Seventy-five years ago, Allied forces embarked upon what General Dwight D. Eisenhower called the “Great Crusade” to end World War II in Europe.  On the morning of June 6, 1944, neighborhoods across America were swept up in euphoria as news of Operation Overlord spread.   In Tonawanda, Mrs. Augusta Niland was extremely anxious over the fate of three sons she knew had been preparing for the invasion, but she drew some comfort from knowing that eldest son Edward, serving in Asia, was out of reach of the dangers in Normandy.  Later that morning she received a telegram from the War Department informing her that Edward had been reported missing on May 20 while on a mission over Burma. 

In the days that followed, many Western New Yorkers would receive the dreaded brown envelopes bearing messages beginning: “The Secretary of War directs me to express his deep regret that your son . . . has been reported missing in action . . .”  It brought the brutal knowledge that a loved one most likely would not be coming home and life would never be the same again.  Before a month has passed, Mrs. Niland would receive two more of the dreaded telegrams. She had sent four sons to serve their country.  Now only one remained. 

Over fifty years later the world would be introduced to that fourth son, Frederick “Fritz” Niland, when Tom Hanks went looking for him in Steven Spielberg’s epic film, “Saving Private Ryan.”  

Michael and Augusta (“Gussie”) Niland raised six children in Tonawanda’s Elmwood Park neighborhood.  Michael was a superintendent at the Buffalo Steel Company, within walking distance of their home, while Gussie ran the household.  Their first-born was daughter Clarissa, was born in 1910, followed in turn by Edward in 1912, Preston in 1915, Robert in 1919, Margaret in 1916 and the youngest, Frederick (“Fritz”), in 1920.  They schooled their family in traditions of their German heritage and Catholic faith.  Michael, whose nickname was “Bull,” supplemented those lessons to ensure an appreciation of the importance of service to one’s country, regaling the family (and anyone else he could get to listen) with tales of his adventures during the Spanish-American War when he had charged up San Juan Hill as one of Teddy Roosevelt’s Roughriders.

The four Niland boys attended Tonawanda High School and on completion enrolled in college: Preston at the University of Buffalo, and the other three at Canisius College.  A few blocks from their home, cousins Joseph and Thomas (“Tommy”) Niland were growing up on Adam Street in a family of 13 children.  The two boys also enrolled at Canisius.   

All six all shared a close friendship with yet another young man from Tonawanda, Warren “Skip” Muck—so named because, as a youngster, he skipped everywhere he went.   After graduating from Tonawanda High School in 1940 he took a job with Remington Rand Corp. in Tonawanda.

Concerned with possible involvement in the war with Germany, the United States initiated a national registration system in 1941 and began drafting young men for 12 months for training.  Preston Niland was drafted in March 1942 and assigned to the 22nd Infantry Regiment of the 4th Infantry Division.  He completed Officer Candidate School and was commissioned a 2nd Lieutenant.  When Robert was called, he volunteered for the 82nd Airborne Division, where he was assigned to D Company of the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment (PIR) and was given the rank of Sergeant.  That same March, Edward joined the Army Air Forces, serving as a radio operator and gunner on a B-25 Mitchell bomber with the rank of Technical Sergeant.  He was assigned to the 12th Bomb Group, first in North Africa and then in the Burma-India-China Theater.  Fritz volunteered for the 101st Airborne Division, where he held the rank of Sergeant in H Company of the 501st PIR.  In later years when questioned why none of them had served together, Gussie would explain: “I wouldn’t approve of that idea – why, look at the Sullivans. . .”

Cousin Tommy Niland also joined the 101st Airborne, and was assigned to the 327th Glider Infantry Regiment, where he gained the rank of Lieutenant.  Joe joined the 20th Armored Division and became a Sergeant.  When Skip Muck learned that his best friend Fritz was in the 101st Airborne he declared that he had to join him right away and enlisted in August 1942.  Muck would be a Sergeant in Company E of the 506th PIR, the unit that would later be profiled in the television series “Band of Brothers.”  He was one of the dozen characters featured in the series (portrayed by actor Richard Speight, Jr.).

