Stories of Faith and Courage from World War II

by Larkin Spivey

  For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.

  —Matthew 23:12

  April 30

  Down to Bed Rock

  No one on earth complains like a soldier in combat or has more reason to. He suffers from hunger, thirst, exhaustion, fear, and the perceived incompetence of those “above” him. And he doesn’t suffer in silence. Expressing himself effectively with a mixture of profanity and humor is a matter of professional pride. Sgt. Ray Salisbury was with the U.S. forces in North Africa in 1943 and had his own observations on this trait of the American soldier:

  We can complain to ourselves, grouse about conditions and yell about anything or everything but when something comes up that needs everyone’s cooperation the Americans are there to do it. Then they go back to their complaining… Just to witness the ingenuity of soldiers who aren’t provided with the comforts of home, to see them make crystals for their watches out of a turret canopy—to watch them repair their shoes with nails made from carpet tacks. There are countless other things they do. They do not complain because they are without facilities—they make their own… Here is where you get down to bed rock. Here is where you discover that you have pools of energy that have never been tapped.161

  It is the same now as it was then: our soldiers are a product of the society they come from. They are used to thinking for themselves and don’t usually hesitate to state their opinions, even when they irritate those “above” them. The smart officer (as well as employer or parent) doesn’t fight this ingrained trait. They do better to facilitate it. You will have a better military unit, business, or family if those under your supervision have a regular way to express their opinions. When you insist on positive suggestions along with the complaints, you tap into the “bed rock” mentioned above: the creative potential and energy of people molded in the spirit of freedom.

  I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free.

  —Psalm 119:32

  Soldiers landing on North African beaches (National Archives)

  May

  ADVANCE IN THE WESTERN PACIFIC

  After the Battle of Midway, the strategic focus of Japan and the United States shifted to an obscure and remote corner of the Western Pacific known as the Solomon Islands. On August 7, 1942, the 1st Marine Division, commanded by Maj. Gen. Alexander Vandegrift, landed on Guadalcanal and quickly took control of a partially finished airstrip, which the Marines renamed Henderson Field. Work on the runway was rushed to completion, and, in little over a week, Marine dive-bombers and fighter aircraft were landing to add airpower to the defense of the new base.

  Contrary to the ease of its capture, the defense of Guadalcanal became a long, drawn-out nightmare for the Marines ashore and the sailors at sea. On the night of the second day, a strong Japanese naval force arrived and decimated the U.S. covering force. In the night Battle of Savo Island the Allies lost four cruisers and one thousand seamen. The Japanese fleet turned away before finishing the fleet of transport ships still off-loading cargo across the beaches, miraculously saving the invasion from ruin.

  The desperate struggle for Guadalcanal continued for four months. Both sides were forced to resupply and reinforce at night due to the threat of air strikes during daylight hours. The Japanese were able to bring in a constant stream of new troops and, by early November, outnumbered the Marines. They launched attack after attack against the positions around Henderson Field. The Marines held on in spite of hunger, malaria, and severe shortages of equipment and supplies. At this point in the war, the North African landings and supply convoys to England and Russia were competing for every item of logistical support.

  As the Marines held on ashore the Navy fought a series of battles at sea that would prove critical to the final outcome. Fortunately, the determined and aggressive Adm. William F. “Bull” Halsey took command of the naval forces conducting the Solomons campaign. On the night of November 1415 a battleship engagement was fought off Guadalcanal. The Japanese lost one of their largest ships, and another major resupply effort was thwarted. After this, the Japanese did not launch another significant offensive against the island. The Marines were relieved on December 9, at which time General Vandegrift told his men: “ It may well be that this modest operation begun four months ago today has, through your efforts, been successful in thwarting the large aims of our enemy in the Pacific.”162

  As the Marines were securing Guadalcanal, American and Australian forces under Gen. Douglas MacArthur were defeating Japanese forces defending the Papuan Peninsula on the southern end of New Guinea. In early 1943, both forces went on the offensive, advancing toward the Japanese stronghold of Rabaul on the eastern end of New Britain. MacArthur’s units leapfrogged up the coast of New Guinea as Halsey’s force, spearheaded by the Marines, attacked through the central Solomons and Bougainville.

  By early 1944 both forces converged on the Admiralty Islands. When Manus was taken and forward naval and air bases established, Rabaul was effectively bypassed, isolating and neutralizing more than ninety thousand Japanese troops in strong defensive positions. At this point, MacArthur was ready to continue his advance along the coast of New Guinea toward the Philippines as the bulk of Navy and Marine units turned their attention to the Central Pacific.

