Stories of Faith and Courage from World War II

I cannot help but feel that there was something bigger than luck riding with us that day. The fact that we were able to stay with the formation until there were no enemy fighters around, and the fact that our escort arrived shortly afterward might be explained by luck, but when that rescue boat appeared on our course, at just the right moment, I was sure that the Omnipotent was guiding us that day especially. I cannot help but feel, too, that a greater hand than mine or Bob’s was on the controls when The Old Squaw sat down in the Channel. The captain of the rescue boat told us one last thing which made us thank God for our safety. If we had landed a few miles to the south, we would have been caught in dangerous rip tides. If we had landed a few miles to the north, we would have been in the minefields… that particular area was the only place where we could have done so safely.²⁶⁹

Many things had to go right for this crew to survive such a disastrous mission. Even though each detail had a logical explanation in itself, these men saw a miraculous pattern in these details and experienced a deepening of their faith as a result. We always have the same choice. We can accept the logical explanations and even the role of luck in our lives, or we can look more deeply for evidence of God’s guiding hand. We know that God created an intricately designed and beautiful universe that we can rightly consider miraculous. Sometimes it takes a child’s eyes and sense of wonder to see the miraculous in our own lives.

No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him.

—1 Corinthians 2:9

July 8 Better Off Angry

It was comforting to see the fighter escort nearby, but, unfortunately, they would not be there long. As the

Luscious Lady flew further into France, Merlin Miller became more and more nervous at his tail-gun position. This was his second raid on Schweinfurt, deep in German territory, and he knew it would probably be as bad as the first. Alone with his thoughts, there wasn’t much to do other than anticipate what lay ahead. As the escorting P-47s peeled off, he went through a familiar mental exercise:

I said to myself, ‘Merlin, get mad, get angry.’ I started thinking about the Germans, what they were trying to do to us, what I was going to do to them, anything to stir up my blood and get anger coursing through my system, anything to take away from that feeling of fear I otherwise would have had. By this time I figured out that it was difficult for a person to feel two emotions at the same time. In combat I thought I was better off being angry than afraid.²⁷⁰

This airman’s strategy for dealing with fear was effective, and it is not uncommon to see athletes use the same approach as they try to get “psyched up” for a big game. However, we should consider war and football the exceptions rather the rule. Anger is usually a destructive emotion and counterproductive to solving our problems. It is always a bad idea to take action against others when upset. We need to be especially careful when we find ourselves with feelings of anger toward God. He is not the cause of our problems, but rather the solution. We are usually the problem. In our relationship with him, we are better off being afraid than angry.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; all who follow his precepts have good understanding. To him belongs eternal praise.

—Psalm 111:10

July 9 Hogie and Wac

My twin uncles were pilot and copilot of a B-26 medium bomber. They took off from Rougham, England, on May 17, 1943, to bomb a power plant in Holland, and, with the rest of their entire squadron, never returned. Edward and Arthur Norton, nicknamed “Hogie” and “Wac” were the proud sons of my mother’s parents, pioneers of aviation in the small town of Conway, South Carolina, and hometown heroes. They left Clemson College in 1941 to join the Army Air Corps, seeking to answer the call of a nation at war and to pursue their love of flying. At their own insistence, they were together in the same airplane. The deaths of these promising young men was a tragedy for an entire community and my family.

My grandmother was the daughter of a minister and a lifelong pillar of the Presbyterian Church. She made sure her family was well grounded in the Christian faith and faithful in their Christian duties. Even so, this event was a blow that she and my grandfather felt forever after. When the war was over, they sent a poem to be read at a memorial service for another pilot who died with their sons. It captures the devastation that they felt, but also a determination to find a higher meaning in the tragedy:

As we trail the weary pathway down the sunset slope of life
As we pass through grievous shadows in this war torn world of strife.
Then our thoughts turn slowly backward to a better, brighter day
When we were building castles and watching you at play.
We had dreams and hopes and visions for your busy little feet
Now we know those dreams and visions never-more your lives shall meet.
And now lonely, sad and stricken our one debt to you is plain
To prove that your great sacrifice shall not have been in vain.
So tis us you left behind you who must carry on
Take up the fight you died for till the last great battle’s won.
And to you we pledge our promise in the peace that is to be
That we shall never falter that the whole world may be free.²⁷¹

The righteous perish, and no one ponders it in his heart; devout men are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil. Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death.

—Isaiah 57:12

July 10 The Weaver

Bert Ramsey was killed in 1943 when his B-26 medium bomber collided with another aircraft during a low- level attack on a power plant in Holland. A Dutch family buried him there, and his parents later held a memorial