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Remembering the Four Chaplains

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World War II heroes honored

By Jim Clark

It may have been Super Bowl Sunday, but for those gathered at Veterans Memorial Park on the afternoon of Feb. 5, something far more important to them was being remembered.
There was a Four Chaplains ceremony that attracted a small crowd to a corner of the park near the plaque honoring the four men of God who sacrificed so much during an attack on a ship in World War II.
The four men saved many sailors whose ship had been torpedoed by the Germans. The ship didn’t have a chance, going down in a very short time.
The crowd heard Chaplain Capt. Gary R. Politt, U.S. Navy Retired, of Jacksonville, tell them about the men who “sacrificed their own safety and stayed to help others as the ship was going down.”
There is also testimony that they gave up their life jackets to others who had none.
In addition to the speaker, who was introduced by Chaplain Col. Lamar Hunt, U.S. Navy retired, the crowd heard the playing of “Assembly” and “Taps” by Lee Muncaster; the introductions by Chaplain Lt. Cmdr. Elden H. Luffman; the invocation by Chaplain Lt. Cmdr. Mike Harrison, USNR retired; saw the presentation of the colors by the North Marion Young Marines; the singing of the National Anthem and “Eternal Father Strong to Save” by Marcia Muncaster; the leading of the Pledge of Allegiance by Larry Duncan, American Merchant Marine veteran and a park volunteer; recognition of guests by Jeffrey Askew, Veterans Service director; saw the lighting of the memorial candle for each of the Four Chaplains by Suzanne Hough and Jean Kirby, Daughters of the American Revolution; the Memorial Prayer by Chaplain Col. Janet Horton, U.S. Army, retired; the benediction by Rabbi Ze’ev Harari, Temple Beth Shalom of Ocala, and “Amazing Grace” by John the Bagpiper.
The story of the Four Chaplains follows:
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Reprinted with permission from the Four Chaplains Memorial Foundation
It was the evening of Feb. 2, 1943, and the U.S.A.T. 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. 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 the 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.
The U-223 approached the convoy on the surface, and after identifying and targeting the ship, he 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.
Danielsen, alerted that the Dorchester was taking water rapidly and sinking, gave the order to abandon ship. 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 re-enter 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 lifejackets 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.
The Distinguished Service Cross and Purple Heart were awarded posthumously December 19, 1944, to the next of kin by Lt. Gen. Brehon B. Somervell, Commanding General of the Army Service Forces, in a ceremony at the post chapel at Fort Myer, Va.
A one-time only posthumous Special Medal for Heroism was authorized by Congress and awarded by the President Eisenhower on Jan. 18, 1961. Congress attempted to confer the Medal of Honor but was blocked by the stringent requirements that required heroism performed under fire. The special medal was intended to have the same weight and importance as the Medal of Honor.