Chaplain (Cpt) Kapaun to be awarded the Medal of Honor (Posthumosly) 11 Apr 2013

[agonyea]

At last this Chaplain is finally getting his award here on earth:
Chaplain to get Medal of Honor posthumously

http://www.*********.com/news/2013/0...ously-031113w/


Staff report
Posted : Monday Mar 11, 2013 16:45:58 EDT



Chaplain (Capt.) Emil J. Kapaun, a World War II and Korean War veteran who repeatedly sacrificed his own safety to care for his fellow soldiers, will be honored April 11 with the nation’s highest award for valor.

The White House announced Monday that President Obama will present the Medal of Honor to Kapaun.

Kapaun will receive the award posthumously for his extraordinary heroism while serving with 3rd Battalion, 8th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division, during combat operations in Unsan, Korea, and as a prisoner of war, according to the White House announcement.

“When Chinese Communist Forces viciously attacked friendly elements, Chaplain Kapaun calmly walked through withering enemy fire in order to provide comfort and medical aid to his comrades,” the White House statement reads.

When the soldiers were surrounded by the enemy, on Nov. 2, 1950, the able-bodied men were ordered to evacuate the area. Kapaun, “fully aware of his certain capture, elected to stay behind with the wounded,” according to the White House statement.

“As hand-to-hand combat ensued, he continued to make rounds. As enemy forces approached the American position, Chaplain Kapaun noticed an injured Chinese officer amongst the wounded and convinced him to negotiate the safe surrender of the American forces. Shortly after his capture, Chaplain Kapaun bravely pushed aside an enemy soldier preparing to execute a comrade, thus saving a life and inspiring all those present to remain and fight the enemy until captured,” the White House said.

Upon capture, Kapaun and the other prisoners of war were forced to walk more than 85 miles to the city of Pyoktong, North Korea, according to a statement from the 1st Cavalry Division.

During this march through snow and ice, Kapaun helped the wounded and encouraged other soldiers to do the same. In captivity, Kapaun snuck around to more than 200 fellow POWs to say prayers and give support. He also secretly moved able-bodied men out to the countryside at night, while avoiding the guards, to get food and firewood to help keep the prisoners alive.

Kapaun, whom fellow prisoners nicknamed the “good thief,” was a POW until he died from a blood clot on May 23, 1951.

In August 1951, Kapaun was posthumously awarded the Distinguished Service Cross; the Medal of Honor is an upgrade of that award, according to information from the 1st Cavalry Division.

[Mars]

I would imagine that if he were here today, he would tell us that he was just doing his job. I am grateful for men such as him that we're "just doing their job".

Thank you for your service, Sir!

[agonyea]

More info on this hero Chaplain:

* * *

Chaplain Emil J. Kapaun, while assigned to Headquarters Company, 8th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division, distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism, patriotism, and selfless service between Nov. 1, 1950, and May 23, 1951. During the Battle of Unsan, Kapaun was attached to the 3rd Battalion of the 8th Cavalry Regiment. As Chinese Communist forces encircled the battalion, Kapaun moved fearlessly from foxhole to foxhole under direct enemy fire in order to provide comfort and reassurance to the outnumbered Soldiers. He repeatedly crawled to wounded men and either dragged them back to the safety of the American lines, or dug shallow trenches to shield them from enemy fire. As Chinese forces closed in, Kapaun rejected several chances to escape, instead volunteering to stay behind and care for the wounded.

After he was captured, Kapaun and other prisoners marched for several days northward toward prisoner-of-war camps. During the march Kapaun led by example in caring for injured Soldiers, refusing to take a break from carrying the stretchers of the wounded while encouraging others to do their part.

Once inside the dismal prison camps, Kapaun risked his life by sneaking around the camp after dark, foraging for food, caring for the sick, and encouraging his fellow Soldiers to sustain their faith and their humanity. On at least one occasion, he was brutally punished for his disobedience, being forced to sit outside in subzero weather without any garments. When the Chinese instituted a mandatory re-education program, Kapaun patiently and politely rejected every theory put forth by the instructors. Later, Kapaun openly flouted his captors by conducting a sunrise service on Easter morning, 1951.

When Kapaun began to suffer from the physical toll of his captivity, the Chinese transferred him to a filthy, unheated hospital where he died alone. As he was being carried to the hospital, he asked God’s forgiveness for his captors, and made his fellow prisoners promise to keep their faith.

Chaplain Emil J. Kapaun repeatedly risked his own life to save the lives of hundreds of fellow Americans. His extraordinary courage, faith and leadership inspired thousands of prisoners to survive hellish conditions, resist enemy indoctrination, and retain their faith in God and country. His actions reflect the utmost credit upon him, the 1st Cavalry Division, and the United States Army.

