Valor Friday

William D Owens as a corporal
With the recent passing of the 81st anniversary of the D-Day Invasion of Normandy, word came out about an award upgrade for one of the valiant men who dropped behind enemy lines on that fateful morning. William D Owens, who left the service as a staff sergeant, is seeing a Bronze Star Medal be upgraded to the Distinguished Service Cross for action on 6 June 1944 and the following day. He was later cited for more gallantry in action.
From Military Times;
Army Staff Sgt. William D. Owens knew his platoon was in trouble.
Part of A Company, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, his platoon had jumped into Normandy on June 6, 1944, and captured La Fiere Bridge, just west of Utah Beach. A day later, after vicious counterattacks by German troops and tanks, Owens had only a few men left to hold the vital crossing across the Merderet River.
Bloodied and outnumbered, they fought on. Owens rallied his men, strengthened their defenses and collected ammunition from the dead and wounded, then single-handedly fired two machine guns and a Browning automatic rifle as hundreds of Germans tried to storm their position.
Four Americans earned the Distinguished Service Cross — second only to the Medal of Honor — for their actions at La Fiere that day, though Owens was not one of them. The men of A Company thought that was unfair. So did retired Army Col. Keith Nightingale, a Vietnam veteran who later led the 505th PIR. When he learned of the oversight, he had to do something about it.
“This is a guy who essentially saved the defensive position of the 505,” Nightingale said. “In doing so, he preserved the strategic objective of the bridge. It struck me emotionally.”
He added, “Gen. Gavin [later commander of the 82nd Airborne] said he deserved the Medal of Honor.”
During a ceremony Thursday at La Fiere Memorial Park in France, Harrison Morales accepted the Distinguished Service Cross on behalf of his great-grandfather, Owens, who died in 1967. The long-overdue award is an upgrade of his Bronze Star. Owens also received the Purple Heart with Oak Leaf Cluster and the Silver Star for Operation Market Garden.
The firefight at La Fiere was one of the fiercest and most important of the Normandy campaign. Elements of the 82nd Airborne held the bridge — actually a causeway between fields flooded by the Germans to prevent parachute drops — against several bloody counterattacks. Failure here would have seriously jeopardized the D-Day landings by preventing the U.S. Army’s 4th Infantry Division and 70th Tank Battalion from moving inland from Utah Beach.
Military journalist S.L.A. Marshall, author of “Night Drop: The American Airborne Invasion of Normandy,” claimed La Fiere Bridge was “probably the bloodiest small unit struggle in the experience of American arms.”
With the aid of 44 men in his platoon, Owens captured the bridge in the wee hours of June 6. Over the next 48 hours, they held their ground against three German tanks, which were destroyed by a pair of two-man bazooka teams. Owens scared off a fourth tank by braving enemy fire so he could get close enough to toss Gammon grenades.
“Owens is one of the premier heroes,” said James Donovan, author of the newly published “Nothing But Courage: The 82nd Airborne’s Daring D-Day Mission — and Their Heroic Charge Across the La Fiere Bridge.”
“Not only did he prevent a sneak German attack by crawling along to throw two grenades, but he directs the defense for the next two days,” Donovan said. “He was the key.”
During the battle, the staff sergeant saw his force dwindle from 45 to just 12 effectives. Owens, who became company commander when his lieutenant was mortally wounded, took charge and repositioned his soldiers to stop three German assaults. He crawled between foxholes to gather ammunition from casualties and even propped up dead soldiers to make them appear alive. For one attack, Owens by himself fired two machine guns whose crews had been killed or wounded. When the barrel of one overheated, he blasted away with a Browning automatic rifle until he ran out of ammunition.
Years later, when Marshall interviewed 505th PIR soldiers about what happened, he was told by nearly everyone, “The defense was saved by Owens. It was his courage and calmness which made us stick [it] out. He carried the load.”
“Owens is providing critical leadership at a crucial time and he is directly involved in combat under circumstances that are very, very impressive,” said military historian Martin K.A. Morgan, author of “Down to Earth: The 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment in Normandy.”
“His citation for the Distinguished Service Cross shows him cradling and firing a machine gun. That’s super soldier stuff right there.”
Lt. Gen. James Gavin, commanding officer of the 505th PIR, witnessed Owens in action and nominated him for the Medal of Honor, which was declined. Battalion commander Lt. John J. Dolan backed him for a Distinguished Service Cross but the paperwork was lost.
Nightingale discovered this oversight about five years ago. He worked passionately to rectify the omission and make sure Owens’ family would receive the medal, which was upgraded from a Bronze Star.
“This guy goes from being a squad leader to company commander in the course of a couple of hours,” Nightingale said. “He was lost in history, and I thought that was not a good idea. We had a lost valor.”
