Some names evoke strong, iconic images. John Wayne. Ronald Reagan. George Patton. But the following story is not one of them, but it should - and does once you know of his courageous actions during World War II (WW II).
He was born in Lynchburg, Virginia, to a carpenter father and shoe factory worker mother. With parents like that, perhaps it is not a surprise that he grew to be a very religious man. To him, religion was not something you did once a week. Rather, religion was something you lived. His religion flowed through every cell of his body. It sustained him during times of trouble and gave him courage to do the things that needed to be done.
Growing up during this period was not easy. It was the time of the Great Depression and his parents were so poor that he had to scrounge bits and pieces from a dump to build himself a bicycle. His ingenuity and resourcefulness to make do with what you had would also come in handy one day.
When the storm clouds of war rained down on Pearl Harbor and it became time to serve his country, he, like the others of his generation, willing followed the call into the Army to enlist and begin his training. But this was a different kind of man.
During training at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, at the end of the day, he would quietly drop on bended knees, next to his bunk, to pray to God. To thank Him for His protection and to ask for His strength during the coming months. As events would prove, he would need both, in abundance.
What did his fellow trainees think of this? They scoffed, cursed, and taunted him. They hurled all manner of cruelty towards him. One even threatened, when they were to face actual combat, to kill him first.
Still, not only did he continue to pray daily to God, but his religious beliefs prevented him from violating the Sabbath by training on that holy day because the 10 Commandments said to honor God's day of rest. He also refused to learn how to kill others as he had entered the military as a "conscientious objector" and because those same 10 Commandments prohibited him from taking the lives of others.
Things got so bad that, eventually, his commanding officer began the paper work to declare him "unsuitable for military service" and to remove him under what is known as a Section 8 discharge. This, even though he performed all other duties assigned to him with dedication. This, even though, as a medic, he could save lives, rather than take them. But this man of God would not, could not, sign a document he knew to be untrue. So, in the Army he stayed.
Once deployed, his actions, in combat, immediately brought him fame. However, it was during the period of 29 April to 21 May, 1945, that this man was involved in the some of the bloodiest battles on one of the bloodiest islands in the Pacific - Okinawa. The very name of the island sends chills through the hearts of those who fought there. Strong men have been known to cry, when recalling how their comrades died on that battle field.
The Battle of Okinawa is described as the largest amphibious assault during the entire Pacific campaign of WW II. Almost 19,000 US troops were killed and 72,000 were wounded. This astounding number is double the number killed on Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal, combined. On the Japanese side, an estimated 100,000 were killed. The Battle of Okinawa turned out the be the last major battle of the war before Japan eventually surrendered a few months later.
It was during this battle that this son of a carpenter, a member of what is rightly called the Greatest Generation, this man of God by the name of Desmond Thomas Doss proved his worth to his fellow soldiers:
He was a company aid man when the 1st Battalion assaulted a jagged escarpment 400 feet high. As our troops gained the summit, a heavy concentration of artillery, mortar and machinegun fire crashed into them, inflicting approximately 75 casualties and driving the others back. Pfc. Doss refused to seek cover and remained in the fire-swept area with the many stricken, carrying them 1 by 1 to the edge of the escarpment and there lowering them on a rope-supported litter down the face of a cliff to friendly hands.
On 2 May, he exposed himself to heavy rifle and mortar fire in rescuing a wounded man 200 yards forward of the lines on the same escarpment; and 2 days later he treated 4 men who had been cut down while assaulting a strongly defended cave, advancing through a shower of grenades to within 8 yards of enemy forces in a cave's mouth, where he dressed his comrades' wounds before making 4 separate trips under fire to evacuate them to safety.
On 5 May, he unhesitatingly braved enemy shelling and small arms fire to assist an artillery officer. He applied bandages, moved his patient to a spot that offered protection from small arms fire and, while artillery and mortar shells fell close by, painstakingly administered plasma. Later that day, when an American was severely wounded by fire from a cave, Pfc. Doss crawled to him where he had fallen 25 feet from the enemy position, rendered aid, and carried him 100 yards to safety while continually exposed to enemy fire.
On 21 May, in a night attack on high ground near Shuri, he remained in exposed territory while the rest of his company took cover, fearlessly risking the chance that he would be mistaken for an infiltrating Japanese and giving aid to the injured until he was himself seriously wounded in the legs by the explosion of a grenade.
Rather than call another aid man from cover, he cared for his own injuries and waited 5 hours before litter bearers reached him and started carrying him to cover. The trio was caught in an enemy tank attack and Pfc. Doss, seeing a more critically wounded man nearby, crawled off the litter; and directed the bearers to give their first attention to the other man.
Awaiting the litter bearers' return, he was again struck, this time suffering a compound fracture of 1 arm. With magnificent fortitude he bound a rifle stock to his shattered arm as a splint and then crawled 300 yards over rough terrain to the aid station. Through his outstanding bravery and unflinching determination in the face of desperately dangerous conditions Pfc. Doss saved the lives of many soldiers. His name became a symbol throughout the 77th Infantry Division for outstanding gallantry far above and beyond the call of duty.
Mr. Doss, died last week Thursday at the age of 87. He was the first (and so far, one of only two) conscientious objectors to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor (the other recipient being Thomas W. Bennett, who was an Army medical aidman during the Vietnam War). Our thoughts and prayers go out to his friends and family. May he rest in peace.
Aloha!