  May 1

  Hearing God

  As the Japanese moved relentlessly through Southeast Asia, a group of Christian missionaries assembled on the Netherlands East Indies island of Celebes to anxiously await developments. In late January 1942 the Dutch police came to Dr. Robert Jaffrey, the mission chairman, to inform him that a ship was lying at anchor to evacuate the last of the foreigners from the island. Dr. Jaffrey called a meeting to share this information and to determine who was going to leave and who was going to stay. He gave them challenging instructions:

  I want to counsel you not to discuss this decision that must be made with each other—not even husband and wife. Go to your knees and say, ‘Lord, what do You want me to do? Shall I go or shall I stay?’ This is extremely vital, because then no matter what happens in the months or possibly years ahead, you will know that you are exactly where God wants you to be. If He leads you to leave, you’ll never feel that you were a coward and fled. If you are led to stay, no matter what happens you can look up and say, ‘Lord, you intended for me to be right here.’163

  Later, when the trucks arrived to pick up the missionaries, not one stepped forward to leave. All knew with certainty that God had called them to stay. Dr. Jaffrey said, “ God does not work in confusion, a wife against her husband or vice versa, in a matter that concerns both of you. This is but a confirmation to your hearts of His directive.”164

  Three days later it was reported that their assigned ship had been torpedoed and sunk with no known survivors. God had obviously spoken to these missionaries, and, amazingly, they were able individually to discern his guidance. We have to be inspired by the example of these spiritual people. Like them, we should seek to grow constantly in our ability to distinguish God’s voice amid the clutter and distractions of our lives. This is no less a matter of life and death for us than for a group of missionaries long ago in the Pacific.

  He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice.

  —John 10:3–4

  May 2

  106 Miles through the Valley

  Seventeen-year-old Glenn Frazier was captured on the Bataan Peninsula in April 1942 and spent three and a half years in Japanese prisoner camps. His worst ordeal was the first six days and seven nights. Glenn surrendered with seventy-eight thousand other U.S. and Philippine troops who found themselves at the mercy of an enemy who held the act of surrender in the greatest contempt. The Japanese forced their already exhausted and disease-ridden captives to march overland with practically no food or water to distant prison camps. Those who fell out along the way were killed. Thousands died al
ong this grim trail in a tragedy that the survivors would never forget. Throughout the infamous Bataan Death March, Glenn Frazier turned to God for the strength to keep going and, because of his powerful faith, ultimately survived the brutal trial of endurance. He later described his ordeal and his salvation in a paraphrase of the 23rd Psalm:

  Yea though I walked 106 miles through the valley and in the shadow of death, I feared the evil of the imperial Japanese soldier. They had the guns and bayonets to use against me. All I had was the love and faith that God would comfort me. I knew the Lord was my shepherd. They forbid me to lay down in green pastures for six days and seven nights. I was marched by running water but was forbidden a drink. The Japanese prepared their tables before me but I was forbidden food. They maketh me march without mercy. But only God could restoreth my soul. He leadeth me step by step along the way in the face of my enemies. He promised to anoint my head with love and understanding and, even though my cup was empty, I knew it would be filled in his name’s sake. I knew that goodness and mercy would follow me. My life would be spared in his name. I knew that even though the path was long and hard, it was the path of righteousness for his name sake.165

  Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens… Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign Lord comes escape from death.

  —Psalm 68:19–20

  May 3

  The Fighting Chaplain

  Chaplain George Rentz was liked and admired by all aboard the USS Houston. Fifty-nine years old and a veteran of World War I, he was probably the oldest man on the ship. He was most often found walking among the men, helping where he could and giving words of encouragement. He often brought ice water and cookies to those on watch, and was even known to give out a few unauthorized drinks of harder stuff when conditions called for it.166 Even when the ship was under air attack, Chaplain Rentz remained topside to be with the anti-aircraft gun crews. An officer noted that when the gunners “ saw this man of God walking fearlessly among them, they no longer felt alone. ”167

  On February 28, 1942, the Houston was fatally wounded during the Battle of the Java Sea and had to be abandoned. In the darkness of night Chaplain Rentz entered the water with his life jacket and hundreds of other survivors. He found a spot of relative safety with others on an overcrowded floatplane pontoon, and seeing that there wasn’t room for everyone, he said to the men around him, “ You men are young, I have lived the major part of my life and I am willing to go.”168 He let go the pontoon and tried to drift away, but the men brought him back several times. Finally, he said a prayer, took off his life jacket, placed it near a sailor without one, and silently slipped below the surface. For this extraordinary act of heroism, George Rentz was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross the only Navy chaplain to be so honored during World War II.

  He had followed the law of the Apostles’ Creed,

  His life the price of a noble deed.

  He went to his Lord with no regret

  Our Fighting Chaplain we’ll never forget.169

  The wicked man flees though no one pursues, but the righteous are as bold as a lion.

  —Proverbs 28:1

  May 4

  Boot Camp

  William Manchester (1922–2004) was the best-selling author of eighteen books and deemed by the Washington Post as one of the greatest popular historians of the twentieth century.170 His books focused on the lives of military and political leaders such as Douglas MacArthur, Winston Churchill, and John Kennedy.