[tooslow]

(Salutes)

[Johan]

He leads by example- so even with his death he strikes the blow against the communist scum and their dehumanizing ideology.

He is US Army Cavalryman, so I wish him the easy path to Fiddler's Green- yes?

Respectfully,

[Tracy]

Originally Posted by Johan

He leads by example- so even with his death he strikes the blow against the communist scum and their dehumanizing ideology.

He is US Army Cavalryman, so I wish him the easy path to Fiddler's Green- yes?

Respectfully,

Yes.

Garry Owen!

[jw]

RIP Sir. Well deserved.

[tooslow]

Chaplain Kapaun and Chaplain Watters; compare to Chaplain Trainer and his Powerpoint Presentation.
(walks away shaking head)

[agonyea]

More info on this amazing man:



Chaplain gets Medal of Honor 62 years after death


Published April 06, 2013

Associated Press


In this Aug. 11, 1950 photo provided by Col. Raymond A. Skeehan via the U.S. Army, the Rev. Emil Kapaun repairs his bicycle in Korea. (AP)


In the cold, barren hills of Korea more than 60 years ago, two teary-eyed soldiers stood in a prisoner of war camp where their chaplain lay dying.

The Rev. Emil Kapaun was weak, his body wracked by pneumonia and dysentery. After six brutal months in the hellish camp, the once sturdy Kansas farmer's son could take no more. Thousands of soldiers had already died, some starving, others freezing to death. Now the end was near for the chaplain.

Lt. Mike Dowe said goodbye to the man who'd given him hope during those terrible days. The young West Point grad cried, even as the chaplain, he says, tried to comfort him with his parting words: "Hey, Mike, don't worry about me. I'm going to where I always wanted to go and I'll say a prayer for all of you."

Lt. Robert Wood wept, too, watching the Roman Catholic chaplain bless and forgive his captors. He helped carry Kapaun out of the mud hut and up a hill on a stretcher after Chinese soldiers ordered he be moved to a hospital, a wretched, maggot-filled place the POWs dubbed "the death house." There was little or no medical care there. Kapaun died on May 23, 1951.

These two soldiers -- and many more -- never forgot their chaplain. Not his courage in swatting away an enemy soldier pointing a gun at a GI's head. Not his talent for stealing food, then sneaking it to emaciated troops. Not the inspiring way he rallied his "boys," as he called them, urging them to keep their spirits up.

The plain-spoken, pipe-smoking, bike-riding chaplain was credited with saving hundreds of soldiers during the Korean War. Kapaun (pronounced Kah-PAHWN) received the Distinguished Service Cross and many other medals. His exploits were chronicled in books, magazines and a TV show. A high school was named for him. His statue stands outside his former parish in tiny Pilsen, Kan.

But one award, the Medal of Honor, always remained elusive.

Dowe and other POWs had lobbied on and off for years, writing letters, doing interviews, enlisting support on Capitol Hill. Dowe's recommendation was turned down in the 1950s.The campaign stalled, then picked up steam decades later. Kapaun's "boys" grew old, their determination did not.

Now it has finally paid off.

On April 11, those two young lieutenants, Dowe and Wood, now 85 and 86, will join their comrades, Kapaun's family and others at the White House where President Barack Obama will award the legendary chaplain the Medal of Honor posthumously.

"It is about time," Dowe says.

Even now, Father Kapaun's story may still have one final chapter: sainthood.

The Korean conflict is sometimes called "the forgotten war," overshadowed by the global cataclysm of World War II and the nation's long struggle in Vietnam.

For veterans, though, there are vivid war memories: the desperation of eating weeds plucked from the dirt, the horror of discovering buddies who'd died overnight, the evanescent joy of taking a few puffs on their chaplain's pipe. Many men of the 3rd Battalion, 8th Cavalry regiment, credit Kapaun for their survival, emotionally and physically.

"He's in my prayers every night," Dowe says. "I ask him to help me rather than asking God to help him."

Dowe first talked about the chaplain in a told-to story in the Jan. 16, 1954, issue of The Saturday Evening Post. He described Kapaun as "the bravest man" and "best foot soldier" he'd ever known, a humble guy with a wry sense of humor (he made a game of counting lice on their uniforms) and a fierce desire to help others.

Every POW remembers something special about what Kapaun did to help the soldiers.

He'd pound rocks on bombed-out tin roofs to shape them into pans he used to wash the wounded.

He'd pray to St. Dismas, the Good Thief, before he foraged in sheds and fields, stuffing corn, peaches and other food in his pockets, then giving it all to starving soldiers.

