Memorial

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Private Adkins enlisted in August 1941, and had been overseas since December 1944.

Due to the slower progress of the 90th Division, the left flank was exposed and enemy snipers infiltrates and inflicted some casualties.
A comrade, Ray Johnson, remembers: “One of my most vivid memories is about a young, blonde friend from Kentucky, Wally Adkins. Wally was always singing `I'm not denying that my heart will be flying, when I get to Kentucky.' Wally joined B Company when all of us from A.S.T.P. were reassigned to the infantry in March 1944. He must have been about 19 or 20 years of age, had a dry and quick sense of humor. He laughed a lot, and swore the best whiskey in the world was made in Kentucky.
On a cold, snowy night, early in January 1945, we were on a forced march between 2 little Belgian villages. Longchamps and Cobru come to mind, but may not be accurate. It must have been about midnight as we were slogging along when Wally said to me `Johnson, when we were in Camp Cook I just hated to march behind you, you were always out of step, but here in this snow you march just right!' I accepted this as a compliment as under the circumstances I suppose it added a little humanity to a miserably cold situation.
My next memory of Wally is when we entered the Sigfried Line in Germany. You may recall we left our bivouac area before daylight. Walking down a road we suddenly were fired upon by a German machine gun squad and we hit the dirt. The forward platoon silenced the German soldiers who we found out were all drunk, and should never have fired on us in their condition. Going on down into the valley we crossed a mine field while some of our buddies held the wires as we stepped over them. As I recall, the German soldiers had abandoned the concrete bunkers on their side of the valley and so this objective was easily taken. Some of our company captured several German soldiers and Captain Fabrick asked for volunteers to take the prisoners back to the rear echelon. Several of us volunteered but Wally was chosen to do this. We kidded him for being so lucky.
Wally took the prisoners back to the village behind us and as it was almost nighttime he found a nice warm, soft hayloft to sleep in that night. We were out in the cold, wet weather either in a foxhole or holed up in one of the concrete bunkers, as there was frequent shelling by the German artillery.
The next morning we learned that Wally's hayloft had received a direct hit during the shelling and that he had been killed in one of those contradictory events of war that just happen. We had each one wanted to take the prisoners back to where we figured it would be safer than on the front lines. But fate figured it differently. I liked Wally. And when I get to Kentucky my heart will be flying in his memory, and in looking forward to seeing all of you who can be there. And one mint julep will be for Wally.”

On the picture William (Bill) Adkins at his brothers grave.