William J. Crawford's Medal of Honor at Hurtgen Forest

Dec 13 , 2025

William J. Crawford's Medal of Honor at Hurtgen Forest

William J. Crawford’s hands bled, but his rifle never wavered. Dirt and smoke choked the frozen air. Around him, deaths screamed—friends crushed by the German onslaught. Yet, in that hellscape of Hurtgen Forest, he stood alone. Wounded in the leg, his voice cracked, yelling orders, firing through gritted teeth. No retreat. No surrender. Just raw grit, raw faith.

The Quiet Steel of a Farm Boy

Born in Texas, 1918, William was the embodiment of hard soil and hard work. Raised on the plains, faith was as much a part of his daily bread as sweat. A Methodist mother and father instilled a code: stand your ground, honor those who came before, never lose sight of what’s right. He was a man forged before war—steady and unyielding.

His draft into the 28th Infantry Division didn’t bend him. Instead, the war sharpened the edges. “God is my refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble,” became more than scripture. It became a battle cry etched inside his chest—quiet but fierce.

The Battle That Defined Him

November 26, 1944, Hurtgen Forest, Germany. The trees were skeletons, the ground a trap. The enemy launched wave after wave of attacks. William was the squad machine gunner, his weapon the last barrier between death and his men.

In the thick of the fight, he was hit. A bullet tore through his left leg. But he didn’t drop. Crawling on shattered limbs, blood pooling beneath frostbitten hands, he repositioned his machine gun. His squad was pinned down—every second counted.

He stood to rally them—exposed to enemy fire, screaming defiance. When a grenade rolled close, he dove—sacrificing his body to shield his brothers. Despite the wounds, he kept firing until reinforcements arrived. His adamant stand bought lives. The line held.

Pain was secondary. Duty was everything.

The Medal of Honor: Blood and Valor

Congress awarded him the Medal of Honor on August 23, 1945. The citation reads:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty... Crawford repeatedly exposed himself to enemy fire, and despite severe wounds, continued to man his machine gun, inspiring his comrades and holding the line against superior enemy forces.”

General orders recognized a “selfless determination that helped change the course of the engagement.”

Comrades remember a man who never sought glory. Sergeant Paul Revere, his squad mate, said,

“Crawford fought like a cornered wolf. When everyone else faltered, he held the line. Not just with bullets, but with heart.”

Beyond the Medal: A Legacy Etched in Sacrifice

William J. Crawford’s story is not one of mythic heroism but stern reality—sacrifice stitched through the seams of war. His scars, both seen and unseen, testify to the price of freedom. Yet, he walked away humbled, leaning on the promise from Psalm 18:2:

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge.”

He carried that refuge into peace, dedicating his life to veterans’ causes, reminding us war leaves deep marks but also deep resolve.

His fight teaches this: Courage is not the absence of fear or injury—it is choosing to stand when everything inside screams to fall. Sacrifice isn’t decoration—it’s the raw cost of holding the line for those who cannot.

Men like William don't fade. They engrave their legacy in the marrow of our freedom. Every pair of boots that marches forward owes a debt to men who, like him, faced hell and refused to blink.

In the end, his story is ours—blood and faith intertwined—reminding every soul, veteran and civilian alike, that true courage means standing up, wounded or not, because some lines are worth dying on to keep.