He'd drag the injured into ditches, risking enemy attack, or haul them on stretchers in the snow, gently urging others to do the same. "Come on boys," he'd say, "Let's help these guys."

He'd hop on his rickety bike -- his Jeep had been demolished -- every time he heard gunfire, racing toward the action, zipping across rice paddies in his knit cap fashioned from a sweater arm.

"He figured somebody needed help or last rites," Wood says. "We used to call him To-The-Sound-of-the-Guns Kapaun."

Wood recalls how the chaplain once joined him on the front lines when the lieutenant volunteered to deliver ammunition to some troops. As he raced up the hill, Kapaun appeared with bandoliers wrapped around him.

"What are you doing, father?" a surprised Wood asked.

"I'm going with you, son," the chaplain told the lieutenant, who at 22 was about a dozen years younger.

About halfway up, they were fired upon, Wood says. Both jumped into a ditch. The trusty pipe Kapaun had clenched between his teeth had been reduced to a mere stem.

"Father, you still want to go?" Wood asked.

"Keep going, son," Kapaun replied.

Such feats were cited when it was announced in March that Kapaun would receive the Medal of Honor. The White House and Army cited the chaplain's "extraordinary heroism" during the Battle of Unsan in Korea, walking through "withering enemy fire" to comfort and provide medical help, staying with the troops though capture was almost certain, leading prayers at the risk of punishment and resisting re-education programs by the Chinese Communists.

Also mentioned was an incredible life-saving episode.

It was November 1950 when Chinese soldiers overran the U.S. troops near Unsan. Sgt. Herbert Miller, a hardened World War II vet, was huddled in a ditch, his ankle broken from a grenade attack. He played dead for a time, hiding beneath the corpse of an enemy soldier. But he was ultimately discovered by another.

Miller picks up the story six decades later:

"He pointed his gun at my head. I was looking into the barrel. I figured to myself: `This is it. I'm all done."'

Then almost miraculously, Miller saw a slender GI approaching across a dirt road. As he neared, Miller noticed a small cross on the soldier's helmet. Kapaun simply pushed the enemy aside -- shockingly, without retribution.

"Why he never shot him," Miller says, "I'll never know. I'll never know. ... I think the Lord was there directing him what to do."

Kapaun reached down, scooped up Miller and carried him on his back as they were taken captive.

"Put me down. You can't carry me," Miller repeatedly told Kapaun. And he recalls the chaplain's reply:

"If I put you down, they'll shoot you."

Kapaun carried the wounded sergeant, or supported him, hobbling on one foot, until they arrived days later at the village of Pyoktong, where a POW camp was eventually established.

It was there on Easter Sunday 1951 that Kapaun, defying his captors, conducted Mass with a makeshift crucifix on a brilliantly sunny day. At the end of the service, Dowe recalls, the hills and valley echoed with the prisoners singing "America The Beautiful."

By then, Kapaun, a patch covering one injured eye, was very sick. About a week later, he almost died from a blood clot in his leg. But he kept going.

"As the kids say, he didn't just talk the talk, he walked the walk," Wood says. "When I think about him, I get all choked up. It was chaos. It was hell. To have this one man who still had the spark of civility in him -- it was an inspiration."

Back home, Dowe set out to have Kapaun's heroics recognized.

After the Saturday Evening Post piece, Dowe made a bid to have him awarded the medal. It failed.

The POWs talked about it at reunions over the decades, two Kansas congressmen tried, once in about 1990, and then about a decade later. Around the same time, a new champion entered the picture.

William Latham Jr., a retired lieutenant colonel, teacher and historian, was interviewing several soldiers held captive with Kapaun while researching a book, "Cold Days in Hell: American POWs in Korea." They told moving stories and urged Latham to take up their medal cause.

Latham scoured the National Archives, gathering evidence of Kapaun's deeds in battle and captivity. He found the chaplain's service documents and eyewitness accounts from Unsan. He collected affidavits from the obliging POWs.

Latham understood the nominating process, the rules and hurdles in securing the medal -- especially after decades pass -- so he was sure to compile a thorough case. He sent more than 5 pounds of material to Kapaun's family and urged it be shared with the local congressman, who gave it to the Army.

This time, there was success. Latham was thrilled -- and not just for the chaplain's memory.

"Emil Kapaun didn't need a medal to prove his heroism, but this recognition is very important to the men who served with him and to the families of the many other POWs who never came home," he says. "How many chances do any of us have to recognize so many unsung heroes?"

But there's still unfinished business in Pilsen, where townsfolk hope Kapaun will one day be elevated from war hero to saint.

