Stories of Faith and Courage From World War II (33 page)

O Lord of Hosts, stretch forth, we pray thee, thine almighty arm to strengthen and protect the soldiers of our country. Support them in the day of battle, and in the time of peace keep them safe from all evil; endue them with courage and loyalty; and grant that in all things they may serve without reproach; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

For the Navy

O eternal Lord God, who alone spreadest out the heavens, and rulest the raging of the sea; Vouchsafe to take into thy almighty and most gracious protection our country’s Navy, and all who serve therein. Preserve them from the dangers of the sea, and from the violence of the enemy; that they may be a safeguard unto the United States of America, and a security for such as pass on the seas upon their lawful occasions; that the inhabitants of our land may in peace and quietness serve thee our God, to the glory of thy Name; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

For World Peace

O Almighty God, who makest even the wrath of man to turn to thy praise; We beseech thee so to order and dispose the issue of this war that we may be brought through strife to a lasting peace, and that the nations of the world may be united in a firmer fellowship, for the promotion of thy glory and the good of all mankind; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

—Colossians 1:19–20

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UNE 11

Hanging Upside Down

Dear Mom, Dad, and Boogie,

Well I’ve been on my first combat mission and I’m telling you it was plenty jumpy all of the time. It got really interesting too. One of the bombs hung on the side of the bomb bay and wedged itself on the rack. The other bombs as they fell out hit it and wedged it tighter. The arming vane of the bomb was spinning around and the bomb was arming itself in the bomb bay… the Bombardier and I got on top of the bomb bay to see what we could do. I was the lighter in weight so I took off my parachute and jacket. I hung down into the bomb bay while he held me around the knees. I worked with both hands getting the bomb loose. I finally got it loose and let it drop out of the open bomb bay.
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This was the matter-of-fact way Robert Saxton informed his parents of his part in a drama high in the skies over Italy. For his actions the twenty-four-year-old airman was officially cited for heroism and awarded the Soldier’s Medal and the Air Medal.

Courage comes in many forms, and, fortunately, is not in short supply on the part of young people today. An amazing example is the story of my church’s twenty-six-year-old assistant rector, fresh out of seminary, in his first assignment. Recently, the leaders of the church unexpectedly called him to be the rector, responsible for every aspect of administering and shepherding this large, diverse congregation. His decision to accept such a promotion was not easy. He knew that his youthful inexperience and enthusiasm would have to contend with an older congregation and a long history of conservative tradition. In 2008 the Reverend Robert Sturdy prayerfully and courageously accepted this call and all the risks that go with it. Watching him handle his many challenges, I can almost picture him hanging upside down out of a bomb bay. The courage of one of the youngest Episcopal priests in church history has been an inspiration to his congregation and to a whole community.

For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for him, since you are going through the same struggle you saw I had, and now hear that I still have.

—Philippians 1:29–30

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UNE 12

How Would They Handle This?

George Graves was a corporal with the 504
^th
Parachute Infantry Regiment fighting in the hills of Italy. He wrote a lengthy letter to his father expressing a few rather negative feelings about the Italians’ fear and hatred of the Germans. He saw some civilians spitting on German prisoners and others actually threatening them with bodily harm. Even though he was fighting the same enemy, he did not understand this vindictiveness. In the same letter, however, he empathized with what many of these same civilians had to endure:

We have air raids here about every night, and I have been in those stuffy air raid shelters with crying women and children kneeling down and praying and wondering how our folks back at home would take this if they had to endure it. I am thankful that so far they haven’t had to.
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If you have ever wondered why Europeans might be so different from Americans, you might consider the fact that generations from practically every country in Europe have spent time in bomb shelters. I don’t know how this experience translates into social and political viewpoints later, but it is clearly an historical experience that Americans do not share.

On the personal level, differences in past experience also make it difficult for people to understand each other. Like most married couples, my wife and I have gone through a long process of learning about our respective family histories. We both now have an appreciation of each other’s painful experiences in the past that at times still dictate our attitudes and reactions as adults. This knowledge has helped us handle conflict without hurting each other. On any level, the more you understand someone else’s past experience, the better chance you’ll have of building a meaningful relationship.

The purposes of a man’s heart are deep waters, but a man of understanding draws them out.

—Proverbs 20:5

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UNE 13

I’ve Been Blessed

Kathy Walsh loved to sit at her father’s feet and listen to his stories. Tom Walsh had lived a hard life, growing up in an orphanage and scrounging for food. In spite of his hardships he always felt that “God was watching over,” and his thankfulness came through in his stories. His daughter’s favorite story was about World War II.
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Before going overseas, Tom spent time with one of his few living relatives, a cousin living in California. The cousin had a young daughter who was sick while he was there, and he spent days with her, nursing her back to health. He eventually reached Italy where he was assigned to an airbase near Naples. One evening the Germans bombed his base, and Tom was wounded severely in the head and neck. A rescue crew thought he was dead and actually placed him on a “death pile.”

