On February 3, 1943, four U.S. Army Chaplains, among almost 900 other personnel being transported to Greenland aboard the U.S Army Transport Dorchester, sacrificed their own lives to save others after their ship was torpedoed in the North Atlantic Ocean by German U-boat 233. According to Sergeant Warish and other surviving eyewitnesses, the Chaplains remained calm during the panic following the attack, first distributing life preservers and assisting others to abandon ship, then giving up their own life preservers and coming together in prayer as the ship disappeared beneath the surface.

The story of these four chaplains, a Catholic, a Jew, and two Protestants, stands out among the countless stories of courage that have made this country what it is today. They were John P. Washington, Alexander D. Goode, George L. Fox, and Clarke V. Poling, and each when the moment came, did not hesitate to put others before self, with full knowledge of the consequences.

Washington, the priest, was an Irish Catholic from Newark, New Jersey. Goode the rabbi from Brooklyn, New York, was son of a rabbi in Washington D.C. Fox, raised in an Altoona, Pennsylvania, Irish Catholic family had already served in World War I as a medic, earning a Silver Star and several Purple Hearts. He had been ordained a Methodist minister between the World Wars. Poling, from Columbus, Ohio, was of a prominent family that had already produced six generations of ministers. After being raised and educated in Massachusetts and New York he became the seventh generation, by being ordained in the Reformed Church of America. In November 1942, these four people of God met each other at Camp Myles Standish in Massachusetts for the first time.

Originally designed to carry a crew of 90 and up to 314 passengers between Miami and Boston, the Dorchester had been converted for World War II service to carry 750 army soldiers, 130 crew and 23 navy guards. On January 29, 1943, it departed in bad weather from St. John’s, Newfoundland, carrying 597 soldiers and 171 civilians bound for airbases in Greenland. Its convoy SG-19 also included the freighters Biscaya and Lutz, escorted by U. S. Coast Guard cutters Tampa, Escanaba, and Comanche. Merchant Marine Captain Hans Danielsen commanded the ship while Army Captain Preston S. Krecker, Jr., commanded the troops. First Sergeant Warish was the senior noncommissioned officer aboard.

Despite heavy security, German authorities had become aware that convoy SG-19 was bound for Greenland, so four U-Boats waited along its route. U-233 floated in the dark on the surface, commanded by twenty-six-year-old Lieutenant Commander Karl-Jürg Wächter, binoculars raised to his eyes. Submerged U-boats could be detected by sonar, but on the surface convoy escorts were blind because they lacked radar.

Captain Danielsen realized a U-boat was in the area, and had announced over the ship’s public address system, “Now hear this: This concerns every soldier. Now hear this: Every soldier is ordered to sleep in his clothes and life jacket. Repeat, this is an order! We have a submarine following us...If we make it through the night, in the morning we will have air protection from Blue West One, which is the code name for the air base in Greenland, and of course, we will have protection until we reach port.”

After a few hours the weather improved enough that the chaplains organized a party until about 2330 in the main mess area. First Sergeant Warish chose instead to join the soldiers standing in lookout positions on the open deck in the thirty-six- degree weather. As men headed for their bunks, back in the mess area Father Washington said Mass attended by men of many faiths.

Just after midnight, U-233 fired three torpedos from about 1,000 yards. Warish noted from his watch that it was just past 0055 hours when one of the torpedoes ripped into the Dorchester’s starboard side. The explosion blew a hole near the engine room from below the waterline to the top deck. The lights went out, steam pipes split, and bunks collapsed like cards one on top of another. The sounds of screaming and the smell of gunpowder and ammonia filled the air. The initial explosion killed dozens outright, and a wave of cold water entering the ship quickly drowned dozens more. Nearly one-third those aboard died in the first moments of the disaster.

Warish lay trapped under some bunks that pinned his leg to the deck. Within a minute, the ship listed thirty degrees to starboard. Panicked men rushed topside, but many never made it through blocked passageways. Others were overcome by ammonia fumes. Those who did emerge into the freezing night faced tough choices. Several lifeboats could not be deployed due to the Dorchester’s dramatic list. Many others were so fouled by ice that they could not be freed before the ship went under.

Roy Summers, a Navy gunner stationed on the Dorchester was on deck in the confusion. A few months earlier, he had survived the sinking of the Dorchester’s sister ship, the Chatham, and he believed that he would survive this attack. Resigned to abandoning ship, he ran aft toward the stern, but thought better of it when he realized that jumping there would bring certain death from the still turning propellers, which had already breached the surface and claimed the lives of several who had already jumped. Turning around, he witnessed two of the chaplains handing out life vests and assisting soldiers as they slid down ropes to the sea below. One hysterical soldier grabbed a chaplain as if to choke him. Summers wrestled the soldier away from the chaplain and watched the soldier run down the deck toward the rising water and probably to his death. Summers then climbed over the railing and went down a rope into the ocean.

Elsewhere on the top deck, Father Washington gave absolution to soldiers as they went over the side. Private First Class Charles Macli, a former professional boxer, unsuccessfully urged Washington to go over the side with the men. Instead, Chaplain Washington remained aboard as Macli slid into the cold water. Another soldier, Walter Miller, saw knots of men in seemingly catatonic states bunched against the railings of the listing ship. Too afraid to jump into the sea, they awaited the inevitability of being swallowed by it. Over the din, he heard a terror-filled plaintive voice repeating, “I can’t find my life jacket.” Turning toward that voice, Miller clearly heard Chaplain Fox say, “Here’s one, soldier.” Then Miller witnessed Fox remove his life jacket and put it on the soldier. At the same time, Navy Lieutenant John Mahoney cursed himself for leaving his gloves in his quarters. Chaplain Goode stopped him from returning for the gloves, saying, “Don’t bother Mahoney. I have another pair. You can have these.” Goode then removed the gloves from his hands and gave them to Mahoney. Mahoney later realized that a man preparing to abandon ship probably would not carry a second pair of gloves.

Many of the survivors reported similar encounters with one or more of the chaplains. They seemed to be everywhere on the deck until the very end. Many survivors reported that the four chaplains locked arms and prayed in unison as the ship sank.

After a ten minute struggle Sergeant Warish freed himself and dragged his injured body through the passageways and over the side in time to see the Dorchester sink below the waves twenty-five minutes after being struck. After the Dorchester slid under the waves, the Coast Guard escorts saved 230 of the nearly 900 souls aboard, while losing one Coast Guardsman.

In the aftermath many thought that the four Chaplains should be awarded the Medal of Honor. Instead, on 19 December 1944, they were each awarded the Purple Heart and the Distinguished Service Cross. In 1948, the U.S. Postal Service issued a commemorative stamp in their honor, and Congress designated 3 February as “Four Chaplains Day.” In 1960 Congress created the Four Chaplains’ Medal. Today, one can find memorials to the Four Chaplains scattered across the nation.

U-233 escaped after firing the fatal torpedo. About a year later, it was sunk by British destroyers with the loss of most of its crew. In 2004, the Immortal Chaplains Foundation brought U-233 first officer, Gerhard Buske, to the foundation’s sixtieth- anniversary ceremony, where he spoke, saying “we ought to love when others hate...we can bring faith where doubt threatens; we can awaken hope where despair exists; we can light up a light where darkness reigns; we can bring joy where sorrow dominates.”

Those words, as well as any, represent the lessons of the Four Chaplains.

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