US AIRBORNE

Reinhold “Ron” William Bonnell was born on May 20, 1923, in Michigan and was killed in action during the capture of Hill 30 in Normandy on June 15, 1944.

He was the son of William Bonnell, a farmer who served in World War I, and Lois I. Bonnell.

The family had three children; Ron had two sisters, Adeline and Helene.

Reinhold Bonnell was drafted on February 10, 1943. He volunteered for the paratroopers and was assigned to Company B of the 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment as a Private. Ron was a close friend of Howard Huebner. They met at a bus stop. Here is the story Howard tells of Ron’s last hours:

“In the U.S. Army, in the 507th PIR, we were stationed in Alliance, Nebraska. I spent two weeks in the Black Hills in South Dakota near Deadwood. When we returned from camp, we were given two weeks of leave. This was in October 1943.

I lived in Saginaw, Michigan. I took the train from Nebraska to Detroit, Michigan. While waiting for a bus to Saginaw, I met a paratrooper, Reinhold Bonnell from Hemlock, Michigan. We traveled together and had some good days during our leave. Unfortunately, we had to return to camp on October 15, the day of Michigan's pheasant hunting season opener. Well, Ron and I opened the season a day early, on the 14th. We got two birds, the limit. When we returned to Camp Alliance in Nebraska, we were ordered to pack our things and be ready to leave. It took several weeks before we arrived in New York. I got to visit New York and the Empire State Building. We took the ferry across the Hudson River. A buddy had lived in the Bronx before.

During the Atlantic crossing, my friend Ron (nicknamed ‘Red’) told me he had a girlfriend who had given him a wristwatch and that if he were killed and I found his body, I should take the watch and send it to her. We landed in Ireland and were stationed at Port Rush. We spent Christmas there. I cut a branch from a tree and decorated it with foil from a cigarette pack and ‘cans,’ as you’d call them. It wasn’t too bad; it was Christmas.

When we left Ireland, we went to Nottingham, England, where we trained until June 6, 1944, D-Day. It was the day we’d all been waiting for; we were there for that reason, that’s what we had trained for. We both jumped, but I would never see Ron again until June 15, a day I’ll never forget.

When I returned to my company, I was ordered to join Company B to replace a gunner near Amfreville. I knew that Ron was also a machine gunner. I was a machine gunner in Company C, so why was I being sent to Company B? When I arrived at the German foxhole where the gunner was, Ron was in a corner, a shrapnel fragment had struck his face, opening his skull to his throat! I tried to take his watch, but I couldn’t do it! I crossed his arms and said, ‘God bless you.’

Ron Bonnell is buried somewhere in Michigan.