Unknown 7

CAPT William R. Winters

  • Branch: Army
  • Hometown/City: IL
  • Date of Birth:
  • Date of Death:
  • Conflict: WWII
  • Unit:
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  • Unknown 7

    Captain William Robert Winters
    9th Air Force, 50th Fighter Group, 81st Fighter Squadron
    KIA 25 November 1944 near Postroff, France

    Dad was born 2 Jul 1917 in Delavan, WI, to Will and Grace Winters. He lost his father in an automobile crash when he was only 8. Along with his sister, Margaret, and brother, Ed, he was raised by his single mother and graduated high school in 1935. In September 1940, both Bob and Ed enlisted in the Army at Chanute Field, Rantoul, Illinois.

    Private Winters was promoted to Corporal in February 1942. He soloed for the first time in May 1942, and spent 3 months in San Antonio, TX, as an Aviation Cadet. He graduated at Foster Field in Victoria, TX on 10 Nov 1942 and was commissioned 2nd Lieutenant. Four days later he arrived in Orlando, FL assigned to the newly formed 81st Fighter Squadron, where he was tagged with the nickname “Whitey” (due to his thinning white hair) by his new buddies.
    Gloria Dickens had lived in Orlando most of her life, growing up with her mother who had moved from Georgia when Gloria was just two. Gloria graduated in 1941 and soon the town was bustling with Army Air Corps boys arriving to train at Orlando Air Base. Gloria had no desire to have any involvement with those raucous boys.

    Only a few days after his arrival in Orlando, Dad dug out the name and phone number given to him by a hometown friend and placed his first call to “Peaches,” a nickname Gloria acquired due to her southern roots. Keeping to her earlier resolution, she told him she wasn’t interested in going out with any Army guys, but he persisted until Gloria finally agreed to their first date in late 1942. In the spring of ‘43, Dad finally got to travel home to Delavan to see his Mommy for the first time since his enlistment. While home for 5 days, he barely mentioned he had met a girl in Orlando and gave his mother no indication there was any serious involvement. Shortly after returning to Orlando, he wrote to his mother with the news he had given “the girl” (no name) a ring. A few days later he wrote home again to tell her a wedding was planned for 3 Jun 1943 at the Orlando Air Base Chapel and he was really sorry she couldn’t be there.
    Dad continued combat training at Orlando and Cross City. The squadron left Orlando in March 1944, and went to New York where they boarded the HMS Sterling Castle for the two week trip to Lymington, UK. From there Dad flew three close air support missions on D-Day. The squadron soon moved into France and across the country as the ground troops advanced.
    I was born July 16, but Dad wouldn’t know it for 11 days, and when he finally saw my photo on November 15th, he wrote to Mom, “I really feel quite flattered to be his Daddy. You know I don’t think I ever really felt proud about anything before until I saw the picture this morning – and then I knew I was proud to have a family – to be Billy’s Daddy…. for the first time I have really realized I have a family. Because he does look something like me I think.”
    Dad died ten days later, on 25 Nov 1944, flying his P-47, “Peaches,” on a mission from Toul-Ochey, to Sarrebourg. The Missing Air Crew Report says, “Red and yellow flights were making simultaneous strafing and dive bombing passes on two roads about one-half mile apart… I saw our flight leader, Capt. William Winters, about 20 feet above the ground and going in. The aircraft hit with a very violent explosion. There was very intense, light, accurate flak in the area.”
    Mom received the MIA telegram on 9 Dec 1944 and KIA telegram on 29 Apr 1945. Dad’s IDPF revealed that his body was so badly mangled that identification was impossible until his fingerprints were confirmed by the FBI in DC. In 1948, at Mom’s instruction, Dad was permanently buried at the Lorraine American Cemetery at St Avold, France.
    Dad was posthumously awarded the Purple Heart, the Distinguished Flying Cross with the citation: “For extraordinary achievement while participating in aerial flight against the enemy in the European Theater of Operations. On 17 August 1944, Captain Winters led his flight against an extremely large enemy force… he inflicted severe damage to the enemy which contributed in large measure to the successful advances achieved by our ground forces on the Continent. The superior airmanship and deep devotion to duty displayed by Captain Winters on this occasion is in keeping with the highest traditions of the Army Air Forces,” and the Air Medal with Two Silver and Four Bronze Oak Leaf Clusters with the citation: “In recognition of meritorious achievement while participating in aerial flight against the enemy in the European Theater of Operations, he having participated in the required number of operational sorties, and for participating in sustained operational flights against the enemy.”
    In a grief filled letter to his wife just a few days after the crash, my father’s commanding officer wrote the greatest tribute: “Bob is the most loved man in the organization. He receives more respect from the personnel than the Group C. O. himself. Tell Gloria that we love him here as she loves him. We here are a strange lot but we do learn men and Bob is a man. I know – I fought with him. You have a hard task ahead of you Jeannie; you’ve got to make Gloria realize that there is a lot of life ahead of her and that Billy has a dad to be proud of and to live up to.”
    Fortunately, Mom raised me to understand who and what my father was, and that I must do my best to live up to his standard. Mom married again in January 1946, to my uncle, Dad’s brother Ed. I grew up with 2 half-brothers and 4 half-sisters in a large, happy family home. The rest of Dad’s family moved from Wisconsin to Orlando by 1950 and they made sure I knew my father was someone very special. Many of Dad’s buddies had married Orlando girls during their training in 1944, so they came back to Orlando to settle after the war, keeping in touch with Mom and becoming my friends. Mom died at age 87, leaving me with the profound knowledge of my father that I am so very thankful to have. His loving son.
    Billy Winters

    Billy Winters, Child