Stories of Faith and Courage from World War II

smaller than destroyers, they were a violent ride in heavy seas. Actually designed for coastal duty, they were often pressed into the service of ocean-going convoys. Frank Curry spent much of the war on the HMCS Kamsack, a Canadian Navy corvette operating out of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia. Unending days at sea aboard these little ships was a true test of human endurance. From Curry’s diary:

Now I know something of the meaning of rough seas. Mountainous seas are breaking completely over the ship, and it is turning into massive coatings of ice as it hits. We are sheathed in sixteen inches of ice and I do not know what keeps us from going to the bottom of the Atlantic as we pitch, toss, roll and everything else imaginable.

Just as we were about to head back to Sydney, we received urgent orders to proceed to the rescue of a torpedoed ship in the Gulf. So off we went into the very teeth of terrific seas. Boy, are they ever huge green ones. Going on watch at 10:00 p.m., I stood for a few minutes by the wheelhouse which is all of 20 feet above the water line, and looked straight up at mountainous seas that made our little corvette seem very insignificant indeed—I hung on for dear life as I made my way in pitch dark with the roaring gales tearing at me every foot of the way, up to the bridge. How can anyone know what a night like this is at sea who has never actually experienced it.⁸⁵

Sometimes when we study history we focus on the big picture of military campaigns and strategy, and lose sight of the “little” picture: the toll on each man and woman who has to implement those strategies. The life of the corvette sailor is a reminder of the individual sacrifice and hardship endured for years by thousands during the Battle of the Atlantic. Their struggle gives special meaning to the words of the “Navy Hymn”:

Eternal Father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd’st the mighty ocean deep its own appointed limits keep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee, for those in peril on the sea!⁸⁶

They saw the works of the Lord, his wonderful deeds in the deep. For he spoke and stirred up a tempest that lifted high the waves.

—Psalm 107:24–25

March 3 The Old Sailing Rule

Frank Curry continued his harrowing account of rescuing a torpedoed ship in the Gulf of St. Lawrence during a winter storm:

Terrible seas still running as we pounded our way into them. We are bouncing all over creation. Somehow we found the merchant ship at 0200 of the wildest darkest night imaginable, and got a line aboard her. Headed slowly back to Sydney from close to St. Paul’s Island. It is rougher than I ever dreamt the ocean could be. Our mess decks are knee-deep in bitterly cold sea water, everything possible is afloat from spilled tins of jam to best uniforms, hats, sea-biscuits, letters and books. No one gives it a second thought—for it seems all-important to think of survival. Arms and legs and joints are screaming for even a moment’s relaxation from the jarring and pitching and beating. One has to go back to the old sailing rule of one hand for the ship, one hand for yourself, particularly on the upper deck where one false move means the end.⁸⁷

The “old sailing rule” originated with an old salt who wisely realized that aboard ship the best intentions are useless if you get injured or lost at sea because you neglected the violent movements of the ship itself. No matter the importance of the task at hand, you have to first make sure that you are physically secure in your surroundings. This is a great analogy for our spiritual lives. Our spiritual anchor point is our Savior, Jesus Christ. We always have to have one hand out for him, to support us and guide us as we tackle the vexing problems of our daily lives. Without him, we will be battered by our problems and lost in our spiritual journey.

He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

—Mark 4:40–41

March 4 A Child’s Perspective

In March 1943 eleven-year-old Joan Corbin wrote to her uncle, Walter Kellogg, serving aboard ship in the North Atlantic:

Dear Uncle Joe:

Is it fun on your boat? I hope so. I am in Maryland but am going home very soon. It’s very warm; 70 degrees today! We waded in the woods even! I have made lips here. Mine! I have kissed them. You kiss them too. The love will carry. I hope you will come home safely. I am telling God to keep you in His grace. Please remember me. I won’t forget you, or the job you are doing for your country.

Love, Joanie⁸⁸

I’m sure it was best that little Joanie didn’t know the details of her uncle’s service at sea. In fact, this is one of the main objectives of all servicemen in war, to protect their loved ones, especially the children, at home. It is also refreshing to hear a child’s perspective on some things that we take so seriously as adults.

During my time in Vietnam, we received many letters from grade school children. Their honesty and naivete were always uplifting. It is wonderful to catch glimpses of their perspective on the world, especially the innocence and wonder that we too often lose as adults. We know that Jesus honored the children and that he exhorts us to maintain a childlike attitude. This doesn’t mean that we stop thinking or reasoning. It does mean that our faith has to be simple and complete, as a child’s love of a parent or an uncle at sea.

Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.

—Mark 10:14

March 5 Armed Guard

In 1941 my thirty-six-year-old father was a businessman in Conway, South Carolina. He wanted to join the war effort and went to great lengths to go on active duty with some military service. Finally successful in obtaining