Colorado Day

William (Bill) J. Crawford was born and lived in Pueblo, Colorado, until he was drafted into the U.S. Army in July 1942. Before the war he was working as a carpenter constructing barracks at Fort Carson, near Colorado Springs. By September 13, 1943, he was serving as a private with the 142nd Infantry Regiment 36th Infantry Division in southern Italy. On that day, he was acting as a squad scout when his company attacked German positions in a town 100 miles south of Naples, Italy. The Congressional Medal of Honor Society website describes his boldness in battle,  

“After reaching the crest of a hill, the platoon was pinned down by intense enemy machine-gun and small-arms fire. Locating one of these guns, which was dug in on a terrace on his immediate front, Pvt. Crawford, without orders and on his own initiative moved over the hill under enemy fire to a point within a few yards of the gun emplacement and singlehandedly destroyed the machine gun and killed three of the crew with a hand grenade, thus enabling his platoon to continue its advance. When the platoon, after reaching the crest, was once more delayed by enemy fire, Pvt. Crawford again, in the face of intense fire, advanced directly to the front midway between two hostile machine-gun nests located on a higher terrace and emplaced in a small ravine. Moving first to the left, with a grenade he destroyed one gun emplacement and killed the crew; he then worked his way, under continuous fire, to the other and with one grenade and the use of his rifle, killed one enemy and forced the remainder to flee. Seizing the enemy machine gun, he fired on the withdrawing Germans and facilitated his company's advance.”

After the battle, Crawford was captured by the Germans and taken to a prison of war camp, Stalag 2B Hammerstein for 18 months. Over 65,000 allied prisoners of war died at Stalag 2B, and the United States Military Intelligence Service in their report American Prisoners of War in Germany had this to say about Stalag 2B,

“Treatment was worse at Stalag 2B than at any other camp in Germany established for American PW before the Battle of the Bulge. Harshness at the base Stalag degenerated into brutality and outright murder on some of the kommandos. Beatings of Americans on kommandos by their German overseers were too numerous to list, but records show that 10 Americans in work detachments were shot to death by their captors.”

The report “American Prisoners of War in Germany” relayed more detail about four of the deaths.   

“Typical of the circumstances surrounding the shootings are the events connected with the deaths of Prc. Dean Halbert and Pvt. Franklin Read. On 28 August 1943, these two soldiers had been assigned to a kommando at Gambin. in the district of Stolp. While working in the fields, they asked permission to leave their posts for the purpose of relieving themselves. They remained away from their work until the work detachment guard became suspicious and went looking for them. Some time later he returned them to the place where they had been working and reported the incident to his superior. Both of the kommando guards were then instructed to escort the Americans to the kommando barracks. Shortly after they had departed, several shots were heard by the rest of the Americans on the work detachment. Presently the two guards returned and reported that both Ptc. Halbert and Pvt. Reed had been shot to death for attempting escape. The guards then ordered other Americans to carry the bodies to the barracks.  On another kommando, the Germans shot and killed two Americans, stripped them, and placed the bodies in the latrine, where they lay for two days serving as a warning to other PW.”

On January 28, 1945, the prisoners of Stalag 2B were sent on a forced march of 13 ½ miles a day, with little food and water, and freezing temperatures. They slept on the ground or in a barn when it could be found. At one point, Spitfires strafed the prisoners, killing 10 before they reached their destination, Stalag 10B. Conditions at Stalag 10B, that the British who liberated the camp at the end of the war called it "Little Belsen" based on the concentration camp Bergen Belsen. Then they were marched onto another detention camp called Marlag 10C. On April 28, 1945, this group originally from Stalag 2B was freed from captivity by British forces in Marlag 10C. Crawford came home to find that the Medal of Honor had been presented to his father in 1944 in his honor for his heroism in Italy.