The 505th Regimental Combat Team website has this to say about Owens’ action;
The following account is from Staff Sergeant William D. Owens of A company, it took place on D-Day June 6th, and 7th D+1 1944 at the La Fiere causeway, it is written as it appeared in General Gavin’s book “On To Berlin”
I had the first squad. We placed our antitank mines right on top of the road where the Germans could see them, but could not miss them with their tanks. We placed our two bazooka teams where they had a good field of fire. There were two men to a team. As I recall, it was about 8 AM when we first heard armored vehicles coming from across the river. We let them come on. It was an armored column with trucks of infantry. When the lead tank got approximately 40 feet from the mines, the tank stopped. Then our bazooka teams let loose and both got direct hits, disabling the first tank(they were old French Renault tanks with comparatively thin armor). This blocked the road, and as there were deep ditches and water, the other tanks could only retreat. Then they tried to get the infantry through to knock us out. All we had was small arms and some 60 mm. mortars, but we succeeded in driving them back. The Germans pulled back on the other side, and in about a half-hour or so, they began throwing 88s and 120 mm. mortars at us. They really clobbered us. All our communications were knocked out. And the fellow, Private Ross, with our walkie-talkie, took a direct hit with an 88, so from then on, as far as we were concerned, we were a lost platoon. Then they sent the infantry again, and again we drove them back. Our platoon leader, Lieutenant Oakley, was badly wounded(he died a few hours later). After he left, I began crawling around, getting all the ammunition and grenades from the dead and wounded, for I knew we would need every round we could get our hands on. I took stock of what weapons we had, and it turned out to be a good thing, for right after that the Germans hit us again. They must have received reinforcements, for the artillery shells and mortars were coming in like machine gun fire. I don’t know how it was possible to live through it. Then the infantry came again and we gave them everything we had. The machine gun I had was so hot it quit firing. I took Private McClatchy’s BAR, he had been wounded earlier, and fired it until I ran out of ammunition. I then took a machine gun that belonged to a couple of men who took a very near it. They were killed. The gun had no tripod, so I rested it across a pile of dirt and used it. With this and one other machine gun and a 60 mm. mortar, we stopped them, but they had gotten to within 25 yards of us. I really thought we we had it, but then they threw up a Red Cross flag and stopped firing. I quickly stood up and stopped my men. I sent a man back to see if he could find some help for us. I moved to where I could get a good view of the causeway. I estimated that I could see at least 200 dead or wounded Germans scattered about. I don’t know how many were in the river. It took them about two hours to get there wounded out, then they started shelling us again, but not as bad as before. About two in the morning I heard a tank on the causeway and thought here we go again. Then I heard them trying to push the disabled tank out of the way and I knew if they succeeded we would be through, so I took a couple of Gammon grenades (plastic C) and crawled to approximately 30 or 40 yards from them. It was quite dark. The first grenade I threw missed and hit the disabled tank instead of the one (tank) that was trying to move it. The Germans didn’t take any more chances, they put the tank into reverse and moved back. They continued shelling us all day long, but it was only sporadic. They never tried to get the infantry across again after they raised the Red Cross flag.
(Staff Sergeant Owens’ unit was relieved by the 508th Parachute Infantry that night after the second day of fighting.)
Unfortunately, Owens died in 1967, so this is a posthumous award upgrade. He did leave the war with a collection of fruit salad to prove his bona fides. To go with the Victory and campaign medals, a mustard stain or two on his jump wings, the CIB, and the Bronze Star Medal that is now a DSC, he wore a Silver Star.
Owens’ Silver Star citation;
The President of the United States of America, authorized by Act of Congress July 9, 1918, takes pleasure in presenting the Silver Star to Staff Sergeant William D. Owens (ASN: 16068342), United States Army, for gallantry in action on 20 September 1944, near ****, Holland. Staff Sergeant Owens, Platoon Sergeant, Company A, 1st Battalion, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82d Airborne Division, under direct enemy small arms fire climbed a fence carrying an M-6 Machine Gun and set up covering fire enabling his platoon to advance. His platoon was in the attack and was being held up by an enemy strong point of automatic weapons, which could not be flanked because of the type of terrain. Staff Sergeant Owens, cradling the machine gun in his arms, climbed the fence under enemy small arms fire and took up a position on the enemy’s side, as a base of fire. As a result of his heroic action, the platoon was enabled to advance and drive back the enemy. The heroic action and exemplary conduct of Staff Sergeant Owens was in keeping with the highest traditions of the Airborne Forces of the United States Army.
Category: Army, Distinguished Service Cross, Historical, Valor, WWII
Give me a bunch Little Groups of Paratroopers (LGoP) any day in a fire fight and we will win the day!
Help a Marine out: what is the “mustard stain” on jump wings? I’m assuming he made multiple combat jumps?
In the Army, one is awarded a star to be placed on their jump wings for every recognized jump into combat conditions. This is called a “mustard stain” for its esthetic appearance on the wings in uniform. Especially the subdued version.
Hardcore Badass. Gotta wonder since he was bringing every other type of weapon to bear, how many Krauts he took out with them big ol’ brass ones he had. Salute! MoH material should be the “up grade”.
Thanks again, Mason.