Robert Niland (“Bob the Beast”) was the first of the boys to experience combat, participating in campaigns in North Africa, Sicily and Italy.  Except for Edward, all would end up in England by early 1944 to train for the Normandy invasion.   There was a break in their training during May and the boys arranged a reunion of sorts at a pub in London to exchange news and reminisce about growing up in Tonawanda.  Robert, Preston and Fritz were joined by Tommy Niland and Skip Muck.  (In some accounts, Don Malarkey, Joe Toye and others from Muck’s E Company were also present.)  Robert was grilled by his companions about what to expect from combat.  He told them that they should not try to be heroes (although the Germans would give them plenty of opportunities) but, when the time came, they should rely on common sense and their training.  After a late night, they went back to their units to prepare for the invasion.

Robert was dropped behind enemy lines during the night of June 5 and landed near the Normandy town of Sainte-Mère-Eglise.  The 505th PIR succeeded in their initial objective to take the town; however, a German counter-attack was expected imminently.  Robert’s unit was assigned to man a defensive perimeter at the town of Neuville-au-Plain.  Soon, two companies of German infantry, supported by armored fighting vehicles, attacked the American line.  After eight hours of ferocious fighting it became apparent that the defenses would be overwhelmed.  Those of Niland’s unit who were able to do so were ordered to withdraw but had to leave their wounded behind.  By one account, Robert and two others from the unit volunteered to cover the retreat and protect the wounded.   Robert set up a machine gun and fought gallantly, using up “several” boxes of ammunition until he was felled with a fatal head wound.  The others survived to be captured by German troops.  

Edward Niland’s son Preston (“Pete”) recounts a slightly different (and most likely correct) version, which he attributes to Jim Kelly, an Army medic in the unit and very close friend of Robert.  In that account, “after their unit moved out, Kelly decided to stay with the wounded soldiers.  Bob said, ‘if you’re staying, I’m staying.’”  After running out of ammunition, they had no choice but to leave and have the Germans take care of the wounded Americans.  Peering over a hedgerow to locate the Germans, “Uncle Bob” was shot in the head and fell dead on top of Kelly.

Lieutenant Preston Niland led his platoon ashore from a landing craft on Utah Beach at 6:00am on the morning of June 6.  Heavy German artillery and machine gun fire kept the Americans pinned down on the beach until a breakthrough was achieved later in the day.  Preston’s unit was tasked with attacking and disabling a German artillery emplacement just north of Utah.  The so-called Crisbecq Battery was targeted because it was believed that its guns were responsible for sinking the destroyer USS Corry at 5:30am, just before the landings began.  The assault was repulsed.   In the family’s account, Preston was going to the aid of a wounded soldier when he was wounded fatally.  The Allies did not take the Crisbecq Battery until nine days later, after the battery had run out of shells.

During the airborne assaults, many men were scattered far from their assigned drop zones.  Once on the ground, ad-hoc units were formed in the initial hours as groups of soldiers found each other in the darkness.  These ad-hoc units functioned with remarkable effectiveness (a testament to the rigorous airborne training) until the men could rejoin their assigned units.      

Fritz’s unit was assigned to Drop Zone “C”, just north of the hamlet of Hiesville, with the ultimate objective of securing the town of Carentan.  In the event, however, the plane in which he was transported was hit by ground fire and flew off course, with the result that he ended up landing in the town of Raffoville, some five miles southwest of Carentan.  With assistance from the French Resistance, he spent several days fighting his way to his unit through terrain controlled by German forces.  On the way he stormed a hill (identified as “Hill 30”) with grenades and dislodged a German machine gun emplacement.  The heroic feat earned him the Bronze Star.  He reached Carentan on June 12. 

