United States Navy Chaplain Corps - Yearbook

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didn't realize that I was a chaplain. I didn't disclose my identity since he might be embarrassed to let a chaplain lead him out to Vegas. We crossed the rice paddy which divided the outpost Vegas from the check point and friendly forces. Breaking the group into two equal parts, I instructed the second half of men to Come up Vegas hill after the first group had reached the top and had started down with their cargos. Flares lighted the area around the outpost so that it seemed like daylight. It was easy to find the trail which led to our goal. The men followed with silent steps. Upon reaching the trench line of Vegas the wounded and dead were quickly placed on stretchers and started toward the main lines. There was no need to tell the Koreans to hurry, they moved as fast as they could. Occasionally enemy mor- tars reminded us that it was unhealthy to spend much time there unprotected by any trench or cover. Doc Minter, the corpsman, moved through the trench line calling out, any wounded up there, anyone who needs a doctor? The word went from tired and trembling lips to all who could still hear and understand. There was one Marine who crawled down the trench line, dazed and quiet. He was suffering from concussion. We told him to follow the stretcher which contained a wounded Marine. Back to the peace and safety of the aid station started the small groups of four carrying their precious burdens away from the mess and chaos of that hill. Most of the men had to remain on Vegas. They were held in fixed positions by duty and valor. Their only ques- tion was, when do you think we'll get off this hill? They had a job to do, but they still wanted to taste the fruits of victory. They wanted to live just as I wanted to live. That was the last time I walked up Vegas hill where the valley of the shadow of death' was a reality to all who passed by. What heroes were left out there the world will never know. When the next afternoon brought relief to Easy Company the men returned to camp without a complaint, too tired and weary to act like the returning conquerors that they were. That night after showers and the first warm food for days the men began to talk in small groups gathered together in their tents. As I moved from tent to tent I could hear the retelling of a hero's deed, or softly the mentioning of a buddyls name and then the deep silence that comes when death has passed that way. Empty cots and empty hearts were silent reminders of friends who had gone their way. Lives were changed linj those past few days. God had made His Presence felt to men who never felt they needed Him before. A trench became for some the stepping stone to heaven while to others it was the beginning of a new life with God. None were ashamed to admit their need of God-none held back a word of praise about Him. In one group a reporter was gathering details for a story. He was going to tell the world about Vegas. Man after man gave him bits of battle news, told of friends who were brave and true. With eager and professional hands the reporter recorded dates, times, and facts in his notebook. Later he would weave into words the meaning of their actions. How- ever, no written or spoken word could ever tell the thoughts of men who had fought and won a battle for an unknown outpost. How could anyone explain what was in their souls, these men who had seen the agony and pain of friends whose lives were touched by war? These men who had lived in the hands of God on a hill far away . . .? God alone was the recorder of their lives. Chaplain Newman was awarded a Silver Star for his part in the engagement from 26-27 March. His citation reads as follows and includes the fact that he courageously gave up his armored jacket, which was a very scarce item. For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action against the enemy while sewing with a Marine infantry battalion in Korea on 26-27 March 1953. Serving as a chaplain, Lieu- tenant ljg.D Newman displayed outstanding courage, initia- tive, and devotion to duty. During the assaults on vital enemy held outpost positions, he continuously exposed him- self to devastating enemy mortar and artillery in order to assist the stretcher bearers and comfort the wounded. Ex- pressing complete disregard for his personal safety, he eourageously gave his armored vest to a Marine whose vest was unfit for wear and for the remainder of the 2-day period, he went without this added protection in an area interdictedl by hostile firef During the reorganization phase when the enemy was only fifty to one hundred yards away, he fear- lessly walked about the trench line offering words of en- couragement and spiritual guidance to the men. His pres- ence was a distinct comfort to the men and contributed in great measure to the maintenance of spirit and high devotion to duty among them. Lieutenant fjg.J Newman's out- standing actions and indomitable spirit served as an inspira- tion to all who observed him and were in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service. Chaplain Newman described the activity of a chap- lain on the line. He said, When the battalion is on the line, he trudges the ridgelines to hold