Memorial

Biography

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1st Lt Don Smith graduated from Bonham High School in 1935 where he served as an officer of his class and was a member of the Honor Society, taking an active part in school activities. He attended the University of Texas and George Washington University, being a student at the latter school when he enlisted in Richmond, Virginia on 16 September 1941, receiving training at Camp Wolters, Texas, and Fort Ord, California, before being sent to the Hawaiian Islands for a short tour of duty. In December 1942, he was returned to the United States and entered officers candidate school at Fort Benning, Georgia. He received his commission in February 1943.

He then taught gunnery at Camp Robinson, Arkansas and then studied mine laying and detecting and later served as an instructor in that at Camp Claiborne, Louisiana. In the early part of September 1944 he was sent overseas.

Lt Smith was fatally wounded early the morning of 4 December 1944 as he was wearily returning from the front lines where he had been helping to render medical aid to wounded members of his company.

The infantry had been attacking for days through the rain and clinging mud, blasting the Wehrmacht from pillbox after pillbox.

Just after a heavy attack the company suffered heavy casualties and the wounded were lying in dank, dark cellars, waiting helplessly for litter-bearers from the rear. Then the message came, saying that the men could not be evacuated because of heavy enemy artillery fire. It meant that brave men would lie and die in their own blood, two miles from expert medical care. In the room crowded with staff officers and rifle company commanders, no one spoke. Lt Smith slipped quietly into the dark rubble-strewn street.

When a friend saw him again, he was leading a motley group of litter-bearers down the road - cooks, mail orderlies, drivers and mechanics who volunteered to follow this mild little man on his mission of mercy. Twenty-five men were carried to the rear and to hospital care that night.

Down that same muddy street, Lt Smith returned in the half-light of dawn, walking wearily, slowly where battle-wise infantrymen ran to avoid enemy fire. He was too tired, too sick in heart to run. The "thrrump" of a single mortar shell was all his friend heard, but Lt Smith never heard it at all.