At some point after rejoining his unit, and unaware of his brothers’ fate, Fritz wrote to his mother: “Dad’s Spanish-American War stories are going to have to take a back seat when I get home. . .”  

Some days later there was a lull in the fighting, and Fritz hitched a ride to the 82nd Airborne headquarters to visit his brother Robert.  When he got there, he was informed that Robert had been killed in action on D-Day.  He turned to the regimental chaplain of the 501st PIR, Fr. Francis Sampson, to take him to where his brother was buried.  A search of the first make-shift cemetery they visited near St. Mère Eglise came up empty.  At their next stop they were informed that there was a Niland buried there, but his first name was Preston.  Fr. Sampson tried to persuade Fritz that there must have been an error in marking the grave, but Fritz told him that no, Preston was also his brother.  Fr. Sampson took Fritz back to the divisional headquarters where they received the news that Edward had been reported missing back in May while on a mission in Burma.

Sampson immediately put in motion a request for Fritz to be withdrawn from the combat zone and returned to the States as the sole survivor of four brothers.  The United States did not adopt formal “sole survivor” policies until 1948; however, ever since the loss in 1942 of the five Sullivan brothers in the sinking of USS Juneau in the Pacific, the War Department policy was to consider compassionately any requests for the removal from a war zone of the sole survivor of multiple siblings.

In his several chronicles of the D-Day landings, historian Steven Ambrose recounts how Fr. Sampson drove Fritz to a plane near Utah Beach for a flight to London to begin his journey home.  Fr. Sampson gives much the same account in his memoir, Look Out Below.  Their accounts would appear to be inaccurate, however, as Fritz refused extraction and insisted on staying with his unit to continue fighting to avenge the loss of his brothers.

In fact, paperwork to authorize release was not completed until late summer.  Meanwhile Fritz remained in Normandy with his unit until early July, when the 505th PIR went back to England along with the rest of the 101st Airborne to rest and prepare for the next operation.  

While back in England, Chaplain Sampson again sought out Fritz and presented him with an order from General George C. Marshall directing him home.  Over his continuing objections, and under threat of arrest for disobeying orders, he was evacuated to the States and spent the remainder the war as a Military Policeman in New York City.  After his discharge he returned to Tonawanda where he resumed his studies at Canisius College.  He went on to earn a degree in Dentistry from Georgetown University and set up his own dental practice in Niagara Falls.  He died in 1983 at the age of 63.

On May 5, 1945 the Courier Express announced: “Tonawanda Flier Freed from Japs.”  The War Department had notified the Nilands that son Edward had been found alive and would soon be on his way home.

Edward had been on a mission with the 434th Squadron of the 12th Bomb Group when his plane was struck by anti-aircraft fire.  He bailed out and landed somewhere in the Burmese jungle.  His crew-mates were never heard from.  Injured when the plane was shot down or in the days that followed, he wandered through the jungle for about a week.  He came upon a small village where tribesmen turned him over to Japanese soldiers.  He spent just under a year as a prisoner-of-war in a Japanese camp where he underwent torture and was held in solitary confinement for six months in a space so small that he could not stand up.

One day, he was awakened by approaching gunfire.  British forces were fighting their way to Rangoon and were advancing on a village near the camp, but were unaware of the proximity of the prisoners.   Edward recounted that “the advancing British . . .were bombing and strafing [the village] to shreds.”  The Japanese moved the prisoners between the village and the advancing British to serve as human shields, but they found a friendly native – “a game kid” who “sneaked through the Jap-infested jungle to get word to the British.  Next day we were free men.”  When Edward was shipped home he weighed a mere 80 pounds, down from 170.

Despite lack of any word of Edward’s fate since the D-Day telegram, his father never abandoned all hope for him.  Interviewed in later years, Edward recounted a story from his father: “In a dream I saw Eddie’s plane crash and he stepped out and started walking away… ‘are you all right son’ he asked, and he replied, ‘I’ll be all right, dad.’”  

