Serial Number 05908

His father BGen Robert L Denig
https://marines.togetherweserved.com/usmc/servlet/tws.webapp.WebApp?cmd=Profile&type=Person&ID=168870

The Fourth Marine Division invaded the tiny islands of Roi and Namur in the Kwajalein atoll, part of the Marshall Islands. For the vast majority of the First Battalion, 24th Marines, it was their first battle. For thirty-four of them, the battle would be the last thing they ever experienced in this world. A few hundred yards further, another platoon was having a very different experience with armored vehicles. The armor in question were the light tanks of Company B, 4th Tank Battalion; their commander, Captain James Denig, was at their head, in his M5A1 Stuart, named Hunter. The tankers were flush with success, having already navigated some difficult terrain and taken out several troublesome fortifications. Now they trundled down Narcissus Street, spoiling for another fight; the intersection of Narcissus and Sycamore Boulevard gave them the opportunity, and the tanks began to deploy. As Hunter swerved to avoid a fallen tree, it ran up over a tall stump and jerked to a halt, immobilized. A squad of Japanese troops appeared from nowhere and swarmed over the tank, pounding on its metal sides, trying to find an opening on the buttoned-up tank. PFC Howard Eugene Smith, a BAR gunner from Company A, had been trading shots with the Japanese infantry. To see them in the open, totally distracted by the helpless tank, was a boon Smith hadn’t thought possible; he turned his weapon on Hunter and the bullets that missed enemy bodies ricocheted harmlessly of the Stuart’s armor. Smith dropped four of the attackers before his magazine emptied and he stooped to reload. In those few seconds, the last surviving Imperial solder hauled himself onto Hunter‘s turret. He spotted a signaling port left open for semaphore communications. In the last few seconds of his life, this unknown soldier pulled out a grenade, struck it against his helmet, and dropped the missile into the opening just as a Marine bullet took his life. Captain James Denig may have had a split second to notice the sputtering object in his lap before it exploded. The blast set Hunter on fire. Smoke billowed from every crevice, and a frantic scramble and yelling could be heard above the din of battle as the surviving crew tried to escape the cramped confines of the tank. Their steel fortress had become a blazing deathtrap. Howard Smith dropped his BAR. Ducking incoming fire, he ran to the stricken tank, climbed aboard, and threw open the hatch. Seizing Denig by shoulders – the captain’s lower body had been shattered by the grenade – Smith hauled the unconscious tanker from the wreck and dragged him to cover. Back he went for assistant driver, Corporal William Taylor, and back again for the gunner, Corporal Ben Smith. The tank’s driver, unable to open his hatch, died in agony. The Marines carried the unconscious Captain Denig to a clearing to await medical help. One of the carriers was PFC Bob Williams; as he gently laid Denig down, the captain’s burned skin slid off into Williams’ hands. Retching, Williams turned away. Nothing could be done for Denig, who died shortly thereafter without regaining consciousness. There was no doubt that the quick thinking of Howard Smith had saved the lives of tank corporals Taylor and Ben Smith; his Navy Cross citation would later reflect as much.

Denig, James Livingston, Jr., Capt