A Memorial Day story: ‘Four chaplains. Two faiths. One God.’

The closest I’ve ever come to giving my life for my country was on May 6, 2009.

I was on board a chartered DC-10 with 168 troops returning from Iraq, when our plane bounced three times along a runway in Baltimore. Our pilot aborted the landing and went around for another attempt.

As we gained altitude, we discovered several injuries among the passengers. Parts of the plane were strewn on the runway as well as about the cabin. People were crying, praying and cursing. I was doing all three.

Nevertheless, as a chaplain, I knew my job had just gone active. I joined hands with a few of the tearful ones around me. My own prayer was that if I were to die, I hoped I would die in the courageous tradition of the “Four Chaplains” of World War II.
In the winter of 1943, these four chaplains were also on board a public transport. They were sailing in the USS Dorchester, a 5,649-ton luxury liner converted into a U.S. Army troopship. The ship was heavy with more than 900 men and it fell behind its escort off the Greenland coast.

Gale-force winds made for a nauseating voyage, according to later reports. Fortunately, among those doing their best to alleviate the discomfort were four chaplains: Father John Washington, the Rev. Clark Poling, Rabbi Alexander Goode and the Rev. George Fox.

Like a lot of chaplains on ships, they pulled double duty as activity directors. They organized sing-alongs and talent shows, but mostly they took confessions and held worship services, no matter what their faith.

On the evening of Feb. 2, 1943, the ship’s captain, concerned over the sightings of three enemy submarines, instructed passengers to wear life jackets to bed. Deep in the ship, the engine heat and overwhelming claustrophobia, made it too uncomfortable for those sleeping in the lower decks to follow the order.

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