December 18, 1946 Dear Mrs. Lopez, It is always the least pleasant responsibility of commanding officers to inform the next of kin of the passing of their cherished sons. I have been asked by Lieutenant Barnes, our platoon commander, to send you this letter, because I was the one whose life it was that Paul died saving. Mrs. Lopez, I am confident in telling you that in all my years in the Army, I have never had the honor of serving with as brave a soldier as your son. It has taken me two years to write this to you, because I did not want the government to hide your son's gallantry, and the circumstances of his death from you, and your family. On the night he was killed, we were assigned as a forward element in a village North East of the city of Bastogne. All we had to do was hold until daylight, when more troops would be brought up to relieve us. We were dug in, but their artillery opened up, and left us hiding in the rubble. Moments later, enemy tanks rolled into the town square, with the infantry close behind. Our defense of this village was short, but determined. I was wounded early, but Paul dragged me into one of the buildings. The others in his squad, those that were left, joined him, as they set up the machine gun. The last thing I remember before I blacked out was seeing the grenade come through the doorway. I saw your beloved Paul throw his body on the grenade to shield his comrades from the shrapnel. It was the last thing I saw before I awoke again in the hospital. I am so sorry for your loss, but I didn't want his death to be a mystery to those who would take pride in his courage. My debt to him can never be repaid. If it is not too much trouble, I would like to know where he was buried so that I may visit, and pay my respects. Sincerely, Sergeant Holland Reeves U.S.A. Retired