In 1946, Crawford reenlisted in the Army and served in Colorado as an Army Recruiter and Career Counselor rising to the rank of Master Sergeant. He had several other jobs including as a technical advisor on a movie “Force of Arms” released in 1951.  He attended a reception in 1963 at the White House for Medal of Honor Winners and met President John F. Kennedy. After his retirement from the Army he took a job as a janitor at the U.S. Air Force Academy. 

This is what Col. James Moschgat, 12th Operations Group Commander wrote about meeting Crawford at the Air Force Academy:

“William “Bill” Crawford certainly was an unimpressive figure; one you could easily overlook during a hectic day at the U.S. Air Force Academy. Mr. Crawford, as most of us referred to him back in the late 1970s, was our squadron janitor. While we cadets busied ourselves preparing for academic exams, athletic events, Saturday morning parades and room inspections, or never-ending leadership classes, Bill quietly moved about the squadron mopping and buffing floors, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, or just tidying up the mess 100 college age kids can leave in a dormitory. Sadly, and for many years, few of us gave him much notice, rendering little more than a passing nod or throwing a curt, “G’morning!” in his direction as we hurried off to our daily duties….

 That changed one fall Saturday afternoon in 1976. I was reading a book about World War II and the tough Allied ground campaign in Italy, when I stumbled across an incredible story. On Sept. 13, 1943, a Private William Crawford from Colorado, assigned to the 36th Infantry Division, had been involved in some bloody fighting on Hill 424 near Altavilla, Italy…. “Holy cow,” I said to my roommate, “you’re not going to believe this, but I think our janitor is a Medal of Honor winner.” We all knew Mr. Crawford was a WWII Army vet, but that didn't keep my friend from looking at me as if I was some sort of alien being. Nonetheless, we couldn't wait to ask Bill about the story on Monday.  We met Mr. Crawford bright and early Monday and showed him the page in question from the book, anticipation and doubt on our faces. He starred at it for a few silent moments and then quietly uttered something like, “Yep, that’s me.” Mouths agape, my roommate and I looked at one another, then at the book, and quickly back at our janitor.  Almost at once we both stuttered, “Why didn’t you ever tell us about it?” He slowly replied after some thought, “That was one day in my life, and it happened a long time ago.” I guess we were all at a loss for words after that. We had to hurry off to class and Bill, well, he had chores to attend to.

 However, after that brief exchange, things were never again the same around our squadron. Word spread like wildfire among the cadets that we had a hero in our midst -Mr. Crawford, our janitor, had won the Medal! Cadets who had once passed by Bill with hardly a glance, now greeted him with a smile and a respectful, “Good morning, Mr. Crawford.” Those who had before left a mess for the “janitor” to clean up started taking it upon themselves to put things in order.

Most cadets routinely stopped to talk to Bill throughout the day and we even began inviting him to our formal squadron functions.  He'd show up dressed in a conservative dark suit and quietly talk to those who approached him, the only sign of his heroics being a simple blue, star-spangled lapel pin.  Almost overnight, Bill went from being a simple fixture in our squadron to one of our teammates.

Mr. Crawford changed too, but you had to look closely to notice the difference. After that fall day in 1976, he seemed to move with more purpose, his shoulders didn’t seem to be as stooped, he met our greetings with a direct gaze and a stronger “good morning” in return, and he flashed his crooked smile more often.

The squadron gleamed as always, but everyone seemed to notice it more. Bill even got to know most of us by our first names, something that didn't happen often at the Academy. While no one ever formally acknowledged the change, I think we became Bill’s cadets and his squadron.

As often happens in life, events sweep us away from those in our past. The last time I saw Bill was on graduation day in June 1977. As I walked out of the squadron for the last time, he shook my hand and simply said, “Good luck, young man.”

With that, I embarked on a career that has been truly lucky and blessed. Mr. Crawford continued to work at the Academy and eventually retired in his native Colorado where he resides today, one of four Medal of Honor winners living in a small town.

