Battleship ministers

[ABOVE: Admiral David Farragut, 1855/1865 (restored)—Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division cwpbh 01049 / public domain, Wikimedia Commons]

On January 23, 1943, a storm was brewing in the North Atlantic.

Four US Army chaplains—George Lansing Fox, a Methodist; Alex Goode, a Jewish chaplain; Clark Poling of the Reformed Church; and John Washington, a Roman Catholic—had boarded the US Army Transport Dorchester, in Brooklyn, New York. They, with 597 military comrades and 171 civilians, were shipping out to air bases in Greenland. After a brief stop in St. John’s, Newfoundland, the Dorchester joined a slow, small convoy of two freighters and three US Coast Guard escorts for the final leg of the journey.

Then the storm hit. The worst seen in the region in 50 years, the tempest raged against the convoy and damaged the Dorchester. Injured and sickened crewmen fought against the barrage of wind and waves. While the chaplains had been able to conduct their typical duties in the first part of their voyage, they now had a more urgent ministry—tending to the battered crew.

Just after the storm let up, and less than a day from their destination, the Dorchester received word that U-boats were pursuing the convoy. The chaplains spent the afternoon and evening performing divine services and leading music to keep morale up. Well into the night, they visited the troops in their rooms.

At 12:55 a.m. on February 3, just nine hours from arriving in Greenland, the first torpedo from German U-boat U-223 hit the Dorchester just under the waterline, ripping a gash in the hull. As Dan Kurzman puts it in his chronicle of this event in No Greater Glory, the lifesaving equipment on board “could accommodate 1,286 persons, more than enough space to save the 900 people—if terror, temperature, and inadequate training had not dictated disaster.”

Amid the panic, the chaplains stayed aboard on the deck of the sinking ship rendering aid. They lovingly coaxed and urgently compelled the men to do the only thing that could save their lives—abandon ship. They distributed life jackets to the willing and forced them on the unwilling. Not only did they give up their own life jackets, they also gave up articles of their clothing to the men who were preparing to enter the 34-degree water. Survivors aboard the rafts watched as the ship slid under the water at 1:20 a.m. with all four chaplains still aboard. They ministered to those still aboard whose fear kept them paralyzed as the ship went down.

These four brave men represent the selfless service of innumerable chaplains at sea and serve as only one story among many. In the earliest months of World War II, for example, a comparable scene played out when Chaplain George Snavely Rentz, serving on the Houston in the Battle of Java, gave up his lifebelt and seat in a life raft for a young seaman. For this he became the only navy chaplain in World War II to receive the honor of the Navy Cross.

Though these episodes would draw the public’s attention to the role of chaplains at sea, the ministry of the military chaplain goes largely unseen except by shipmates. Indeed the day-in, day-out work is often less memorable. But for sailors during wartime, the work is vital.

ROCK AND TEMPEST, FIRE AND FOE

Seafaring has always included a military dimension. As nations harness the power and resources of the world’s waterways, they require a seaborne military to defend or extend their use of these waters. Consequently each nation’s seafarers confront the power of both nature and of other nations’ military might. These sailors face, in the words of the naval hymn, “rock and tempest, fire, and foe” (see p. 35). In light of these dangers, Christian chaplains on military vessels serve a consistent need. Since the very inception of the American navy in 1775, for example, chaplains have ministered aboard its warships. The second article of the regulations for the Continental navy reads:

The Commanders of the ships of the thirteen United Colonies, are to take care that divine service be performed twice a day on board, and a sermon preached on Sundays, unless bad weather or other extraordinary accidents prevent.

Conducting divine services has remained the chaplain’s central role.

“TO PRAYERS, YOU RASCALS!”

Certain aspects of these services have changed over time. The call of the crew to worship, for example, has come in many forms: bugle, band, drum, ship’s bell, public address system announcement. In times when attendance at worship was required, the call was more like an order. Henry Melville noted that boatswain-mates often had to drive men to the services: “Go to prayers, d- -n you! To prayers, you rascals—to prayers!”

