Stories of Faith and Courage from World War II

by Larkin Spivey

  We were set up just to the northeast of Anzio port. The Germans had pulled out so fast that they had left a 20mm Italian anti-aircraft gun sitting there. All our guys were horsing around, getting on the gun and the like. One of our communicators from the command post told me, “Go over to that Italian gun and get that phone wire that the Germans left behind, we can use it.” Well, instead of walking all the way out to the gun to unhook the wire, I just grabbed the wire and gave it a yank, and the whole d____ gun went up in a huge explosion. The Germans had rigged that thing to blow up if anybody broke the wire.240

  Life is full of hidden dangers we don’t expect. We take precautions to ensure the safety and well-being of ourselves and families, but over time realize we can’t plan for every contingency. The stock market crashes, the other driver swerves, or the spouse misinterprets. Many events are simply beyond our control. When we accept this fact, we open ourselves to a great spiritual blessing. God waits for us to give him control of our lives. The sooner we rely on him, the sooner we will find true peace. When we seek his direction we have a chance to align ourselves with his purpose and the ultimate safety that only God can provide: a secure place in his family and his eternal kingdom.

  Do not be anxious about anything… present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

  —Philippians 4:6, 7

  Infantry moving into the Italian hills. (National Archives)

  Tenth Mountain Division at church services in Italy (National Archives)

  June 19

  One of Three Results

  One of the bloodiest battles of the Italian campaign was fought at the little town of Cisterna. The memory of it was a blur to Robert Appel. He knew that he was in the middle of “hell breaking out all around.”241 The air was a cacophony of eerie sounds from the metallic missiles that seemed to fill the air around him. He had some amazing observations about the experience:

  I could actually hear the whirring and swishing sounds of shells whizzing by my ears. It was an unbelievable feeling to know you were literally walking through a labyrinth of metal that seemingly never presented you with an exit. It was a bewildering complexity, so real and so unreal for one to be caught up in and yet you knew the outcome would be one of three results. You would either be wounded, killed or with God’s protective armor plus sheer good luck, you could come through unscathed.242

  This soldier was wounded during the battle, but, fortunately, survived to tell us this story. His analysis of possible outcomes accurately summarized what could happen to him physically at that time. It is interesting to note that the same outcomes are also possible in our daily spiritual struggles. Our weaknesses, the thoughtlessness of others, and the dedicated effort of the Enemy all seem zeroed in on slowing and stopping our progress toward God. Unless we are prepared, any of these pitfalls can hurt and even mortally wound us in our faith.

  Fortunately, it is also possible that we can survive unscathed, and we are blessed to know that this outcome is not just a matter of sheer luck. The apostle Paul encouraged us to put on the “full armor of God” and place our spiritual safety in the hands of the one who guaranteed it through his own mortal wounds: our Savior, Jesus Christ.

  For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground.

  —Ephesians 6:12–13

  June 20

  Without Faith

  Paul Curtis was a soldier on the deadly beaches of Anzio. In May 1944 he wrote to his brother, Mitchell, back home in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Mitchell had asked him to describe his feelings about being in combat, and Paul did his best:

  I have seen some action a few hard, hard days in which I saw more than I imagined I ever would. I don’t think any man can exactly explain combat. It’s beyond words. Take a combination of fear, anger, hunger, thirst, exhaustion, disgust, loneliness, homesickness, and wrap that all up in one reaction and you might approach the feelings a fellow has. It makes you feel mighty small, helpless, and alone… Without faith, I don’t see how anyone could stand this.243

  I am struck by two words in Paul Curtis’ letter: fear and loneliness. Everyone in combat experiences fear. This is a natural reaction whenever death or injury is a possibility. I don’t know if everyone experiences loneliness in combat, but I know that I found myself in this state frequently. As an officer, I never felt free to share my deeper thoughts with the men in my unit or with superior officers, and there were rarely fellow company commanders nearby. This left me alone on most occasions with my own fears and uncertainties.

  Like Curtis, I now find it hard to see how anyone could stand combat or any other crisis of life without faith. With faith, fear of dying may still exist, but death itself is no threat when you have confidence in the reality of God’s eternal kingdom. Loneliness also becomes a non-issue when you have a relationship with God and are able to lift up your concerns to him in prayer. I regret that I did not have such faith while in combat. I would have been a more confident human being and a more effective leader.

  Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

  —Hebrews 11:1

  June 21

  Why Do Men Do That?

