As we observe Veterans Day here in America
the Beautiful, the home of the brave, we pause to give thanks to the Lord life
and liberty for America, "a city built upon a hill". Brave men and women of
America have given their lives, the ultimate sacrifice, in defending freedom
around the corner and around the globe. Brave Americans have given their lives
in standing against human oppression, human tyranny, and blatant injustice,
defending the the defenseless. They are, by the thousands, deployed around the
world even today, standing for freedom and peace. May their breed
increase.
Out
of World War II have come innumerable stories and testimonies of great bravery and chivalry. Over
the years I have met some of the men who served in World War II, who are named
aptly as the "Greatest Generation". Where we are at present I go to visit some
of the men who gather for lunch Monday through Friday. I get to talk these men
of valor. Some of them have shared with me stories of great courage and
ultimate sacrifice.
Many of
you know the story of the courage shown by four chaplains during World War II.
It is written, "Greater love hath no man than this,
that a man lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). it was the evening of February 2, 1943, and
the U.S. Dorchester was crowded to capacity, carrying 902 service men, merchant
seamen and civilian workers. Once a luxury coastal liner, the 5,649-ton vessel
had been converted into an Army transport ship. The Dorchester, one of three
ships in the SG-19 convoy, was moving steadily across the icy waters from
Newfoundland toward an American base in Greenland. The SG-19 was escorted by
Coast Guard Cutters Tampa, Escanaba and Comanche. Hans J. Danielsen, the ship’s captain,
was concerned and cautious. Earlier the Tampa had detected a submarine with its
sonar. Danielsen knew he was in dangerous waters even before he got some
alarming information. German U-boats were constantly prowling these vital sea
lanes, and several ships had already been blasted and sunk.
The Dorchester
was now only 150 miles from its destination, but the captain ordered the men to
sleep in their clothing and keep life jackets on. Many soldiers sleeping deep
in the ship’s hold disregarded the order because of the engine’s heat. Others
ignored it because the life jackets were uncomfortable.
On Feb. 3, at 12:55 a.m., a periscope broke the
chilly Atlantic waters. Through the cross hairs, an officer aboard the German
submarine U-223 spotted the
Dorchester.
A German submarine U-223 approached the convoy on the surface, and after identifying and targeting the ship, the captain gave orders to fire the torpedoes, a fan of three were fired. The one that hit was decisive–and deadly–striking the starboard side, amid ship, far below the water line. Captain Danielsen, alerted that the Dorchester was taking water rapidly and sinking, gave the order to abandon ship.v In less than 20 minutes, the Dorchester would slip beneath the Atlantic’s icy waters. Tragically, the hit had knocked out power and radio contact with the three escort ships. The CGC Comanche, however, saw the flash of the explosion. It responded and then rescued 97 survivors. The CGC Escanaba circled the Dorchester, rescuing an additional 132 survivors. The third cutter, CGC Tampa, continued on, escorting the remaining two ships. Aboard the Dorchester, panic and chaos had set in. The blast had killed scores of men, and many more were seriously wounded. Others, stunned by the explosion were groping in the darkness. Those sleeping without clothing rushed topside where they were confronted first by a blast of icy Arctic air and then by the knowledge that death awaited. Men jumped from the ship into lifeboats, over-crowding them to the point of capsizing, according to eyewitnesses. Other rafts, tossed into the Atlantic, drifted away before soldiers could get in them.
Through the
pandemonium, according to those present, four Army chaplains brought hope in
despair and light in darkness. Those chaplains were Lt. George L. Fox,
Methodist; Lt. Alexander D. Goode, Jewish; Lt. John P. Washington, Roman
Catholic; and Lt. Clark V. Poling, Dutch Reformed. Quickly and quietly, the four
chaplains spread out among the soldiers. There they tried to calm the
frightened, tend the wounded and guide the disoriented toward safety.
“Witnesses of that terrible night remember hearing
the four men offer prayers for the dying and encouragement for those who would
live,” says Wyatt R. Fox, son of Reverend Fox. One witness, Private William B.
Bednar, found himself floating in oil-smeared water surrounded by dead bodies
and debris. “I could hear men crying, pleading, praying,” Bednar recalls. “I
could also hear the chaplains preaching courage. Their voices were the only
thing that kept me going.”
Another sailor,
Petty Officer John J. Mahoney, tried to reenter his cabin but Rabbi Goode
stopped him. Mahoney, concerned about the cold Arctic air, explained he had
forgotten his gloves. “Never mind,” Goode responded. “I have two pairs.”
The rabbi then gave the petty officer his own gloves. In retrospect, Mahoney
realized that Rabbi Goode was not conveniently carrying two pairs of gloves, and
that the rabbi had decided not to leave the Dorchester.
By this time,
most of the men were topside, and the chaplains opened a storage locker and
began distributing life jackets. It was then that Engineer Grady Clark
witnessed an astonishing sight. When there were no more life jackets in the storage
room, the chaplains removed theirs and gave them to four frightened young men.
“It was
the finest thing I have seen or hope to see this side of heaven,” said John
Ladd, another survivor who saw the chaplains’ selfless act.
Ladd’s
response is understandable. The altruistic action of the four chaplains
constitutes one of the purest spiritual and ethical acts a person can make.
When giving their life jackets, Rabbi Goode did not call out for a Jew; Father
Washington did not call out for a Catholic; nor did the Reverends Fox and Poling
call out for a Protestant. They simply gave their life jackets to the next man
in line.
As the ship went down, survivors in nearby rafts could see the four
chaplains–arms linked and braced against the slanting deck. Their voices could
also be heard offering prayers. Of the 902 men aboard the U.S.A.T. Dorchester, 672
died, leaving 230 survivors. When the news reached American shores, the nation
was stunned by the magnitude of the tragedy and heroic conduct of the four
chaplains. “Valor is a gift,” Carl Sandburg once said. “Those
having it never know for sure whether they have it until the test comes.”
That night Reverend
Fox, Rabbi Goode, Reverend Poling and Father Washington passed life’s ultimate
test. In doing so, they became an enduring example of extraordinary faith,
courage and selflessness.
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