“The Finest Thing This Side of Heaven”, a sermon about the 4 heroic Chaplains of the Dorchester Chaplain (LTC-Ret) Bob Leroe, Cliftondale Congregational Church, Saugus, Massachusetts
The year was 1943. The USS Dorchester, a ship that once was a luxury liner, had been pressed into service and refitted. On January 22nd, the second winter of the war, it was ready to serve as a troop transport and cargo ship, staffed by a merchant marine crew of 130 men. 751 soldiers came aboard and settled in berths below, stacked four-high, heading out to the cold North Atlantic as part of a convoy of freighters, tankers, and Coast Guard cutters.
Four Chaplains came aboard, all First Lieutenants: George Fox (Methodist), Alexander Goode (Jewish), John Washington (Catholic) and Clark Poling (Reformed). Fr. Washington was from an Irish Catholic family in Newark NJ. At age 12, he miraculously recovered from a nearly fatal throat infection. He told his sister, “God must have something special for me to do.” Rabbi Goode was a 3rd-generation Rabbi. At age 10 at Arlington Cemetery he saw the WWI Unknown Soldier laid to rest. When the US entered the war Goode left his synagogue in York PA and reported for duty. Clark Poling gave up a law career in Michigan to enter seminary. When he completed his training and was ordained, he served for a while at the First Reformed Church of Schenectady, NY. When the war came, he was married, with a 2-year old son, and his wife was expecting another. Poling wrote his father, “Don’t pray for my safe return. Pray that I do my duty.” George Fox was a decorated WWI veteran. After the war he served several Methodist churches in Vermont as a “circuit-rider”. When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor he told his wife, “I must go. I know what these boys are facing.”
The moment these four met onboard they became instant friends, and from that time forward were always seen together. This was before the days of ecumenism, yet these military clergy were inseparable, bound by a mission to serve God and country, with the understanding that the concept of one’s “congregation” goes beyond church lines.
Aboard the Dorchester, Captain Danielson cautiously ordered the men to sleep in their clothing, with life jackets close at hand. Nazi submarines and U-boats were on the prowl. During the day, they were under air cover from the US base at Greenland. During the passage daily alerts and drills were conducted on board. And as is the case during war, attendance at worship services continued to steadily grow. In addition to services, to boost morale and stave off boredom, the Chaplains organized a talent show, and it turned out they were part of the show. Soldiers played guitar, bagpipes and piano. There were sing-alongs and solos
The chaplains spent much of their time doing “ministry of presence”, having informal conversations, doing “footlocker counseling” with the troops and visiting the sick. They tried to break the tension of the voyage. Ch Washington came upon a poker game and a soldier at the table asked, “Father would you bless my hand? Washington took a peek, then answered, “What? Waste a blessing on a measly pair of deuces?” A few days later, a seasick soldier said to him, “Father, if you really want to do some good, get me out on deck so I can jump overboard.” The priest gave him some soda crackers for his seasickness and convinced him to join him in a game of cards.
As officers, the Chaplains knew the destination, but this classified information had been withheld from the troops, although rumors were abounding. One soldier tried to get the Rabbi to reveal where they were going. Pledged to operational security, Ch Goode replied, “Why spoil the surprise?” However, when the Dorchester docked in St. John’s, Newfoundland, everyone correctly guessed that the convoy was headed for Greenland, and passing through what was called “torpedo junction”.
As the ships journeyed north through gale-force winds, the sonar picked up the presence of a submarine. It was February 3rd, and the soldiers were in their bunks, but few could sleep. The heat of the hold, and fear, kept them awake. Then at 3:58 am, 15 miles from their destination, a periscope from a German U-456 caught the Dorchester in its cross hairs, and fired, hitting the lower midsection of the ship on the starboard side. The hit was deadly and decisive. PFC John Garey was just coming off guard duty and was on his way to the galley for coffee. He heard a thump and then felt the deck lurch under his feet. “What’s going on?”, he yelled to the mess sergeant. The cook answered, “We’ve been hit!” Panicked men started pouring up from the bowels of the ship, stunned and disoriented. The smell of ammonia filled the air from burst refrigerator pipes. The Dorchester began listing to starboard.
