Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.
John 15:13
On the evening of Feb. 2, 1943, the U.S.A.T. Dorchester was crowded to capacity, carrying 902 servicemen, merchant seamen and civilian workers.
Once a luxury coastal liner, the 5,649-ton vessel had been converted into an Army transport ship. The Dorchester, one of three ships in the SG-19 convoy, was moving steadily across the icy waters from Newfoundland toward an American base in Greenland. SG-19 was escorted by Coast Guard Cutters Tampa, Escanaba and Comanche.
Hans J. Danielsen, the ship's captain, was concerned and cautious. Earlier the Tampa had detected a submarine with its sonar. Danielsen knew he was in dangerous waters even before he got the alarming information. German U-boats were constantly prowling these vital sea lanes, and several ships had already been struck in night and sunk.
Only 150 miles from their destination, Captain Danielson ordered the men to sleep in their clothing and keep life jackets on. Asleep deep in the ship’s hold, most of the soldiers disregarded the order because of the heat generated by the massive engines. Others ignored it because the life jackets were uncomfortable.
Barely an hour past midnight, on Feb. 3, a periscope broke the chilly Atlantic waters. Through the cross hairs, an officer aboard the German submarine U-223 spotted the Dorchester. After identifying and targeting the ship, he gave orders to fire the torpedoes. The hit was decisive, and deadly, striking the starboard side, amid ship, far below the water line.
Captain Danielsen, immediately aware that the Dorchester was rapidly taking on water and sinking, gave the order to abandon ship. Tragically, the hit had knocked out power and radio contact with the three escort ships. The CGC Comanche, however, saw the flash of the explosion. It responded and then rescued 97 survivors. The CGC Escanaba circled the Dorchester, rescuing an additional 132 survivors. The third cutter, CGC Tampa, continued on, escorting the remaining two ships.
Aboard the Dorchester, panic and chaos had set in. The blast instantly killed scores of men, and many more were seriously wounded. Others, stunned by the explosion were groping in total darkness. Those sleeping without clothing rushed topside where they were confronted first by a blast of icy Arctic air and then by the knowledge that certain death awaited them in the water.
Men jumped from the ship into lifeboats, over-crowding them to the point of capsizing. Other rafts, tossed into the Atlantic, drifted away before soldiers could climb on board.
Also on board that night were four Army chaplains: Lt. George L. Fox, Methodist; Lt. Alexander D. Goode, Jewish; Lt. John P. Washington, Roman Catholic; and Lt. Clark V. Poling, Dutch Reformed.
Quickly and quietly the four chaplains spread out among the soldiers. There they tried to calm the frightened, tend the wounded and guide the disoriented toward safety.
"Witnesses of that terrible night remember hearing the four men offer prayers for the dying and encouragement for those who would live," says Wyatt R. Fox, son of Reverend Fox.
One witness, Private William B. Bednar, found himself floating in oil-smeared water surrounded by dead bodies and debris. "I could hear men crying, pleading, praying," Bednar recalls. "I could also hear the chaplains preaching courage. Their voices were the only thing that kept me going."
Another sailor, Petty Officer John J. Mahoney, tried to reenter his cabin but was stopped by Rabbi Goode. Mahoney, concerned about the cold Arctic air, explained he had forgotten his gloves. "Never mind," Goode responded. "I have two pairs." The rabbi then gave the petty officer his own gloves. Later, Mahoney realized that Rabbi Goode was not conveniently carrying two pairs of gloves, and that the rabbi had decided not to leave the Dorchester.
By this time, most of the men were topside, and the chaplains opened a storage locker and began distributing life jackets. When there were no more lifejackets in the storage room, the chaplains removed theirs and gave them to four frightened young men.
"It was the finest thing I have seen or hope to see this side of heaven," said John Ladd, another survivor.
When last seen all four Chaplains were arm in arm, braced against the tilting ship’s railing. As the sea rolled over them, they offered prayers for the men
The Dorchester disappeared beneath the waves.
Less than 27 minutes had passed between the torpedoes hit and the Dorchester’s sinking. Of the 902 men aboard the U.S.A.T. Dorchester, 672 died, leaving 230 survivors. It was the third largest loss of life in American Naval warfare during WWII. When the news reached American shores, the nation was stunned by the magnitude of the tragedy and heroic conduct of the four chaplains.
On December 19, 1944, The Distinguished Service Cross and Purple Heart were awarded posthumously to the next of kin of the Four Chaplains.
Congress wished to confer the Medal of Honor to the four men, but was blocked by the stringent requirements which required heroism performed under fire. A posthumous Special Medal for Heroism was authorized by Congress and awarded by President Eisenhower in January 1961. This medal, intended to bestow the same importance and honor of the Medal of Honor, had never been given before and is never to be given again.
You might be thinking that you will never be in a situation like this, that you will never have the means to save someone. Please think again. Right now, you have the means to give anyone suffering without hope an eternal rescue. Jesus on the cross is our life-jacket and today is the day we must take a stand and gently give Him to those in peril.
Today’s Prayer
Lord, let the stories of heroism and courage inspire me to do your will every day. I know you will guide me, lift me up and strengthen me even in the face of danger. You alone are my savior. And it is for You alone that I will carry your message of eternal life to all those in need your salvation. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