After returning home he lived in Tonawanda until his death in 1984, at the age of 72, after a career with the Postal Service.

Expecting to be flown into Normandy, Tommy Niland had been training in his assigned glider which would be towed to its designated landing zone.  However, shortly before the scheduled departure time, it was discovered that there were not enough tow planes for all the gliders.  As a result, his unit was reassigned to be transported by sea and he ended up wading ashore at Utah Beach on June 7.  He fought with the 101st Airborne in Operation Market Garden at Eindhoven, Holland, took part in the Battle of the Bulge and then fought into Germany where he assisted in the capture of Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest retreat.  

Don Rich, an enlisted man who served in Tommy’s unit, frequently mentions him in his memoir of the 101st’s trek into Germany, entitled Glider Infantryman. 

In December 1944, the Germans attempted a major counter-attack against Allied forces, who were forced back in the Ardennes Forest near the Belgium-Luxembourg border.  One of the key engagements in the ensuing “Battle of the Bulge” occurred around the Belgian town of Bastogne which the Germans had surrounded.   

Tommy Niland’s unit was positioned near the town of Marvie, through which German troops had to pass in order to make a break-through to Bastogne.  Tommy took charge of organizing a defensive perimeter, and skillfully placed infantry and artillery to create a field of fire which enabled his troops to hold off the Germans effectively.  During the action he was wounded in the elbow by a shell, and the attending medic thought an amputation would be required.  Niland ordered the corpsman to bind up the wound and stop the bleeding, then continued to lead his detachment until the attacking Germans were repulsed. He would later receive the Silver Star for his distinguished leadership.  Rich called him the “unsung hero” of Bastogne.

After returning home, he resumed his college career at Canisius.  Despite being hampered by his injury, he regained a spot on the basketball team.  Brother Joe commented “with his elbow so crooked, he’ll never be a good shot.  Tommy’s nerves took a beating [during the war].  But he’s coming back faster playing basketball than he was resting.”  In fact, Tom Niland changed his style of play to accommodate his injury and went on to star on the team he captained from 1945 to 1947. After graduating as president of the Class of 1947, he went on to LeMoyne College where he served as Athletic Director for 45 years, and for 27 years was the school’s first basketball coach.  He died in 2004 at the age of 83.

When Joe Niland went to war, he was a tank commander in the 20th Armored Division, which did not arrive in Europe until February 21, 1945, and eventually joined George Patton’s Third Army. The Division fought across France, Belgium and Germany, ending up in Austria, and supported infantry forces in the liberation of the Dachau concentration camp.  

After the war he resumed his studies and graduated from Canisius in 1946.  He coached the Canisius basketball team from 1948 to 1953, accumulating the school’s second-highest winning percentage.  He kept his hand in coaching and scouting while pursuing a career with a trucking company.  He was inducted into the Greater Buffalo Sports Hall of Fame and was a member of Canisius’ All Century Men’s Basketball Team.   He died in 2007 at the age of 89.

After his remarkable advance across France and Belgium through forbidding winter weather, General Patton’s Third Army tanks lifted the siege of Bastogne on December 26.  However, the area remained a vital point through which the Germans sought to advance.  German troops continued attacking the perimeter around Bastogne.  The 101st was ordered to hold the line.

On January 9, E (“Easy”) Company, 506th PIR fell back to an area known as Bois Jacques (“Jack’s Wood”) from positions overlooking the town of Foy.  Heavy German fire forced the men of Easy Company to take shelter.  Skip and his close friend, Joe Penkala, sheltered in a foxhole.  In the morning, the Germans commenced shelling the American position.  Muck and Penkala’s foxhole took a direct hit from a German shell.  When smoke from the impact cleared, all that was left of Warren Muck was a fragment of his uniform.  Skip’s remains were laid to rest in the Luxembourg American Cemetery in the town of Hamm.

