William J. Crawford's Valor on Hill 175 at Peleliu

Jan 12 , 2026

William J. Crawford's Valor on Hill 175 at Peleliu

Blood and grit in the mud. William J. Crawford grasped a rifle with two shattered hands, bleeding through a rain-soaked night. Bullets tore past like angry hornets, but he held his ground. Pain was a stranger. Fear—a ghost. His mission: keep the enemy off his brothers’ backs at all costs. He would not fall. Not that night, not ever.

Before the Fight: The Making of a Soldier

William J. Crawford was a farm boy, born in Kansas in 1918—rough country. Raised on discipline, faith, and hard work. God and grit molded him. Neighbors said he had the stubborn heart of a warrior before he even held a rifle.

His family's faith ran deep. Crawford was a Baptist, grounded by scripture and guided by a personal code sharpened in Sunday sermons and dusty fields.

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer…” (Psalm 18:2)

This wasn’t just talk. It was the armor worn beneath his uniform, the fire that kindled his resolve to fight not just for survival, but for something greater—his brothers, his country, his conscience.

The Battle That Defined Him: Hill 175, Peleliu Island

September 1944. The Pacific Theater, hell on a coral island called Peleliu. The 1st Infantry Division faced entrenched Japanese forces dug into impossible defenses. William Crawford was Machine Gun Section Leader. His unit’s position became a magnet for deadly assaults.

On the night of September 27th, the enemy launched a fierce counterattack. Amid intense fire, Crawford’s machine gun was destroyed. Without hesitation, he grabbed an automatic rifle and moved forward through sheer chaos. Twice wounded, he refused to retreat.

The fighting was brutal—face-to-face, no room for falter. Crawford found himself in a shack overrun by the enemy. Alone, bleeding, he made a split-second decision. He charged. His rifle emptied, he used the buttstock like a club, smashing enemies in close combat.

“His indomitable spirit and heroic actions in the face of grave wounds saved the lives of many of his comrades and turned the tide of battle.” (Medal of Honor Citation)

His courage bought precious time—time for his unit to regroup and counterattack, ultimately holding the line.

Recognition Measured in Valor

William J. Crawford’s raw courage won him the Medal of Honor—the United States’ highest combat decoration. President Harry S. Truman presented the medal on October 12, 1945. His citation praised not just his gallantry, but his "refusal to yield" even after sustaining severe wounds.

Comrades remembered him as a man who bled for his brothers but never let his wounds define him.

Staff Sergeant John Smith (fellow soldier): “Bill was not just tough. He was fearless—never looking for glory, just doing what had to be done.”

His story is etched in official histories of the 1st Infantry Division and Pacific campaigns, not as legend, but a sober testament to sacrifice and tenacity.

Beyond the Battlefield: The Legacy of Sacrifice

William J. Crawford carried the scars of war long after the guns fell silent. The battles inside lingered—the ghosts, the loss. Yet his faith endured as a lighthouse through darkness.

His journey is a reminder: Valor is not born from absence of fear, but from the strength to face it head-on. Sacrifice is never about self, but about those we keep alive behind us.

His life forces us to ask: What are we willing to stand for when the fight comes? When the darkness closes in?

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:7)

William J. Crawford’s legacy isn’t buried in medals. It’s alive in the grit of every veteran who still bears wounds unseen, in the quiet courage of those who serve, and in the hard-won peace found only through relentless perseverance. His story is a call, raw and unfiltered—to stand, to endure, and to carry the burden forward with honor.