest by a sniper's bullet. It was a fatal wound. He was the first person I watched die. The Germans then began firing their machine guns, and I realized we had somehow gotten in front of our scouts. That left me as the lead man in the platoon. I climbed over a little hill for more cover and began throwing hand grenades. I threw all I had, but couldn't tell whether or not they were having any effect. A potato masher (German hand grenade) landed about ten feet from me but didn't do any damage. I was glad it wasn't one of ours. I heard someone yelling for them to pull back. Another lieutenant who was with our platoon had taken over as platoon leader. He wanted me to move back to his position. I started to crawl back over the little hill where our first platoon leader had been shot. Where he lay, were 11 more bodies, all apparently victims of the same sniper. I crawled to my left and found a safer route back. 'When I reached the lieutenant, he wanted me to go for artillery support. He had already sent two other men, but they didn't make it. Our radio was out, and the artillery observer was 300-400 yards to the rear. The German machine guns weren't letting up. I thought of crawling but decided it would take too long. That's one day I used my training in running and hitting the dirt. Every time I got up to run, a machine gun started firing. I swore they were moving down that canal as fast as I was. The dirt would kick up around me, and then I would hear the chatter of the gun. As I passed the men 127