Stories of Faith and Courage from World War II

wartime separations were measured in years rather than months. Others were having an even harder time.

We need this same perspective as we deal with our own problems from day to day. No matter how difficult our situation, we can be confident that it could be worse. More importantly, no matter how difficult our situation, there is always much for which we can be thankful. A thankful heart is more pleasing to God than one preoccupied with problems, and thankfulness can be the perfect basis for a growing relationship with him.

Sing to the Lord, you saints of his; praise his holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.

—Psalms 30:4–5

December 4 A Soul-Stirring Sight

The USS Franklin was a World War II Essex-class aircraft carrier, affectionately known to her crew as “ Big Ben.” On the morning of March 19, 1945, she was maneuvering close to Japan when a lone enemy bomber attacked suddenly, dropping two bombs that penetrated deep into the ship, causing immense devastation and widespread fires. As the fires grew in intensity, secondary explosions started from the ship’s ammunition stocks. Casualties were everywhere.

From this scene of chaos arose one of the war’s greatest heroes. Lt. Cdr. Joseph O’Callahan was Big Ben’s chaplain and a very impressive figure. His physical appearance was commanding and his past accomplishments as a collegiate track star, writer, and university professor were legendary. His actions on this day are best recounted in the citation for his Medal of Honor:

Lieutenant Commander O’Callahan groped his way through smoke-filled corridors to the open deck and into the midst of violently exploding bombs, rockets and other armament. With the ship rocked by incessant explosions, with debris and fragments raining down and fires raging in ever increasing fury, he ministered to the wounded and dying, comforting and encouraging men of all faiths; he organized and led fire-fighting crews into the blazing inferno on the flight deck…Serving with courage, fortitude and deep spiritual strength, Lieutenant Commander O’Callahan inspired the gallant officers and men of the Franklin to fight heroically and with profound faith in the face of almost certain death.⁵⁰⁶

This was the only Medal of Honor awarded to a chaplain in World War II. His commanding officer called O’Callahan, “The bravest man I ever saw.”⁵⁰⁷ Another officer described his actions as “a soul stirring sight.”⁵⁰⁸ With a white cross painted on his helmet Joseph O’Callahan bravely went beyond the call of duty and distinguished himself and the Savior whom he served.

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.

—2 Timothy 1:7

December 5 An Unseen Enemy

Iwo Jima means “sulfur island,” and the rotten egg smell of sulfur gas pouring out of steaming rock beds permeated the air. By the time the Marines landed there was practically no vegetation remaining over a moonscape of cratered volcanic sand and rocky ridges. They soon realized that they were engaged in a two-dimensional battle. They were fighting

on Iwo Jima, whereas the Japanese defenders were under Iwo Jima. The island had been turned into one of the greatest underground fortresses ever seen.

For months Korean laborers, military engineers and demolition experts had built fortified positions and interconnecting tunnels throughout the island, stocked with ammunition and food. The Japanese soldiers waited in these mutually supporting underground fortifications for the Americans to come to them. Each had a printed “battle vow” before him in his cave: “Each man will make it his duty to kill ten of the enemy before dying.”⁵⁰⁹

For the Marines, this was largely a battle against an unseen enemy. One historian remarked, “There were Marines who fought on Iwo Jima for the entire six-week campaign who never saw a living enemy soldier.”⁵¹⁰ One Marine said, “It was an eerie landscape. While you couldn’t see them, you had a feeling that the Japanese had you always in their sights.”⁵¹¹

Christians also face an enemy that amazingly remains largely unseen in the world around them. Satan has succeeded in trivializing his own image to the extent that few take even his existence seriously. The little red figure with a pitchfork is more of a joke than a threat to anyone’s eternal survival. It is well to ponder the evil that we see at work in the world and how well organized it often seems to be. And we need to renew our understanding of this enemy’s nature through Scripture: “The devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour”(1 Peter 5:8). Knowledge of such an enemy is essential to our spiritual survival.

For such men are false apostles, deceitful workmen, masquerading as apostles of Christ. And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.

—2 Corinthians 11:13–14

^{Marines advancing on difficult terrain. (National Archives)}

^{Church service on Okinawa. (National Archives)}

December 6 Emergency Landing

During the battle for Iwo Jima, the Marines suffered their highest casualty rate of the war. For the first time, there were more American dead and wounded than Japanese. One rifle company landed with 235 men, received seventy replacements during the battle, and suffered 240 casualties, more than 100 percent of its original strength. Twenty-seven Medals of Honor were awarded, reflecting the heroism of the men and the savagery of the fighting.

On March 4 the battle for the island was still raging when the Marines received an unexpected visitor. A B-29 bomber flew past Mount Suribachi, dipped down, and slammed onto the partially repaired airstrip. As the aircraft skidded to a stop at the northern end of the runway, the name Dynah Might could be seen painted on the nose. Enemy fire started falling near the aircraft. Taxiing back to the other side of the airfield out of range of the enemy guns, the sixty-five-ton behemoth came to a stop. The crew jumped out of the aircraft, fell on their hands and knees and kissed the runway. Hundreds of Seabees and Marines cheered their throats dry, as one Marine observed, “What a contrast! Here were men so glad to be on the island they were kissing it. A mile or two to the north were three Marine divisions who thought the ground… (was) not even good enough to spit on.”⁵¹²

The Dynah Might brought a tangible demonstration to the Marines of what they