services with a different company every day. He writes to the family of every new man who joins the battal- ion, regardless of faith. He keeps a note pad full of requests to purchase things for the man when he goes to Seoul twice a month. He goes down with a jeep and trailer loaded with candy, clothing, and other supplies for orphans. He comes back loaded with candles, radio tubes, gasoline lanterns and anything else his men have requested. Some of this he can get from the Army post exchange. Chaplain Newman's devotion to his men and the Marine Corps is demonstrated by the occasion of the birthday of the Marine Corps. One is told that Chap- lain Newman . . . managed a cake and took off, unarmed and on foot, along a trail leading to the most extended outpost of the battalion. Shells were landing on the position when Newman jumped into the main bunker with the cake. The handful of men holding the lonely post were cheered for days by his act. Chaplain Nordby gives a general picture of the area occupied by the Division at this time, ' The italics are the historian's. 170-

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Preparation for Vegas. Chaplain james Kelly prays with marines from the 2d Battalion, 7th Regiment as they stand by to move out to hit the enemy. to those who still felt and saw its radiance. There were those men who had grown cold with death and now only felt the warmth of heavenly sunshine. We began the slow and difficult task of bringing the dead down from the top trenches. Every man in the trench would help as the stretcher was carried down the trench line. In the trench I saw faces I had known before-men of Easy Company- tired, dirty, afraid, and heart-sick from the loss of friends and buddies. When 1030 came I thought of the church service that I should be conducting back in the reserve area for the 3d Battalion, 7th Marines. These men on Vegas needed the reassurance that God hadn't forsaken them. They needed so much that only God could give. Sunday morning and part of the afternoon we searched the hillsides of Vegas looking for the dead who had been left behind in the excitement of the fighting. I collected men who were not busy fighting wherever I could find them and formed them into stretcher teams. My friend Sergeant Matthews was still lying out there somewhere and I wanted to bring him back again. We failed to find any trace of his body. More than a week later he was found and recom- mended for the Medal of Honor for his heroic deeds. We found other men, broken bodies sprawled behind bushes in hideous ways hardly recognizable as men we had once known. Since we were under enemy observation, we worked rapidly and in small teams of four. The hill having been cleaned of its burden of human flesh as far as we could go, our sad procession started in with our heavy loads. Once again the church music was lacking-only the voices of tired men calling out commands or cheering each other on. What an entry was being made by these men who had found the eternal peace that they had fought to gain. If only the world could see the sorrow in this scene! The light melted into another period of darkness again and with the night came increased enemy activity. Death and injury once again touched the hilltop of Vegas. It was late that night before I found my way out to the hill. Stretcher teams were going back and forth between the hill and the wire which marked the main line and safety. Most of the Marines were exhausted from the days without sleep and the emotional strain of the battle. Finally an opportu- nity to help presented itself-they needed someone to show a group of 48 Korean stretcher bearers the way to Vegas. One Marine thought he knew but wasn't certain. Quietly I offered him my services and stepped in front of the long line of men to start the journey out to pick up 12 wounded Ma- rines. The Marine asked me where my weapon wasg my comment was, I have none., He said no more but still -169-

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A chaplain recalled to duty from his civilian parish finds that there is little here in Korea to remind him of the vast sweep and scope of the fast moving actions of World War II days. The front lines facing no-man's land extend for miles up and down hills, winding like the Great Wall of China across rolling terrain, rice paddies and great jagged peaks. The men live in sand bagged bunkers, two, three, and four to a bunker. The architecture and innovations in these dwellings depend upon the ingenuity of the occupants- and the American young men have never lacked in original- ity and imagination. Some of the bunkers are veritable bear traps and pitfalls of gadgets, latches, stoves, collapsible bunks, pinup pictures and the ever present supply of C-ration cans mixed with a ready stock of hand grenades. Prac- tically all bunkers have some type of stove for heating and coffee making. In most cases one hot meal a day is carried up to the lines or troops are brought down in reliefs to ad- vance mess tents. The chaplain fmds that his congregation on the line does not lead a safe and comfortable life. These men are harassed by rats and insects to say nothing of mud or the reddish colored Korean dirt. In spite of all this the morale of the troops on the front