  Felix Sparks couldn’t stay in the rear. Wounded on Sicily and classified noncombat, he nevertheless hitched a ride on a B-17 bomber to Italy and rejoined his unit. After a period on the stalemated Gustav Line, he led his rifle company in the amphibious assault on Anzio. His unit bore the brunt of a savage German counterattack on February 16, 1944, and suffered severe casualties. He saw more than his share of action and was very emotional about the performance of his soldiers:

  I was always amazed at how the American soldier responded in combat because it was a terrible, dirty business. The weather was awful. When you’re outside in December, and only have a foxhole to sleep in, and it fills up with water all the time it’s miserable and depressing. But our soldiers learned very fast how to adapt. I loved the rifle company because that’s where the action was. We were the ones who went first in any attack. But it always amazed me why do men do that? Every attack we made, my men knew some of their buddies would be wounded or killed. Yet, when I gave the word, they moved forward without hesitation. They were very good, brave men and I was very proud of them.244

  There has been a lot of speculation about the motivation of soldiers in combat. Do they perform heroically from a sense of a higher calling or patriotic duty? Or is there a fear of being seen as cowardly? Most of those with combat experience agree that the predominant urge among soldiers is to support their own comrades. No one wants to let a buddy down or endanger him by not being at his side when it counts.

  Our fellow Christians need the same kind of support. As we do God’s work we all face hard times when we need an understanding shoulder or a helping hand. At those times our brothers and sisters in Christ should not feel alone. We need to be there for them when it counts.

  Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.

  —Romans 12:10

  June 22

  He Was Not Alone

  The 2ndBattalion fought desperately to hold Mount Battaglia from fierce German counterattacks. Sgt. Harold Flechter had to order his squad to fall back against the enemy onslaught as small arms and artillery fire blanketed his position. To cover the withdrawal of his men, Flechter jumped into a foxhole and began firing a machine gun. As his squad moved down the hill, some of them saw an artillery shell land almost on top of their leader’s foxhole.

  Later, a search was conducted for Flechter’s body, but nothing was ever found. He was listed as missing in action, bringing uncertainty and grief to a family in Kansas. Over time his parents and siblings simply had
to accept the fact that he wasn’t coming home, and a funeral service was held with an empty casket.

  Closure for the Flechter family came in 2005, when a group of Italian civilians found human remains on Mount Battaglia. They also found shoe fragments, pieces of a watch, C-ration cans, and a Catholic prayer card. The card was made of fabric with an image of Jesus Christ left on a protective plastic sheet. DNA and the prayer card identified Harold Flechter. Of all the men missing in his unit, he was the only Catholic. “We thought it was a miracle,” his brother said of the discovery and identification.245

  Peace came to this heroic soldier’s family on several levels. They finally knew exactly what happened to Flechter and were able to bury his remains at the foot of his headstone. More importantly, they were comforted by the fact that he did not die alone. His Savior was close at hand with the comfort that only he can give: assurance of a place at his side with God throughout eternity.

  Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”

  —Luke 23:42–43

  June 23

  Still Small Voice

  In 1943 Dean Willard Sperry of Harvard University published a small booklet titled, Prayers for Private Devotions in War-Time. One of his prayers, dated to the seventh century, addressed the “Spirit of Prayer”:

  Dispel for this hour, O Lord, the manifold distractions of the world; that we may be able with quiet minds to receive the promptings of thy still small voice.246

  The inspiration for this prayer clearly comes from a story in the Old Testament about the prophet Elijah’s encounter with God on Mount Horeb:

  The Lordsaid, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lordis about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lordwas not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lordwas not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lordwas not in the fire. And after the fire came a gently whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

  —1 Kings 19:11–13

  This story in no way limits how God communicates to man. He can and does speak in any way he pleases. He has revealed himself in Scripture and often speaks to us as we read and study it. He used thunder when addressing Moses. If he ever speaks to us that way, we don’t have to worry about hearing him. However, we know that God speaks most often to us quietly as we pray. He wants us to come to him in prayer and wants us to listen to him in return. Unfortunately, we often allow God’s voice to be drowned out by the noise in our lives. Today, it is even worse than when Dean Sperry offered his prayer in wartime. Today we are bombarded by news, entertainment, and advertising media that have made a science of commanding our attention. Our “manifold distractions” have multiplied many times over. To have a meaningful relationship with our heavenly Father we must make quiet time and a “quiet mind” our absolutely first priorities.

  Be still, and know that I am God.