Over the centuries, however, one element of divine services aboard US Navy ships has not changed: hoisting of the church pennant directly above the US flag, or ensign, for the duration of the service. Though the custom stretches back earlier, the first known order to display the church pennant is that of Admiral David Farragut on the flagship Hartford in 1862, during the Civil War:

Eleven o’clock this morning is the hour appointed for all the officers and crews of the fleet to return thanks to Almighty God for His great goodness and mercy in permitting us to pass through the events of the last two days with so little loss of life and blood. At that hour the church pennant will be hoisted on every vessel of the fleet, and their crews assembled will, in humiliation and prayer, make their acknowledgments therefore to the great Dispenser of all human events.

This practice was codified first in the navy’s signal books and then in US law by congressional action in 1942.

The other duties of navy chaplains reflect their pastoral role, such as caring for those in sick bay and the brig and offering guidance and comfort in the shadow of death. Chaplains have been central to the cherished naval tradition of burial at sea. Just as with military funerals ashore, the deceased’s service to the nation is honored with salutes, flag placement, sounding of taps, and rifle volleys.

At sea this honor is also rendered by stopping the ship and lowering its ensign to half-mast. The nature of the divine service itself differs in accordance with the traditions of the officiant and the deceased. Officiants of Christian burials, whether chaplains or commanding officers, will typically offer a prayer while committing the body to the deep, expressing faith in the resurrection of that body when the sea shall give up her dead.

Intertwined with their ministerial duties, navy chaplains have also had a role in supporting the crew’s morale and welfare. It was Chaplain Wesley O. Holway, for example, who introduced physical drill into the navy in the late nineteenth century when the tasks aboard steamships required less physical activity than did those on sailing ships. For many years (especially before the establishment of the United States Naval Academy in 1845), chaplains’ duties included overseeing the educational needs of the crew in both religious and nonreligious subjects, such as navigation, reading, writing, arithmetic, and geography.

ADVISORS AND COUNSELORS

While a chaplain holds a unique position of influence with the crew, the ship’s commanding officer sets the climate. At times commanding officers have taken a direct hand in supporting their chaplains’ work or, when a chaplain was not present, leading the crew’s spiritual welfare themselves. During the Civil War, for example, the Rhode Island was known as the “Gospel Gunboat” because its commander, Stephen Deacatur Trenchard, conducted divine services himself.

Under current regulations, chaplains are expected to advise those in command on, among other things, “command climate” and “punishment, discipline, and the potential for rehabilitation.” Whether specified in regulations or not, chaplains have traditionally served in this role aboard ship and have influenced changes in naval policies in matters that were detrimental to the crew’s health. With chaplains’ influence, for example, corporal punishment such as flogging was outlawed in 1850, and the daily rationing of grog (whiskey diluted with water) was outlawed in 1862.

Ministry to sailors during conflict, however, provided navy chaplains their unique reason for being. In its 1859 defense of armed forces chaplaincy, the House Judiciary Committee reported that

The spirit of Christianity has ever had a tendency to mitigate the rigors of war, if as yet it has not been entirely able to prevent it; to lead to acts of charity and kindness; and to humanize the heart.

The navy regulations of 1893 codified the long-standing reality that “the chaplain’s duty in battle is to aid the wounded.” Serving those in combat—as aboard the Dorchester—puts chaplains in harm’s way as well. Chaplain John L. Lenhart was the first navy chaplain to die in combat when the Union vessel Cumberland was rammed and sunk by the Confederate vessel CSS Virginia in 1862. In the attack on Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941, Chaplains A. H. Schmitt and T. L. Kirkpatrick would be the first chaplains of any branch to die in World War II, and Chaplain R. C. Hohenstein would be the first wounded on that same day.

In times of war and peace, chaplains have brought the hope and faith of Christ and his church onboard to the sailors of the armed forces facing peril on the sea. CH