Top Photo: El Paso-born Lorenzo Macias (left) of Company E, 141st Infantry Regiment, poses with a fellow soldier. The National WWII Museum, Gift in Memory of Lorenzo Macias and Rosa Blanca Macias Van Sweringen, 2022.195.DA.9.

Under a darkening winter sky on January 20, 1944, the men of Company E, 141st Infantry Regiment, braced themselves for an ill-fated mission. They had orders to cross Italy’s Rapido River as part of the 36th Infantry Division’s assault on a heavily fortified German position. On the other side of the icy torrent awaited barbed wire, mines, mud, and misery—and, beyond that, two battalions of Germany’s well-entrenched 15th Panzergrenadier Division, poised to unleash a devastating barrage of artillery, mortar, and machine gun fire.

To this point, soldiers in Company E had formed a close-knit group, bonded by shared heritage and a fierce commitment to proving their worth. Most of them were first-generation Mexican Americans from El Paso, Texas, and had grown up in the same neighborhoods and attended the same schools. Theirs was a brotherhood that began long before they arrived on the battlefields of Europe, and combat only strengthened their existing bonds. Beginning with the invasion of the European mainland at Salerno, the company’s battle-hardened veterans had fought together with distinction across the rugged and unforgiving landscape of central Italy, but nothing could have prepared them for the disaster at the Rapido. 

General Fred L. Walker, commander of the 36th Infantry Division, anticipated a grim outcome. He wrote that day in his diary, “We might succeed, but I do not know how we can.” Walker’s bleak assessment reflected the near-impossible task ahead, and his uncertainty was not misplaced. Within 48 hours, the assault devolved into a nightmare: over 2,000 soldiers were killed, wounded, or captured in what would later be described as one of the war’s greatest strategic blunders.

The Rapido’s bloody toll shattered Company E’s distinction as a uniquely Mexican American unit. A roll call on January 23, 1944, counted just 27 enlisted men; no officers were left standing. With so many men lost, the remnants of the company merged with another to form a complete fighting force while replacements soon filtered in to replenish its ranks. The 141st Infantry Regiment’s fighting in Europe was far from over, but Company E—as it had been—was all but gone. 

The losses at the Rapido were not the first to cut deeply into the company. Just weeks earlier, in another costly chapter of the Italian Campaign, Company E had suffered heavy casualties near the small town of San Pietro. Among the fallen was Private First Class Lorenzo Macias, who had served with the former Texas National Guard unit since it was federalized on November 25, 1940. From the early days of training at Camp Bowie, Texas, Macias stood shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Hispanic soldiers. Together they drilled endlessly, endured months of maneuvers, marched through the scorching sands of North Africa, and faced a deadly enemy at Salerno. Macias had shared every hardship and every battle—until San Pietro, where his journey with Company E ended on December 23, 1943. His death marked the close of a story that began in his childhood, one forever tied to the origins and legacy of Company E. 

The youngest of 11 children, Macias was just three years old when the Texas National Guard embarked on an experiment that would shape the fate of many young Latino boys like him. It was a bold initiative in the wake of World War I to harness the fighting spirit of a marginalized border community and promote assimilation through service. With El Paso’s predominantly Hispanic population in the early 1920s, regimental commander Colonel Will Jackson envisioned the organization of this outfit as an opportunity to “educate, train and Americanize  … the Spanish-American youth of El Paso.” 

To Jackson and others like him, “Americanizing” the youth of El Paso largely meant integrating them more fully into a civic and national identity often denied to them by broader society. Despite their legal status as US citizens, Hispanic Americans faced systemic barriers like segregated schools, limited job opportunities, and social stigma. Jackson likely believed that bringing young Mexican Americans into the Texas National Guard would instill a sense of loyalty and discipline associated with traditional American values, but this perspective ignored the fact that these young men were already Americans with their own cultural heritage. The military’s approach, then, was less about granting new rights and more about reshaping identity in a way that aligned with a narrow vision of what it meant to be “American.” Thus, Company E was formed and its enlisted ranks filled entirely with Hispanic soldiers. 

