I am lucky in having a large box of my father's letters, sent to and saved by my mother, so I really feel I know him quite well, although I only met him once.

William Shepard was born in St. Paul Minnesota on January 21, 1919. His father, George Shepard, was City Engineer for St. Paul and Bill graduated from MIT with a degree in mechanical engineering. In 1941, he was working as an engineer for Kimberly Clark Paper Company in Niagara, Wisconsin, near the Michigan border when he met my mother, Jean Anger, who was on her first job as a high school history teacher. The romance progressed quickly and when he was sent as a lieutenant (having attended Shattuck Military Academy in Minnesota) to Fort Ord, California, they made hasty plans to marry, which occurred there on March 21, 1942.

When possible, during their marriage, as he was sent to various bases, they lived together or my mother lived in nearby military housing. After a stint on Attu, he was promoted to first lieutenant and assigned as Aide-de-camp to General Frank Culin in the 85th Hq-2 with the famous 10th Mountain Division and began his mountain training at Camp Hale, Colorado in 1943.

A sad event occurred on July 12, 1944, when my father's brother, Robert Shepard, was killed in the fighting after D-Day in France. Meanwhile, expecting me, my mother returned to my grandparents' home in Oshkosh Wisconsin and I was born in Oshkosh in October, 1944, subject of much delight and letter writing between my parents. On November 13, my father was able to get a leave to come to see me. I guess I laughed all during his visit and he wondered why I found him so funny!

The 10th Mountaineers had been sent to Camp Swift, Texas, where it seems they all got chiggers and it was a rude change from the Colorado Mountains. My father was promoted to Captain, having attended Officer Candidate School in Fort Benning, Georgia and by the end of December was on the USS West Point headed for Naples, Italy where they landed on January 13, 1945. The Division was then trucked to the Po Valley, where they engaged in a fierce campaign to push the Germans, who were by now pretty much in retreat, out of Italy.

My father's letters tell of how he used his engineering skills to make life easier for his men, setting up generators for electric lights, radios, even ice cream freezers, all of which endeared him to his company. He belittled the danger in writing to my mother, but was later awarded the Silver Star for gallantry in action on Feb. 21, 1945 near Cappla di Ronchidos, Italy. The citation says, in part, "Observing that his platoon was unable to beat off the attack, he boldly made his way through the fire, at great risk to his own life, to go from foxhole to foxhole, rally the men, and literally push them into action. When the platoon leader was killed, Capt. Shepard took over complete leadership of the group, aggressively fighting until the counter attack was broken up . . ." He was also given a Bronze Star for heroism on April 10 near Mt. Della Spe but his letter of that date only talks about his generators.

Then, ironically and sadly, as it was so near the end of the war, on April 15, 1945, in the time it takes for a bomb to explode, everything ended. Nine letters my mother had written to him, not knowing what had happened, were returned, marked "Deceased." His friend, Major Wade Watson, wrote to my mother of how my father was killed:

Our attack was spearheading the general offensive in Italy. "Bill's battalion had the objective of a hill north and west of Castel d'Aiano. The area was heavily mined and fortified. When night came, Bill started moving the battalion up closer. He stepped off the trail to help one of his men who had been injured by a mine. He stepped on a mine. He was killed instantly with wounds in the chest and abdomen. If he had to die, Jean, it was an easy way."

And another friend, Lt. John W. James, also in a letter to my mother, "Bill's death was a great shock to all the officers and men in the Regiment. He was the finest gentleman any of us ever knew. His courage and bravery, exhibited in previous actions, were a constant source of admiration of all of his fellow soldiers."

I can only add that I am proud that he was my father.