Around this hamlet of just 22 homes, Kapaun's name already has mythical status. Everyone knows the story of the modest farm kid who became an Army chaplain in 1944, served two years along the India-Burma border and returned to the military in 1948 for a second stint -- dying at age 35 in captivity in Korea.

Today, there's a Father Kapaun Day every June at his former parish, St. John Nepomucene Catholic Church, a nearly century-old red brick building with a 115-foot steeple. Inside there's a museum celebrating Kapaun's life; outside a life-sized bronze statue of the chaplain, an Army captain, helping a wounded soldier.

An hour away, the Rev. John Hotze, judicial vicar of the Wichita Diocese, has been leading the case for sainthood.

When he officially started the project in 2008, he says, his first task was to look for any reasons Kapaun wasn't worthy. The closest thing to a flaw he found, he says, was a doctor in the POW camp who'd been frustrated because Kapaun, as a patient, gave his food to those he felt were needier. "That," he says, "was the worst anybody said about Father Kapaun."

Over the next three years, Hotze, with a team of researchers, presented a 160-question survey to some 55 people who knew Kapaun from his childhood to his dying days. Personal interviews were conducted around the country and an 8,000-page record was amassed of every word written about and by Kapaun, including some 1,500 articles and even his homilies, some of them in Czech. (The Kansas-born chaplain learned his parents' ancestral language.)

A postulator in Rome will assemble the case for canonization, which is ultimately decided by the pope.

Two miracles are needed, and Hotze says there are potential candidates: a college student who suffered a life-threatening head injury in a pole-vaulting accident but recovered and teenage girl who healed from liver and lung disease, without any need for dialysis. In both instances, Hotze says, their families and friends prayed to Kapaun for his intercession.

After three years of exploring Kapaun's life, Hotze says what stands out is his selflessness in extraordinary times.

"If we were in the same position as Father, our focus would be on `how am I going to survive?"' he says. "For Father Kapaun it was `how am I going to help other people to survive?' That sums up his life."

Ray Kapaun was born after his uncle died, but he grew up hearing about him from his grandmother.

"In everything that Emil did, he led by example," Ray Kapaun says. "He wasn't a preachy person. He never expected anything from anybody that he wouldn't do himself."

The medal, he says, is both a family honor and a history lesson.

"It's a huge validation but it's almost an opportunity for a lot more people to know and see what kind of man he really was," he says. "I still read stories about him and get teared-up about what he did."

Ray Kapaun, now 56, will accept the medal on his family's behalf. He'll be joined by two other nephews and a niece of the chaplain. Kansas political leaders, Latham, the historian, Hotze, others members of the Wichita Diocese and the Pilsen parish will be there, too.

And, of course, the POWs.

This day, Ray Kapaun says, would never have arrived without their persistence. Some didn't live to witness the ceremony, but others will finally see their beloved chaplain given the recognition they've called for so long.

"What he did and what he meant is so important," Dowe says. "It's worth finding a way to carry that forward. ... I can only say I'm glad it's happening. It's a shame it couldn't have been sooner."


Read more: http://www.*******.com/us/2013/04/06/chaplain-gets-medal-honor-62-years-after-death/#ixzz2PmV6sTWy

[ccorgr175]

I got something in my eye...


SALUTE.

[sovereignman]

Just watched the ceremony on CNN. Korean War POW's stood tall and fierce, despite withering bodies. The warrior spirit endures.

CPT Emil Kapaun, US Army, Chaplain (Congressional Medal of Honor)
Stands To October 1944
Stands Down May 1951
RIP

[12Foxtrot4]

England's tomb of the unknowns (in Westminister Abbey) has an inscription that is very appropriate for the remains interned. "....THEY BURIED HIM AMONG THE KINGS BECAUSE HE HAD DONE GOOD TOWARD GOD AND TOWARD HIS HOUSE.". So too is this spiritual warrior fittingly honored as an MOH recipient.

12Foxtrot4

[Starlight]

Pollen count must be high today.

RIP Padre.

[Justaclerk]

This is one of the bravest men who ever walked the face of the Earth.

RIP Chaplain.

[Dogsquared]

I just read of this soldier recently . What a man .All I can say .

[vmgirl]

Unashamedly made me cry. What an amazing selfless man. I know he is with God and is at peace, yet still watching over others.

[stoli3k]

RIP Sir. And god bless your strength and courage

[SOTB]

And people want us to consider the Chinese as not our enemies. Fucking stupid.

RIP Sir....

[Fofo]

What a truly remarkable, selfless man. My eyes are moist, alright from reading about him.

Rest In Peace, Sir.