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He was christened <em>Bernard William McQuade</em> and took B. William as his official designation, but his intimates called him Mac so Til continue that usage here.</div>
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Mac was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, not far from Ellis Island in the years immediately after its peak as the entry point for the “Great American Melting Pot.” Mac's parents were substantial citizens; his father was a police captain. After Mac completed the public schools, he spent a semester at Columbia University before entering West Point.</div>
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At USMA, the boy from Brooklyn was a philosopher and wit in the best Irish tradition. I had enough contact with Mac over the four years at West Point to get to know him quite well. Many times his approach was different from mine, but I liked the guy.</div>
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The ludicrous, incongruous and amusing all came under his observation to be followed by a comment couched in his acerbic wit. Everything west of the Hudson was an unexplored wasteland and when the Corps went to Pittsburgh for a football game, Mac wanted to change his boodle book into wampum and learn the sign language.</div>
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Mac chose the Infantry on graduation and after the usual doughboy duties of those times graduated from the Infantry School. On 6 August 1936, he married Anne McGarry.</div>
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In 1937, Mac transferred to the Field Artillery, graduated from the Field Artillery School, and filled increasingly demanding assignments as World War II approached. By October 1941, when Mac helped activate the 58th Field Artillery Battalion (Armored) at Fort Knox, his family included two small children, Anne and B, William, Jr.</div>
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The 58th was a product of the times: formed from a cadre provided by an existing unit, living in tents in a bitter cold winter, splitting to provide cadres to new units after Pearl Harbor day. Mac assumed command as a captain in January 1942, relinquished it briefly to a major, then resumed command until the end; his end.</div>
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Throughout the war, the 58th was a “separate” battalion; a mobile, flexible artillery unit with no overhead, which was attached temporarily to larger combat organizations as the exigencies of battle dictated. Mac’s story is the story of the unit he activated and led until he died.</div>
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In November 1942, Mac took his battalion on a bleak sea voyage from New York to Casablanca to follow up the American entry into North Africa. The 58th entered battle in Tunisia and fought continuously against the vaunted troops of Field Marshal Rommel during the last months of the war in Africa with the 34th Division, the 1st Division, the 13th Field Artillery Brigade; wherever they were needed. Mac got the Silver Star for “gallantry, leadership and concern...for his men,” but he said, “I did it with very little exposure to danger and hardly think I am entitled to it.”</div>
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Back home, Anne said, “He’s like that. He felt the same way about the Purple Heart he received in February.”</div>
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For the Sicilian invasion, the first penetration of Allied troops into Europe in World War II, Mac’s unit was there from the beginning. The terrain and the enemy were both tough, and Mac had his ups and downs. On an independent mission, his battalion seized a town, took 3000 prisoners and for 24 hours operated a prisoner of war camp before higher authority relieved them.</div>
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Two weeks later they took part in an amphibious end run on the coast to land behind enemy lines and work havoc. The next day their luck ran out in a similar operation at 0300. There was no surprise and they were plastered by direct fire. Their equipment was destroyed and the remaining men joined the infantry for the night.</div>
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That setback was temporary, however, and when the Sicilian campaign ended, the 58th left their equipment behind and sailed through a submarine pack to England for integration into the forces which would cross the channel on D-Day six months later. The unit combined rigorous, realistic training with warm socializing with the heroic British people. The men gave a Christmas party for the children of Adderbury, complete with a Santa Claus loaded with sweets from their rations and packages from home. Mac, with a young lieutenant, wore his best O.D.S at a black tie affair with the Lord of the Manor in his castle. They knew what the hard-pressed British needed and brought large cans of G.I. fruit salad as a hostess gift. When the 58th entertained at their bivouac, the British passed up the tea to consume gallons of coffee with dozens of huge homemade doughnuts.</div>
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On D-Day, elements of the 58th went ashore at H-Hour. Mac was waist deep in water, struggling to help a wounded sergeant when machine gun fire cut him down. Other officers, enlisted men, and guns were lost. Mac was replaced as commanding officer of the battalion by one of their own and the unit kept going.</div>
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Until the end of World War II the 58th continued as a small separate combat unit, always attached to a larger unit fighting in action where they were needed; with 19 divisions, in seven corps which were parts of four field armies. Mac’s replacement was also killed during the total of 417 days of combat in 12 countries.</div>
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On 6 June 1984, a few of the 58th were again at Omaha Beach with Americans and allies from all over the world to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the D-Day landings. An attractive bronze plaque with the design of their shoulder patch and the statement “The 58th Armored Field Artillery Battalion landed here 6 June 1944” had been made in the US and shipped to France. Mounted on an attractive stone base made for it, it was in place at the Vierville draw at the west end of Omaha Beach where the 58th had landed 40 years before. It had been arranged by the 58th Armored Field Artillery Battalion Association of World War II which was formed after the war and draws about 200 members for its annual reunion in Greenville, South Carolina.</div>
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For all of the material about Mac in the 58th I am indebted to William M. Donnelly, who worked his way through every rank from private to captain in the 58th, including that most hazardous of jobs in a risky occupation—artillery forward observer. I have not been able to locate Mac’s widow or his two children. My fervent hope is that someone who reads this final salute to a great soldier will know where they are and get this to them.</div>
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The young French mayor of Vierville called Bill Donnelly and arranged for the dedication ceremony followed by a vin d’honeur for the little unit which never numbered more than 800, commanded by a lieutenant colonel. Eight generals, the 1st Division color guard, a 180 piece band, and a large throng of American and French people heard the address of William M. Donnelly, Captain, Retired, on 6 June. It was made at the site of the marker, and he pointed to the place a short distance away where Mac was killed as he dedicated the little monument to Bernard William McQuade. I can think of no better way to end than with a quotation from that speech:</div>
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“Our beloved commanding officer had led us this far; he got no farther, dying in shallow water (over there) by machine gun fire while attempting to drag his wounded sergeant to safety. Lieutenant Colonel Bernard W. McQuade was his name. Tough, wiry, acid-tongued (he could really take it off in painful strips), brilliant, brave, impatient, tireless, a perfectionist and fair. The officers knew it; the men knew it. We all adored him.”</div>
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<em>Ken Zitzman Classmate</em></div>
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