A wise person once said, “It’s not life that’s important, but those you meet along the way that make the difference.” Bill was one who made a difference for me. While I haven't seen Mr. Crawford in over twenty years, he'd probably be surprised to know I think of him often. Bill Crawford, our janitor, taught me many valuable, unforgettable leadership lessons. Here are ten I'd like to share with you.

• Be Cautious of Labels. Labels you place on people may define your relationship to them and bound their potential. Sadly, and for a long time, we labeled Bill as just a janitor, but he was so much more.
• Everyone Deserves Respect. Because we hung the “janitor” label on Mr. Crawford, we often wrongly treated him with less respect than others around us. He deserved much more, and not just because he was a Medal of Honor winner. Bill deserved respect because he was a janitor, walked among us, and was a part of our team.
• Courtesy Makes a Difference. Be courteous to all around you, regardless of rank or position. Military customs, as well as common courtesies, help bond a team. When our daily words to Mr. Crawford turned from perfunctory “hellos” to heartfelt greetings, his demeanor and personality outwardly changed. It made a difference for all of us.
• Take Time to Know Your People. Life in the military is hectic, but that’s no excuse for not knowing the people you work for and with. For years, a hero walked among us at the Academy, and we never knew it. Who are the heroes that walk in your midst?
• Anyone Can Be a Hero. Mr. Crawford certainly didn’t fit anyone’s standard definition of a hero. Moreover, he was just a private on the day he won his Medal. Don’t sell your people short, for any one of them may be the hero who rises to the occasion when duty calls. On the other hand, it’s easy to turn to your proven performers when the chips are down, but don’t ignore the rest of the team. Today’s rookie could and should be tomorrow’s superstar.
• Leaders Should Be Humble. Most modern-day heroes and some leaders are anything but humble, especially if you calibrate your “hero meter” on today’s athletic fields. End zone celebrations and self-aggrandizement are what we’ve come to expect from sports greats. Not Mr. Crawford-he was too busy working to celebrate his past heroics. Leaders would be well-served to do the same.
• Life Won’t Always Hand You What You Think You Deserve. We in the military work hard and, dang it, we deserve recognition, right? However, sometimes you just have to persevere, even when accolades don’t come your way. Perhaps you weren’t nominated for junior officer or airman of the quarter as you thought you should-don’t let that stop you. Don’t pursue glory; pursue excellence. Private Bill Crawford didn’t pursue glory; he did his duty and then swept floors for a living.
• No Job is Beneath a Leader. If Bill Crawford, a Medal of Honor winner, could clean latrines and smile, is there a job beneath your dignity? Think about it.
• Pursue Excellence. No matter what task life hands you, do it well. Dr. Martin Luther King said, “If life makes you a street sweeper, be the best street sweeper you can be.” Mr. Crawford modeled that philosophy and helped make our dormitory area a home.
• Life is a Leadership Laboratory. All too often we look to some school or PME class to teach us about leadership when, in fact, life is a leadership laboratory. Those you meet every day will teach you enduring lessons if you just take time to stop, look and listen. I spent four years at the Air Force Academy, took dozens of classes, read hundreds of books, and met thousands of great people. I gleaned leadership skills from all of them, but one of the people I remember most is Mr. Bill Crawford and the lessons he unknowingly taught. Don’t miss your opportunity to learn.

Bill Crawford was a janitor. However, he was also a teacher, friend, role model and one great American hero. Thanks, Mr. Crawford, for some valuable leadership lessons.”

Crawford received some recognition for his heroism during his lifetime. Perhaps the most prestigious event was when the cadets at the Air Force Academy requested that President Ronald Reagan formally present the Medal of Honor to Crawford and President Reagan did during a commencement address in 1984. Crawford died March 15, 2000, and is buried at the U.S. Air Force Academy.

Colorado remembers the heroism of William Crawford in different ways. A stretch of Highway 105 in Monument has been named the Medal of Honor Master Sgt. William J. Crawford Highway.  You can also find a monument to William Crawford and three other Medal of Honor Recipients in Pueblo, CO.