In California, a young girl woke up screaming in the night. “Uncle Tom!” she shouted. “He’s all bloody, his head is covered with blood!” The mother of the little girl, Tom’s cousin, called the Red Cross, but was unable to get any information. She was convinced that something had happened to Tom, but she also believed that he had survived. She sent him a telegram, giving him assurance that he would be all right. Meanwhile, an alert medic had discovered that Tom was still alive and had gotten him to a hospital.

After hearing the story, Kathy asked her father, “Was it ESP? Do you believe in Extra-Sensory Perception, Dad?” He answered, “I believe God found a way to let my family know I was all right. The message to my cousin’s little girl was God’s way of watching over me. I’ve been blessed, you know!”
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Tom Walsh was a man of faith. He chose to see the events in his life in a positive light and as evidence of God’s protection. His faith saw him through his trials and was an incalculable blessing to him and to his daughter.

Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

—Hebrews 4:16

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UNE 14

They Did It without Complaining

The advance up the Italian peninsula was slow and grueling. Moving forward in the valleys was impossible as long as the enemy held the hills and mountains. Therefore, many battles raged at elevations above 4,000 feet, where winter conditions made the soldier’s lives almost unbearable. Keeping these men supplied with the basic necessities for staying alive and fighting was a nightmare in itself. Reminiscent of wars gone by, pack mules and horses were used to move supplies where vehicles couldn’t go. Even then, there was a point where the animals could climb no farther, and soldiers had to do the rest. On a typical night, a battalion fighting in the mountains needed eighty-five cans of water, one hundred cases of K rations, ten miles of telephone wire, twenty-five cases of ammunition, one hundred heavy mortar rounds, four cases of first-aid supplies, bags of mail, and countless other items.
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All this logistic activity took place at night, since most of it was under enemy observation and artillery fire. Guides were necessary along the route to keep the supply trains from getting lost in the dark. This duty fell, of necessity, on the combat soldiers. The men who shouldered this thankless task were an inspiration to one reporter:

Sickness and exhaustion overtook many… so they were sent back down the mountain under their own power to report to the medics there and then go to a rest camp. It took most of them the better part of a day to get two-thirds of the way down, so sore were their feet and so weary their muscles. And then when actually in sight of their haven of rest and peace they were stopped and pressed into guide service, because there just wasn’t anybody else to do it. So they stayed on the mountain-side for at least three additional days and nights… just lying miserably alongside the trail, shouting in the darkness to guide the mules. They had no blankets to keep them warm, no beds but the rocks. And they did it without complaining. The human spirit is an astounding thing.
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When they hurled insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.

—1 Peter 2:23

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UNE 15

My Mule

When he came out of the front lines for a brief rest, Richard Ternyey was recruited as a muleskinner. Mules had been found an effective way to move supplies in the rugged Italian mountains, usually at night. Ternyey soon met his mule, Jake. He and Jake had to deliver mortar ammunition to the front lines on a night so dark, “ You couldn’t see the hand in front of your face. ”
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After several hours of hard climbing they reached the forward dump and began unloading.

Suddenly German artillery shells started landing all around them, and everyone scattered in panic looking for holes or ruts to get away from the shrapnel. Ternyey described what happened then:

I started frantically searching in the darkness like a blind man for my mule. Everything was in turmoil, a lot of men screaming and yelling. I had no idea where I was. Finally, I found Jake. I didn’t have any idea which way to go to my base for fear that I may go the wrong way and be captured by the enemy. For some reason, I can’t explain, I thought maybe Jake will have the instinct of finding his way home. So I mounted him, gently patted him on the rump, and he took off. I was scared stiff and prayed that God Almighty will direct this mule back to home base. I finally reached my base safe and sound.
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There are times when we have to give up control. This soldier had little choice but to rely on his mule’s instinct. As we face our daily problems, however, we usually do have a choice, and most of us go to great lengths to keep control in our own hands. We are programmed early to “be responsible” and to take care of our own problems. These are admirable traits, but when taken too far interfere with a relationship to God. Our heavenly Father waits for us to come to him. We miss an opportunity when we fail to share our burdens. When we let him take control in the midst of our confusion or uncertainty, we are in the sure hands that will always get us back to “home base.”

There you saw how the L
ORD
your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.

—Deuteronomy 1:31

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UNE 16

Mother’s Son

Bicky Kiessel wrote to his uncle, a World War I veteran, about his experiences in the Italian campaign. He said, “I’ve been bombed, strafed, shelled, chased by tanks, sniped at, machine gunned and everything imaginable and some not. I got knocked about, bruised and scraped but never directly hit.”
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He saw a lot of action, but found some of his most difficult times waiting and thinking:

The idle period of waiting is nerve wracking. Everything is ready, there is just the period of absolutely nothing to do…You think a lot about the past. People you know or knew and last associations, of home, though not about big things but a lot of silly little trifles or remembrances pop into mind and if you were to stop and figure out “why?” you probably would never know. Thoughts that are precious, moments unreturnable flash past. We are different men since we have been fighting. To a great extent, unfortunately, we have lost our sensitiveness, there is a cold calculating air. We have gone through and experienced what men should not. But at times like these we are mother’s sons once more.
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