  Not quite so well known is the fact that Manchester was also a Marine during World War II. He joined the Corps in 1942 while still in college. His first experience was boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina, where his head was shaved and he was given a number. He met a new god-like figure, the Drill Instructor, and learned the three ways of doing things: the right way, the wrong way, and the Marine Corps way. Discipline was harsh and corporal punishment was common. In spite of the shock, Manchester somehow concluded that he adored Parris Island.

  How could I enjoy this? Parts of it, of course, I loathed. But the basic concept fascinated me. I wanted to surrender my individuality, curbing my neck beneath the yoke of petty tyranny. Since my father’s death I had yearned for stern discipline, and Parris Island, where he himself had learned discipline a quarter-century earlier, gave it to me in spades. Physically I was delicate, even fragile, but I had limitless reservoirs of energy, and I could feel myself toughening almost hourly. Everything I saw seemed exquisitely defined—every leaf, every pebble looked as sharp as a drawing in a book. I knew I was merely becoming a tiny cog in the vast machine which would confront fascism, but that was precisely why I had volunteered.171

  William Manchester brought a great writer’s discernment to a brutal process. He saw through his own personal agony to the higher purpose of this experience. To win a war, many good men had to subject themselves to the severest discipline. There are times in our lives when God’s discipline can also be difficult to endure and to understand. God disciplines us mainly through our hardships and setbacks, and, when we allow these experiences to bring us closer to him, we grow that much “tougher” for our service in his kingdom.

  Know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you.

  —Deuteronomy 8:5

  May 5

  The Code

  Abraham Felber landed at Red Beach on Guadalcanal with the first wave of Marines on August 7, 1942. He was a thirty-six-year-old sergeant and grizzled veteran of the old Corps. As 1st Sergeant of Headquarters Battery, 11th Marines, it was up to him to pass on the time-honored traditions of the Corps to the younger men. Some of those traditions were contained in an unwritten code that distinguished the Old Breed. According to Felber, the “Code” required certain things of every Marine:

  You don’t hold a grudge against your fellow Marine, and you don’t let anyone hold a grudge against you. You settle matters here and now. If words don’t work, then with fists.

  You take the responsibility, and you take the blame, even if it’s not yours.

  When war comes, you fight, because that’s what you owe your country.

  In war, you depend for your life on your fellow Marine, and he depends for his life on you.

  You respect your own sailors and airmen doing battle for you. They are fighting and dying in the skies and on the seas to protect you. That’s a service you can’t return to them.

  You respect your enemy. They are husbands, fathers, and sons who fight and die just as bravely as you do.

  And when the warrior’s day is done, and your nation seems quick to forget your sacrifice and your honor, you remain ever faithful, ever loyal.172

  The “Code” was an unusual blend of toughness and compassion that probably had its roots centuries ago among the knights of England. It was harsh and unyielding in war and chivalrous in peace, calling each man to a higher level of personal responsibility for his actions. In the end, it reflects the motto of the Marine Corps: Semper Fidelis. This is a standard that we should all attain to: being always faithful to the cause, even when our efforts are not understood or appreciated. We know that our cause in service to God and his kingdom is ultimately important and worthy of this dedication. We also know that no matter what God is faithful to us.

  His master replied, ”Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”

  —Matthew 25:23

  May 6

  White Linen

  As the 1st Marine Division hit the beaches on Guadalcanal, two battalions made simultaneous landings less than twenty miles away on the little island of Tulagi. Here the Marines got a taste of the fanatical resistance they would face for the rest of the war. It took three days of bitter fighting to secure the little island.

  Lt. Paul Moore was a platoon commander in the Tulagi invasion force. Within just a year he had graduated from Yale, joined
the Marine Corps, trained as an infantry officer, and sailed half way around the world to this remote spot. He now found himself in a place that he had never even heard of a few weeks before. It was a challenge just to exist in the jungle with almost constant rain and the sickening stench of decaying vegetation. He was shocked at his first sight of dead Japanese, and affected even more by the sight of wounded and dead fellow Marines. A few days after the island was secured he attended a religious service that left a lasting impression:

  Sunday came several days after Tulagi had been secured. It may even have been the third day, when we were still very dirty and still terribly upset by our first experience with death. The whole outfit, those who were not on duty, came down to the cricket field, and the chaplain celebrated mass. The only clean thing on that entire island was the white linen, which he had salvaged to put over the makeshift altar, and perhaps his vestments. I remember having—it sounds sentimental—but a feeling, you know, about the world being broken, sinful, full of horror, terror, filth, but God being still pure. I had a real sense of reassurance.173

  Every Episcopal church has an altar guild of church people who voluntarily serve to maintain the altar linens and priestly vestments in an immaculate condition. I will never again take this service lightly after hearing the testimony of this Marine lieutenant on Tulagi. What a glorious mission: to give a hint of God’s purity by this attention to detail in the physical elements of worship. These physical symbols of God’s holiness are just as meaningful in our Sunday church services today as they were on a jungle island in wartime.