The Niland family bore their losses quietly, reluctant to speak of those painful events.  Joe Niland told of a visit to Mike Cutt’s Saloon in the Tonawanda neighborhood one July 4th.  He and his pals were telling each other tales of how they had personally won the war.  Mike Niland came in, but he did not join in the tales of the recent war in which he had lost two sons.  Relaxing after a few beers, he redirected the conversation to his tale of how he had pulled Teddy Roosevelt up San Juan Hill to achieve victory!

Years after the war, Gussie Niland was heard to remark “if it wasn’t my boys it would have been somebody else’s.”  Edward’s son Pete echoed the sentiment when he observed “They were just regular kids.  They did what they had to do.”.

Robert and Preston Niland lie side-by-side in Graves 11 and 12, Plot F, Row 15 in the American Cemetery at Coleville-sur-Mer, overlooking Omaha Beach.  

In 2010, the “All Heroes Memorial” was dedicated on a spot in Niawanda Park, behind Tonawanda City Hall, overlooking the Niagara River.  Individual monuments honor the memory of the Niland Brothers and Warren Muck.  The memorial is dedicated to them and to others from Tonawanda who lost their lives in World War II and declares that “the sacrifices of all veterans were not in vain and . . . will never be forgotten.”  The location is significant because it is near the spot where Skip Muck came ashore after a daredevil nighttime swim across the Niagara River.  His best pal, Fritz Niland, watched over him during his swim in a borrowed rowboat.  The demonstration of bravado occurred while they were home on leave, shortly before they returned to their units (in Skip’s case, for the last time).

Steven Spielberg has had a life-long fascination with the Second World War. His father had fought in Burma, and Spielberg long sought an appropriate vehicle through which to honor his father and memorialize those who fought and died.  He achieved his goal with the release, in 1998, of the blockbuster “Saving Private Ryan.”  

In Spielberg’s film, the War Department discovers that two sons of an Iowa farm family were killed in the D-Day landings and that a third was killed in New Guinea.  Army Chief of Staff George C. Marshall orders that a fourth son, Private James Francis Ryan, fighting somewhere in Normandy, be located and sent home so that his mother does not lose all her sons.  Ranger Captain John Miller (Tom Hanks) is ordered to lead a squad to find and extract Private Ryan.  Although Miller dies in the effort, Ryan is successfully restored to his family.

The film, which earned five Oscars, is widely praised, and is considered by many critics to be one of the best war movies ever produced.  Singled out for particular praise is the opening 30-minute sequence which is undoubtedly one of the most realistic—and graphic—depictions of the frenzied and bloody horrors of combat.  Some, however, have criticized many factual errors in the depiction of D-Day events and a glaring omission to acknowledge the participation of other nations. 

Historian Stephen Ambrose mentions (but not quite accurately) the experiences of the Nilands in two volumes: Band of Brothers (1992) and D-Day June 6, 1944 (1994).  That appears to be the source from which the story for the film emerged.  According to family members, Ambrose did not contact the family while researching for his books but learned of the Niland story from Dan Malarkey.  

It was generally known in Hollywood that Steven Spielberg was hoping to find an appropriate script for his World War II opus.  The Niland story’s coming to his attention was serendipitous.  While taking a walk in a New Hampshire village, Hollywood screenwriter Robert Rodat, who was in the process of reading Ambrose’s D-Day, a gift from his wife, came upon a war memorial bearing the names of local war dead.  He was particularly struck by similar surnames suggesting multiple deaths in a single family.  He was reminded of the Niland episode in Ambrose’s account.  Rodat proposed their story as the basis for a script to producer Matt Gordon and was authorized to begin work.  The finished script was sent to Spielberg, who then realized that he had found the World War II story for which he had been searching.

During the production, Spielberg reached out to the Niland family and brought family members to Hollywood where they shared memories and memorabilia of the true story.  

Some have complained that the Spielberg film does not portray history fairly.  Those who do so forget that “Saving Private Ryan” is a good yarn—a mix of fact and fiction—while the story of the Nilands and Skip Muck is a true chronicle of heroes.