lines is the best in the service. It is here that one enjoys that peculiar feeling only experienced, unfortunately on the field of battle, the feeling that everyone is concerned with taking care of the other person. Such great passages as Greater love, hath no man than this: that he lay down his life for a friend, becomes a beautiful common experience. Marines will not be stopped from go- ing out under fire to get a buddy. None complain if they have to carry a friend a great distance to the forward aid bunker. As for the battle actions, they are usually localized strug- gles involving squads, platoons and companies, sometimes battalions. However, the size of the units fighting is not a measure of their bitterness as far as the individual is con- cerned. The actions that carry up steep, 60 slopes in face of artillery and mortar fire and the desperate last stands of small units on outposts are as grim in their ways as any- thing the Marines witnessed on Guadalcanal, Tarawa, or Saipan. Many of the actions consist of night patrols and ambushes well forward of the lines, fought out in the dark at conversational range with both sides making desperate attempts to capture prisoners. Then again there are the quiet periods of waiting, listening, but little action for days or weeks at a time, and then it may break wide open. Chaplain James C. Moore, Methodist, describes his experiences in the Reno and Vegas operations by saying, The Chinese began an assault on these positions just at dusk, preceded by a tremendous artillery and mortar barrage which was to be numbered in the thousands of rounds. Such an assault meant casualties, so the chaplains gathered in the aid station at lst Battalion. The first casualties were already there, having been hit in the battalion command post itself. Shells were still coming in intermittently, so each man had his eye on the nearest hole. The wounded were taken care of, put on ambulances, and sent back to the medical companies in the rear. The doctors, the corpsmen, and the chaplains, settled down in foxholes to wait for the first load of casualties to come from the line. Everyone knew that the night would not be used for sleeping. Those waiting at battalion aid pieced together what news they had. Outpost Reno had been overrun, and all the men on it were lost-Vegas had been taken-all the men were lost or captured- Fox company, from the 2d Battal- ion, was going out to Reno-the outposts must be retaken- there were many casualties. And so they waited. The first wounded from the line came in. Bodies torn and bleeding-minds shaken from the incessant pounding they had received. The doctors worked quickly-putting on bandages-giving life-saving albumin-directing the corpsmen. The chaplains knelt over the men. The priest heard confessions and gave absolution-the Protestant chap- lains prayed with them-Mall trying to comfort men whose bodies were suffering. And the casualties continued to come. Some of the men had no wounds on their bodies, their tags having only one word- concussion. These men were wounded in their minds. They needed rest and sleep to wipe away the shock which had numbed their minds to reality. Some were shaking uncontrollably-some muttered words without meaning-but most just sat and stared-their eyes blank-seeing nothing. The doctors asked the chaplains to take care of the men suffering from concussion, for the seriously wounded were demanding all their attention and skill. Then, the chap- lains began a process which became all too familiar in the days which followed. The less serious cases were led away to places where they could sleep, the more serious were taken to one side and held for the doctor's examination when the rush slackened. The human mind can take great pres- sures, up to a certain point, and these men had passed that point. On the outposts, the fighting continued, while in the rear areas, all efforts were turned towards assembling enough men and material to drive the Chinese from our old positions. The coming of day brought to light many things. The supply tent near battalion aid, had received a direct hit from an enemy shell, but of all the medical supplies stored there, only a bottle of poison ivy lotion was broken. Around the aid station was the evidence always left by the wounded, blood-soaked clothing-torn and muddy-gaping helmets- empty boots, all bearing the individual imprint of their for- mer owners. The Marines began to send more men out to Vegas, so the chaplains had another task to perform. They hurried to the areas where the men disembarked from trucks, before be- ginning the long trek out to the hill. There, if time allowed, short services were held, and at the very least the Navy padres had prayer with the men. Whatever hour the men went out, the chaplains tried to be there-from early in the morning, until late at night. One day ran into another, the fight went on without let up. All through the days and nights, the wounded con- tinued to pour in. Men became groggy from lack of sleep, and the few minutes they managed to spend napping, only served to emphasize their need for real rest. The infantry went out to Vegas, were relieved, only to go out again. Men lost all sense of time. You know the rest of the story. Vegas was retaken, and 171 -