Memorial

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Capt Grantham attended State University where he was a member of the Scabbard and Blade, Monogram Club, American Society of Civil Engineers, Life Saving Corps, and A.G.C. He was a member of the Swimming team for four years, holding the Southern Conference Diving Championship. He was vice president of the senior class.

He took the ROTC course for four years, serving as Regimental Sergeant Major his junior year and Regimental Staff Major his senior year.

Capt Grantham was first called into active service in February 1942, and after a few months of training at Fort Benning, Georgia, he was sent to the Pacific area in May of the same year. He served on Guadalcanal and other islands and wore two battle stars on his Pacific Campaign Ribbon. During his tour of duty he contracted a tropical disease and was returned to the United States in September 1943 for hospitalization.

After being treated at McCloskey General Hospital in Temple, Texas, he was stationed at Camp Claiborne, Louisiana, until he was sent into combat in the European Theater.

Jack Hyland, a member of his unit recalled what happened on the day of his death: "What happened was during the Bulge January 10 near the Vielsalm-Laroche Road, we were sort of dug in and two young Germans came near our front and were taken to the Company Command Post. Capt Grantham had been ordered to have the company move out and take the hill in front of us. Deep snow all around-cold, etc. The Germans were probably like me, about 19, and when questioned about whether there were any Germans near the hill, one said he didn't know. The other said no, there weren't any up there. So Capt Grantham led the reinforced patrol and when we got near the top of the hill machine guns and rifle fire started coming from the top and both sides. My two buddies Dick Owens and Bob Young were killed along with the Captain. The fire was so intense you couldn't get near them. After a few minutes (like days) the guys started to pull back. When got back down the hill to where the CP was and word spread that the Captain was killed, Young and Owens also, some I don't remember, plus many wounded, so everybody left was stunned, quiet, tears of rage for the loss of the Captain and our buddies with which we had trained together in the States.

Jim Grantham looked like a kid, but then we were all kids. Brought tears to my eyes. I was with him the day he was killed in snowy Belgium. I remember dragging him back through the snow by his officer's overcoat. The weirdest thoughts went through my mind at the time. We were so indoctrinated with the concept that if anything broke or were damaged beyond repair, that we were to bring it or pieces of it back and it would be replaced, no questions asked. I found myself thinking that we were turning in Capt Grantham for a replacement.