Captured and Freed

Pfc. Stuart S. Stryker — 513th Parachute Infantry Regiment.

On March 24, 1945, during Operation Varsity, Stryker charged a fortified German position under intense fire, diverting enemy attention and helping free captured Americans, including members of a downed bomber crew. He was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor for his extraordinary courage.

German soldiers emerged cautiously from the trees. Weapons raised. Voices sharp and urgent. Orders barked in a language the crew only partially understood.

The survivors of Easy were gathered together, separated from the wreckage that still smoldered behind them. Elmer Milchak’s body had already been removed from the aircraft. The rest of the crew stood in shock—some bleeding, some numb, all exhausted. They were prisoners now.

They were marched toward a nearby farmhouse, guarded closely, the ground still dangerous beneath their feet. Around them, Operation Varsity was unfolding in full force. Paratroopers fought from hedgerows and ditches. Gliders burned in the fields. Tracer fire snapped through the air without warning. This was not a quiet capture—it was happening in the middle of an invasion.

Inside the farmhouse, confusion reigned. German soldiers moved in and out, shouting reports, firing occasionally at aircraft overhead. The Americans were searched, questioned, guarded—but nothing about the moment felt secure. The war itself seemed to be breaking apart around everyone inside those walls.

Then came voices.

English.

Shouts from outside. Sharp. Urgent. Close.

Gunfire erupted again—this time louder, closer, and sustained. Bullets tore into the farmhouse. A German position nearby drew heavy fire as paratroopers pressed in from multiple directions. One soldier in particular, Pfc. Stuart S. Stryker of the 513th Parachute Infantry Regiment, charged a fortified position under intense enemy fire, drawing the Germans’ attention to himself. His actions changed everything.

By attacking alone and without hesitation, Stryker disrupted the enemy defense, allowing his fellow paratroopers to overrun the position. His actions diverted enemy fire and helped free the captured Americans, the Hummel crew, taken prisoner near the wreckage of their shattered bomber.

Moments later, the farmhouse doors burst open.

American paratroopers stormed in, weapons raised, adrenaline high. The German guards scattered or surrendered. In a matter of moments, the balance shifted completely. The crew of Easy, was free, but not safe yet.

Hollis Powell would later recall crouching beneath a German half-track as bullets snapped overhead, praying to be pulled out of the chaos. He had survived flak, fighters, and a crash landing—but this kind of fighting was different. This was close. Personal. Unpredictable.

Around them, airborne troops moved with confidence, even humor—smoking, joking, pressing forward as if this were just another mile of marching. Somewhere nearby, a sniper still fired sporadically, a reminder that nothing was truly secure yet.

The crew was escorted to safety behind Allied lines. Medical attention came quickly. Questions followed. Names were written down. Reports began to form. Only later would the full scope of the day’s losses become clear.

Elmer Milchak, killed by sniper fire as he escaped the wreckage.

Bernard Knudson, lost after bailing out over the drop zone.

James Deaton, who fell from the aircraft during the chaos of the hit and descent.

But in that moment, one truth stood above all others:

The remaining six were alive. And they had been spared—again.

2nd Lt. John R. Hummel Jr. (Pilot)

2nd Lt. James E. Reynolds (Copilot)

Sgt. Ellis H. Morse (Nose Gunner)

Sgt. Herbert H. Finney (Engineer)

Pvt. Paul E. Keagle (Waist Gunner)

Sgt. Hollis Powell (Tail Gunner)

Operation Varsity would go on to be remembered as a success. The Rhine was crossed. Germany’s final defenses cracked. Pfc. Stuart S. Stryker would be posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor for his gallantry that day—his courage saving lives he would never meet.

For the men of the Hummel crew, the war would never again be measured in territory gained or objectives achieved.

It would be measured in moments like this—where death stood close enough to touch, and freedom arrived without warning.

For readers who want a deeper, more personal account of this mission and its aftermath, the story is explored in greater detail in my novel, Shielding the Fall, inspired by the true events of March 24, 1945.