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Ludwig Kubish worked on a farm.

He volunteered for the Army of the United States in Hartford, Connecticut on 27 January 1942.

Cpl Kubish died as the result of an accidental gunshot wound to the abdomen. Apparantly a soldier was fooling around, pointing his weapon at others in the tent. Cpl Kubish ordered him to stop doing it, at which the soldier replied "but it is not loaded" and pointed it at him. The weapon discharged.

He was awarded the Silver Star Medal for gallantry in action on 19 September 1944. The citation cited: Pvt Kubish, Assistant Squad Leader, was a member of a force of two platoons advancing into enemy territory to establish a main line of resistance. During the advance the force was pinned down by intense machine gun and small arms fire. After about a 45 minute fire fight, the platoons were still unable to advance. Pvt Kubish, with complete disregard for his own personal safety, advanced approximately 50 yards across an open field and attacked the enemy strongpoint. Armed with a Thompson Sub-Machine Gun and a Gammon Grenade, Pvt Kubish succeeded in killing four of the Germans, causing the rest of the enemy group to surrender, thus enabling the platoon to advance and complete their mission.

The following story was provided by the nephew James E. Osowiecki:

The Man I Never Met by James M. Osowiecki.
I know how these things go, I know what to expect, I don't know how it will play out. I've seen the photos, how handsome he was. I've heard the stories, an extremely gifted athlete, playing shortshop shoeless, always giving 110% for his team. Fun loving and hard working, which seems to run in the family. Still, I'm a little nervous. We get to section A, find row number 13, that's my birth date, the tension mounts as we work our way over to number 68. Passing number 58, also my age, I feel the strength in my legs waning. Reaching number 63, my eyes are welling so much, I can no longer read the numbers, just five more places. I count along, stop, turn to face number 68. I can barely stand. I can't speak. I am trying to say; "I found you". That doesn't make sense, he has been here 68 years. I dry my eyes enough to confirm I am standing at the right one of the 5,255 white marble crosses here. The etching on this cross spells out "Ludwig Kubish." I am finally able to get out, "Here he is, Uncle Luddie." I am so overcome by emotion, try as I might, I still can't speak. I'm making one hell of a first impression. I have so many things to say and a multitude of questions. He was just twenty-two years old. He was awarded the Purple Heart for being wounded, the Silver Star for Bravery, The Dutch Bronze Lion for Bravery Above and Beyond the Call of Duty, and for the ultimate sacrifice, a White Marble Cross. This quest of mine, began in 1986, when my Uncle Joseph Kubish, said that one of his regrets in life was that he hadn't been to his brothers grave. That regret became mine. My eldest son, Matthew James Osowiecki, put it all together and made it happen, twenty-six years later. Together we went to the Epinal American Cemetery in eastern France, where we located my mother's little brother.

He was first buried at the Temporary American Military Cemetery of Champigneul, France.