Company E received federal recognition on November 21, 1923. Almost immediately, its members demonstrated exceptional capabilities. The company was among the first in the regiment to qualify 100 percent of its personnel in marksmanship, and the company rifle team won the regimental championship for eight consecutive years. Those who joined Company E in the years right before America’s entry into World War II had a reputation to uphold.

The official roster of Company E, 141st Infantry recorded in October 1941 at Camp Bowie, Texas. Lorenzo Macias was a Private at the time. The National WWII Museum, Gift in Memory of Lorenzo Macias and Rosa Blanca Macias Van Sweringen, 2022.195.DA.7.

The company’s journey from El Paso to the shores and hills of Italy began in earnest in April 1943, when the 36th Infantry Division set sail for North Africa. Out on the vast Atlantic, the musically inclined Macias provided entertainment on his guitar, just as he liked to do back home. After the 36th arrived in French North Africa, its soldiers (commonly called “T-Patchers” on account of their shoulder sleeve insignia) trained at Arzew and Rabat. Months of rigorous training in the harsh desert conditions steeled the untested soldiers for the tough fights ahead. 

Their first taste of combat was in the early morning hours of September 9, 1943. The 141st Infantry Regiment was among the first American units to land on the European continent during the war, and its front-line troops learned firsthand what it meant to assault a prepared and entrenched enemy. It was on the beaches near Paestum that Company E first experienced the brutal nature of the Italian Campaign—a war of attrition marked by close-quarters combat, rugged and sometimes impassable terrain, and a resilient opponent determined to defend every inch of ground.  

Despite the overwhelming odds, Company E distinguished itself in battle, playing a significant role in protecting the beachhead against enemy attacks. The unit suffered heavy casualties, but the spirit that bound its members as brothers, formed on the streets of El Paso, held firm. When the fighting at Salerno came to an end, the troops of the 141st Infantry were relieved for a much-needed respite. That rest proved critical for the fighting soon to come. 

During the unit’s downtime, Macias wrote to his sister, Rosa Blanca Macias (nicknamed “Chita”). She had been the first in the Macias family to attend college, and during the war, she served as a Lieutenant in the US Army Nurse Corps, stationed at Brooke General Hospital at Fort Sam Houston in Texas. Rosa had also been the first in the family to write to Macias once he arrived overseas, and the two corresponded while Macias fought in Italy. In an October letter, while bivouacked below Altavilla near the Sele River, Macias jokes with Rosa that he could hardly picture her in coveralls or believe that she could pitch a tent. “Keep it up sis,” he quips, “you might need it one of these days.” Five days after sending the letter, Macias and Company E were trucked up to an area just northwest of Naples where they continued training in preparation for their next big assignment. 

By mid–November 1943, Company E found itself once again in the thick of battle, this time near a small Italian village called San Pietro Infine. The month-long deadlock that unfolded was part of a larger Allied effort to break through the German Winter Line, a series of fortified and strongly defended positions stretching across the Italian Peninsula. Beyond San Pietro lay the Liri Valley and the shortest route to Rome, making it a high-priority target. However, the terrain surrounding the village made any operation in the area exceedingly complicated—steep mountains, narrow valleys, and rock-strewn fields offered little cover from German artillery and machine gun fire. 

After several weeks of heavy fighting, the 36th finally overcame the German defenses. In the immediate aftermath of the fierce fighting at San Pietro, which virtually leveled the village, Company E—along with the rest of the 2nd Battalion—was ordered to hold a precarious position just southeast of Morello Hill, between the smoldering ruins of San Pietro and the town of San Vittore. They were tasked with a series of perilous patrol, contact, and counterattack missions to probe German defenses and hold the tenuous Allied line. It was during one of these missions, on December 23, 1943, that Private First Class Lorenzo Macias met his end.