  —Psalm 46:10

  June 24

  Shaken but Grateful

  The bombing run over Ploesti was a disaster. Vaughn Gordy’s B-24 was riddled with flak and two engines were knocked out. One crew member was killed and several others were wounded. As the aircraft started losing speed and altitude, a decision had to be made about the five-hundred-mile flight home over water. Could they make it on two engines? The pilot and engineer finally decided they could. Gordy said, “With fingers crossed and an appeal to God’s help we headed across the Adriatic.”247 The crew started throwing every loose item overboard to lighten the ship.

  Forty miles later, one of the remaining engines caught fire, and the pilot immediately announced, “We’re going to ditch.”248 As the B-24 struck the water with a violent crash, Gordy was knocked unconscious for a moment and woke up to find himself in shoulder-deep water. Someone helped him out the top hatch and into a rubber raft where he soon saw his airplane sink beneath the surface. Fortunately, rescue came soon as an Air Force seaplane appeared over the horizon. Gordy summed up the incident:

  Four hours after the crash we were back in Italy. Final tally: our tail-gunner was killed in the crash and went down with the plane; our waist-gunner was seriously injured, but survived; but the rest of the crew went back to work the next day, shaken but grateful.249

  After ditching at sea, some time off would seem to be in order. Bomber Command, however, seemed to believe that crash survivors should just get over the trauma and get back to work. It is undoubtedly true that the longer you brood about a pain or fear, the harder it will be to get over it later. This applies especially in our relationships. It is always better to clear the air sooner rather than later. Instead of letting a sore spot fester, forgive someone or ask them for forgiveness, and get on with your next assignment.

  Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say good-by to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

  —Luke 9:61–62

  June 25

  Three Hymn Books

  Horace Maycock was taken prisoner on Christmas morning 1942. He soon arrived in Camp 70, south of Rome, with thousands of other captured soldiers. Describing this traumatic experience, he said:

  It is difficult to convey the true meaning of loss of liberty. Those who have experienced it can fully understand the complete turnaround involved, in which a name becomes a number, the man a machine. It is not easy to adapt to an inflicted mechanical atmosphere, to be thrust suddenly into a world that, at first sight, appears devoid of any understanding of human rights and feelings.250

  Under the brutal conditions of captivity, this soldier did find a way to fill the void of human understanding. He and many others made their way to the “churches” organized in their camp. There were Wesleyan, Anglican, and Catholic groups, each of which was a source of strength and encouragement to those who participated.

  In November 1943 Maycock was moved to Germany with sixty other prisoners to work on a railroad construction site. As Christmas approached, he took it upon himself to organize a church for this small group. They were all billeted in one room, and this became the sanctuary. He made a rough wooden cross. His only other resources were three old hymnbooks, from which he copied songs onto sheets of black-out paper. With one violin for accompaniment, he held the first service on Christmas morning.

  The image of this worship service comes to mind when I am sitting comfortably in my own Episcopal church, surrounded by stained glass, organ music, silver, and linen. I wonder if we come close to the spiritual depth of these men worshipping under much more austere conditions. Probably not. In their circumstance, the need for God was obvious and urgent. Truly, in this sense, blessed are the poor in spirit. We can only approximate this urgency by reminding ourselves of our fallen nature and our constant need for the forgiveness and grace of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

  For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them.

  —Matthew 18:20

  June 26

  We Need to Care

  Albert Thomas saw a lot during his service with the 366th Infantry Division. He was a frontline infantryman, sniper, winch operator, and truck driver. With assignments in Italy, France, and the South Pacific, he was never in one place for long. The worst time for him was in the Po Valley during the Allied drive north of Rome. He saw a lot of men wounded and killed, including a good friend whom he was not able to help during the heat of battle. His feelings of sadness and regret stayed with him:

  When it comes down to it we are all just humans here to help each other. Seeing this devastation every day for years takes its toll on you. You come home to things and people don’t understand you. You’re messed u
p from all the sadness and cruelty you see. I wish today we could care about each other the way we use [sic] to. No matter the money or things you have we are the same. You only live for so long we need to care about each other. That’s what I discovered to be the most important from being in the war.251

  We can each benefit from the insights of this veteran who found his own way to cope with suffering. He saw all of war’s destruction: cities and countryside devastated, soldiers wounded and killed, civilians rendered destitute. He struggled with all this and eventually concluded that the most important thing for him was to help other people. It is a blessing to see a good man’s thoughtful reaction to the horrors of war. It gives us hope that we can each struggle through our trials and disappointments to a better day, focusing less on our own misery, and more on caring for those around us.

  “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.”

  —John 13:12–15

  June 27