Combat Chaplain

Four Back to Serious Busines

47 WHEN THE story of the chaplain of the 100th was interrupted by the two flashbacks to Pearl Harbor, the day was October 23, 1943, and the hour was noon. My diary records the rest of the day’s events thus. Ate K ration and came to front: walked last half of the way; went to Battalion Aid. In p.m. talked with shell-shocked boy. Helped carry out wounded men. Shells landed close; snipers fired two shots close; machine gun stray bullets close. Talked with men as they were put in ambulance. Received twenty letters, Peg’s two copies of birth certificate of Chris. Ate C ration and Kome and I slept alongside haystack. Dr. Kawasaki complimented me on my work. Colonel Turner rightly scolded me for tripping on communication wire. By this time I had established a definite pattern of life during combat: assist the medics in the battalion aid station as long as enough litter bearers were available to bring in the wounded; go forward as a litter bearer whenever needed; in lulls between skirmishes, circulate among the men in their dug-in positions, whenever this was possible without my movements drawing fire from the enemy; direct the evacuation of our own KIAs and, when possible, supervise the burial on the spot of the German dead; counsel with any GIs who were disturbed, usually at the battalion aid; set an example of cheerfulness and of faith in all my contacts with the men and officers. I always carried my Bible in my musette pack, a small Lutheran Common Service Book in a hip pocket, and stationery and envelopes in my map case. Almost every day I read a chapter of the Bible and wrote a letter to my wife. As a litter bearer I normally replaced two of the Nisei because I was so much bigger than most of them; downhill I placed the front handles on my shoulders and two of the AJAs carried the rear. Until December 12, 1943, I kept a small diary of each day’s events. F O U R Back to Serious Business 48 COMBAT CHAPLAIN Here is the entry for October 24. Sunday, Oct. 24. Wrote Peg and Mother. Ate C ration. Came to battalion aid; things quiet. Had brief service at battalion aid and communed four men (one Mormon, one Catholic). Washed socks. Gave out all religious tracts I had to men in positions. Had “gully service” for seven men. Got detail of four men to get out bodies. Brought Yoneyama up and he almost ran over an Italian man when a shell fell close. Slept in house near San Angelo. The V-Mail letter I sent to my wife on this day was important to me. Letter #35 October 24, 1943 Sunday Morning Dearest, dearest Mine, The two copies of the wonderful news of Chris’s birth details arrived yesterday along with other letters I shall read today. But the two copies I read last night in the fading light. My heart was thrilled as I read how beautifully God arranged for Chris to come. Only the word of the unbearable pain hurt me. But what nicer for us, Chris, and Mother; how pleased I am that she could do the delivering; how pleased I am that you could experience it all, and so calmly. All these good things make up (almost) for my not being there. I shall also write the doctor to relieve his feelings. I like him really; I think things happened as they did for our good. My heart shall sing high praise to God our Father all this Lord’s day, Peggy Sweet; how unsearchable are the ways of His goodness to our little family! By sticking to my job I believe I’ve won my men and officers to a deep respect for the chaplain. Pray God continue His grace and strength that I may continue to do the whole job over here as He would have me do it. God willing we shall soon be one again and then we shall live to the full the glorious life of those who trust our Lord (almost) completely. God bless us all. Your adoring Israel It was a Sunday when Peggy began to feel labor pains; the physician, who had been alerted earlier in the day, could not be located. My mother came immediately and, in the absence of the doctor, delivered our son. Mother had assisted at other births and knew what...