You’ve probably heard the name "Bragg" a thousand times if you follow military news or live anywhere near North Carolina. For decades, it was tied to a Confederate general that most historians agree was, frankly, not a very good leader. Then, in a whirlwind of renaming commissions, it became Fort Liberty. But as of 2025, the signs are changing again. The name is back, but the man behind it is entirely different. So, who was Roland Bragg, and why did the Department of Defense decide he was the right person to represent the "Center of the Military Universe"?
Most people expected a high-ranking general or a Medal of Honor recipient to take the slot. Instead, we got a guy from Maine who spent his post-war years moving houses and running a sawmill. He wasn't a career officer. He was a Private First Class.
The Wild Escape in a Stolen Ambulance
Roland Leon Bragg didn’t start his life looking for glory. Born in Sabattus, Maine, in 1923, he grew up during the height of the Great Depression. He spent his childhood peddling vegetables from the family farm just to help keep things afloat. By the time 1943 rolled around, he was 23 and headed for the Army.
He ended up in the 513th Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 17th Airborne Division. These were the "Golden Talons." They were tough, jump-qualified, and eventually found themselves in the middle of the frozen hell known as the Battle of the Bulge.
It was January 7, 1945. The snow was deep, and the fighting near Bastogne was brutal. Bragg was wounded and captured by German forces along with four other paratroopers. Usually, that’s where the story ends—a POW camp or worse. But this is where things get kind of unbelievable.
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A Masonic Connection
According to accounts from his family and military records, one of the German guards noticed something about Bragg. They were both Masons. In an extraordinary moment of shared humanity (or perhaps just war-weariness), the guard basically told Bragg: "I can't just let you go, but if you knock me out and make it look like a struggle, you can try to run."
Bragg didn't hesitate. He clocked the guard, grabbed a German uniform to blend in, and "liberated" a nearby German ambulance. He loaded his wounded buddies into the back and floored it.
The drive was twenty miles of pure chaos. He was being shot at by Germans who realized he was a thief and by Americans who thought he was a German. One prisoner in the vehicle was killed by the incoming fire, but Bragg kept driving. He eventually reached an Allied hospital in Belgium. For decades after, he lived with the crushing weight of believing he was the only one who made it out alive. He didn't find out until much later in life that at least one man he saved, John Martz, had actually survived.
Life After the Uniform: The House Mover of Nobleboro
When the war ended, Bragg didn't stick around for a military career. He went back to Maine. He married Barbara Picinich in 1946—her dad was actually Val Picinich, a Major League catcher—and they settled in Nobleboro.
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Honestly, his civilian life was just as interesting in a "small-town legend" kind of way. He started Nobleboro Building Movers. If you had a 60-ton house or an old church that needed to be five miles down the road, Roland was your guy.
There's a famous story in Maine about a house he moved that was so infested with termites it literally started falling apart during the process. Most contractors would have walked away or sued. Not Bragg. He ended up rebuilding the house at a cost of about $180,000 but only charged the owner $1,500 because he felt bad about the situation. That was just the kind of guy he was.
A Pillar of the Community
He wasn't just a businessman; he was a "jack-of-all-trades" for the town.
- Served on the Nobleboro Select Board.
- Worked as a volunteer firefighter.
- Ran a portable sawmill after "retiring" in 1984.
- Donated the land that became the local ball field and boat launch.
He was a quiet man. His daughter, Diane Watts, says he rarely spoke about the war. He struggled with what we now recognize as PTSD, often keeping his medals—the Silver Star and the Purple Heart—tucked away. He preferred talking about spring flowers (even though he was color-blind) or hosting lobster bakes for his three daughters.
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Why Roland Bragg Matters Now
The decision to rename the base after him wasn't without controversy. Some saw it as a "wink and a nod" to keep the Bragg name while technically following the rules about removing Confederate ties. Others see it as a long-overdue tribute to the "Everyman" soldier.
Typically, bases are named after generals. Fort Bragg (the original) was named for Braxton Bragg. By switching the honor to Pfc. Roland Bragg, the military made a massive symbolic shift. They moved from honoring the high-ranking leadership of a rebellion to honoring a frontline soldier who actually trained at that very base before heading to Europe.
It’s a "full circle" moment. A man who was a "toxic gas handler" and a paratrooper, who did the dirty work of war and then came home to move houses and serve his neighbors, is now the face of one of the most important military installations on earth.
He died of cancer in 1999 at the age of 75. He’s buried in a humble plot at Dunbar Cemetery in Nobleboro. He never knew he’d be the namesake of a massive Army base. He just knew he’d done his job.
Next Steps for History Buffs
If you're ever in Maine, the Nobleboro community still keeps much of his local history alive. You can visit the boat launch he donated or look up the old newspaper archives from the Bangor Daily News that detail his massive house-moving projects. For those interested in the military side, the XVIII Airborne Corps museum often features exhibits on the 17th Airborne's role in the Ardennes, providing more context on the "Golden Talons" and the brutal conditions Roland Bragg survived.