No one sent up a distress flare, so most of the other vessels in the convoy were unaware that the Dorchester had been hit. The power was knocked out and the ship was unable to make radio contact with the escort ships. Two of them, the Comanche and the Esconaba, saw the flash of the explosion and were able to rescue 230 troops. The testimony of survivors reveals that the only order in this chaos came from the four chaplains, who immediately appeared on the sloping starboard side. Through the pandemonium, they calmly quieted the men and guided them to their boat stations; they opened a storage locker and distributed life jackets.
Private William Bednar was floating in the oil-polluted water, surrounded by debris and dead bodies. He was close enough to the ship to hear his fellow soldiers crying, praying, and swearing. But he said, “I could also hear the chaplains preaching courage.” Bednar managed to get onto a life raft. He said, “The voices of the chaplains were the only thing that kept me going.” The four offered prayers for the dying and encouragement for those who would live.
Coast Guardsman John Mahoney realized he’d forgotten his gloves and started back to his bunk. Ch Goode stopped him and said, “Never mind—I have two pairs.” Mahoney later realized that a man about to abandon ship doesn’t carry extra gloves. Rabbi Goode had already decided he wasn’t leaving the Dorchester. Mahoney later reported, “Without the Chaplain’s gloves my fingers would have frozen stiff. I would have never made it. I owe my life to Chaplain Goode.”
The four chaplains handed out life vests until there were no more left. Then they gave away their own. They didn’t call out for soldiers from their own faith groups; they just handed them to the next soldier in line. Engineer Grady Clark slipped into the water and swam for a lifeboat. He looked back at the ship and could see the chaplains standing with their arms linked, braced against the slanting aft deck. They were praying. There was no sense of panic, just words of prayer in Latin, Hebrew, and English.
Finally, about a half hour after being hit, the stern came high out of the water, and the Dorchester sank into the sea. Of the 904 men aboard, 605 lost their lives. The survivors never forgot the Chaplains’ heroism. Survivor John Ladd said: “It was the finest thing I have ever seen, or hope to see, this side of heaven.”
I’ve known this story of bravery and sacrifice my entire military career. When I attended the Chaplain School at Fort Monmouth, I saw in the museum a life preserver from the Dorchester. I can’t begin to tell you the emotions that went through me as I stood before that glass case. I recently heard a program on NPR while driving, in which survivors from the Dorchester, and even a German sailor from the submarine that sank the Dorchester, were interviewed. I reached my destination and stayed in the car, listening.
Carl Sandburg once said, “Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it until the test comes.” For their sacrificial bravery, the four Chaplains were posthumously awarded the Distinguished Service Cross and Purple Heart, along with a special Congressional Medal for Heroism, minted exclusively for these four men. In 1951 at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, President Truman dedicated the Chapel of the Four Chaplains, a non-denominational sanctuary dedicated to promote interfaith cooperation and respect. Inside are 3 altars, Catholic, Protestant, and Jewish, in honor of our nation’s respect for religious diversity and our privilege of free exercise. The four Chaplains were also depicted on a 1948 commemorative postage stamp.
As we celebrate (the birth of our country, Veterans Day, Memorial Day), one founded upon the principles of liberty, we are reminded that freedom isn’t free—we enjoy the blessings of liberty because of the sacrifices of those who were willing to take a stand for their country.
As Christians, we know that we are set free from the penalty of sin by the sacrifice of Christ. He represented us on the cross and died in our behalf. Jesus said, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (Jn 8:36). And as our text indicates, “Greater love has no one than this, that a man would lay down his life for his friends” (Jn 15:13). We in turn, are called to total commitment. Paul the Apostle states, “Offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Rom 12:2).
