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There was not a man in our class who did not know Benny Mills, for there was something contagious about his ready smile and the obvious joy in living that could not be denied. Whether in a football game, at a track meet, in a water tight in summer camp or a march on maneuvers, there was no mistaking the distinctive walk and curly blond hair. Everybody knew Benny Mills, and to know Benny was to like him. When we graduated on that cold winter day in 1943, the newspapers reported that when the last man came forward and received his diploma, the cheers and applause were so great and loud that the field house was filled to the rafters with the echo. Ben was the anchor man and proud of it. He might have wavered on the edge several times, but he always came through in the end with nothing more than another star on his bathrobe. However, nothing interfered with Ben’s enjoyment of life—even the terrors of his being turned out, which bothered his friends much more than himself, failed to dampen his obvious enthusiasm. He lived, and served in combat, just as he played football or any other sport—hard, with complete disregard of himself, and to the limit of enjoyment.</p>
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<em>Benjamin Willis Mills, Jr.,</em> was born at Ancon in the Canal Zone on August 19, 1920, the son of Colonel Benjamin W. Mills and Mrs. Eva M. Mills. Since he was the eldest son of an Army family, service life was a familiar element for him. And yet he managed to grow roots that tied him to Marion, South Carolina, which he always considered his home. Even when in West Point he always followed faithfully the junior football games of the “Swamp Foxes”, the team on which he had played when young. A love of Army life led him naturally to Porter Military Academy in Charleston, South Carolina, where he was graduated in 1937. For the next year he attended The Citadel, also in Charleston, where his athletic talents were well known and recognized, especially in football. Always foremost in his mind, however, was the thought of West Point; so after one year at The Citadel, he left to prepare for the examinations at Millard’s in Washington, D. C. Here he met and made friends with many of those who were to be his classmates. On July first of 1939 the rest of us first met Benny at Usmay, where he was almost immediately appointed No. 1 of the first squad of the 6th New Cadet Company, a position that called for some previous training, in the days of the old drill.</p>
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Benny was undisputed King of the Last Sections, and academics shadowed what otherwise might have been a famous athletic career. Football was his sport, and he won his numerals on the Plebe squad, but his continuing series of difficulties with academics forced him to drop out until First Class year, when he was once again on the Squad. Track was the same story—he was an active member of the plebe squad, dropped out for two years, and was once again on the squad as a First Classman. But trouble with academics never stopped Benny from enjoying himself, and when the <em>Howitzer</em> called Ben the “Idol of South Carolina Womanhood”, there was a definite reason. The Job as Hop Manager followed naturally from the combination of youthful enthusiasm and handsomeness that was his.</p>
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One thing marred his happiness in January 1943 when we started our careers as officers; the last vacancy left to him for choice of branch was not in his beloved Infantry. As was natural for a man with Ben’s ability in athletics, he wanted to become a leader of men in a branch that would require physical stamina and courage. And after years ot preparation for a career as an Infantryman, he finally found himself in another branch. Sad as Willis was at finding himself outside the Infantry, his enthusiasm never waned, and by 1944 he had managed to transfer into the doughboys. In the spring he arrived in England, and was assigned to a replacement pool as an Infantry officer. In April of that year, shortly before D-Day, he was personally requested and finally assigned to the 8th Infantry Regiment of the 4th Infantry Division, destined to play such an important part in the then forthcoming action in Normandy and France. Every step took him closer to the job for which he had trained—leading men in combat. His initial assignment as Liaison Officer lasted only until the initial phase in Normandy. After repeated requests for assignment to a line company, Ben was finally sent to F Company of the 8th Infantry, the company he was commanding when he was killed.</p>
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Willis soon proved himself to be a fine leader, with the complete devotion of his men and officers. In every action he showed the same lack of concern for himself which had characterized his performance in sports at West Point. For gallantry in action near Pierres, France on July 15, 1944 he received the Silver Star. For later action near St. Lo, France on July 24, 1944 he was awarded the Bronze Star for valor. Always there appeared his same lack of concern tor danger. On one occasion the Battalion Commander was amazed to see Willis’ company engaged in some sort of practice maneuver when close to the enemy. When called over the telephone, Willis simply stated that inasmuch as he had found no enemy, he thought that his company might as well benefit by rehearsing the part they were to play in the forthcoming action. None of his commanders ever forgot that—the unconcern of Willis for the proximity of the enemy.</p>
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On the 7th of September 1944 the 4th Division had advanced across France and into Belgium. Two companies of the 2nd Battalion had passed through the town of Pallseul, a road center for both the retreating Germans and the advancing Americans. As F Company arrived in the town, the Germans launched a counterattack with infantry, artillery fire, and armored vehicles. Two lone rounds of artillery heralded this attack, whistling into the center of the town. At the time Benny had been on a reconnaissance by himself at the forward edge of the town and was returning to his company which was on the other edge. The first shell into the town might have been intended for him personally, so close did it land. Benny was killed instantly. When his officers and aid men saw that he had been hit they immediately rushed to him, only to find that he had never known what had happened.</p>
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What happened then is best described by his Battalion Commander who said: “As word of Lt. Mills’ death spread throughout his company, every man was stricken with grief. So great was the love for Lt. Mills that the officers and senior non-coms had great difficulty in preventing the men from becoming reckless in their desire for revenge. Willis had been with his men through so many dangerous spots that it was almost impossible for them to believe he was actually gone”. Another letter to Ben’s father said, “I would like to say once more that every officer and enlisted man in the battalion loved and admired Lt. Mills and grieved with you over his death. My deepest sympathy goes out to you and your family.” Another letter revealed that same love for Benny exhibited by his men, “I would like to say that Lt. Mills was in every way a splendid officer and gentleman. He was liked and admired by officers and men alike. The men of Company F practically worshipped him, and when word got around that he had been killed they were so angry that they were almost uncontrollable. A short time before his death I had recommended Lt. Mills for Captain”</p>
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Although Benny was dead, his desire for combat and his will to close with the enemy continued to inspire his company for long after. Ben’s officers say that it was a sad company which passed through the town and on beyond after the enemy. Although Willis had been covered, the Belgian civilians had further placed flowers all around him. But even without the flowers, there was no mistaking to his men where he lay, and each soldier saluted as he passed the spot where his commander rested. Thomason’s book on Jeb Stuart well describes their feeling: “But with Pelham, there passed from the army something youthful and golden. They would have no more like him. </p>
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<em>—W. A. Knowiton</em></p>
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