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An Easter Story
(A memory of Merle C)
The year was 1945. The United States was still at war in Europe and in the Pacific. German submarines were still prowling around the shipping lanes of the Atlantic Ocean. As a consequence, ships from the United States to Europe were still traveling in convoys. About a week before Easter a convoy departed New York City headed for Europe. I was one of several thousand troops on board ships in the convoy. I was a twenty year old B-17 gunner, part of a ten man replacement aircrew headed for England to become part of the Eighth Air Force. We were on board the troop ship, the USS General William Wiegle. Our ship departed New York harbor under cover of darkness then joined up with the other ships of the convoy and our escort vessels the following morning. There seemed to be ships in every direction all the way to the horizon. There were oil tankers, cargo ships and several other troop ships. The troop ships were near the center of the convoy for maximum protection. We traveled only as fast as the maximum speed of the slowest ship in the convoy, which we soon decided was an oil tanker off our port side whose decks appeared to be awash most of the time. The first two or three days out of New York were fairly uneventful as we explored the ship and settled into our routines. A few of the troops became seasick, but most of us did OK About the third or fourth day of our voyage one of those infamous North Atlantic storms caught us. Very soon it seemed that everyone on board was seasick. The sleeping areas soon smelled of vomit and unwashed bodies. Many of the men laid in their bunks, to ill to attempt any kind of activity. In addition, it was quite dangerous to walk on deck as they were extremely slippery as a result of waves constantly breaking over them. All day and all night the bow of the ship would rise on a huge swell, until the center of gravity shifted and the stern would then rise as the bow plunged into the next swell. After what seemed like an eternity, to those of us unfamiliar with ships and the sea, the buoyancy of the ship would bring the bow back up. Each time that the stern rose and fell the ship's propeller would come out of the water and the ship would resound with a loud "plop-plop-plop" as the propeller emerged from and reentered the water. The cycle would then start all over again. Many of the men were to ill to eat. Others found it extremely difficult to do so. As the ship inclined from side to side and from bow to stern, the metal trays the meals were served on would slide similarly on the galley tables. This meant using one hand to hold the tray while using the other hand to eat with. After five days and nights the storm moved past us or blew its self out, or did what ever North Atlantic storms do. Most of the men recovered from their seasickness quite rapidly and the ship was soon cleaned up and everyone soon returned to their routines. The next day was Easter Sunday. The Catholic personnel on board had determined that there was no Catholic Chaplain on board our ship. We assumed that there would not be an Easter Mass to celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord and that we would not have the opportunity to receive the Sacrament of Communion.Easter Sunday dawned with overcast skies and the seas were still rough and angry looking, adding to the gloom that many of us were feeling. As we walked on deck we noticed another ship sending a message to cur ship with a signaling lamp. I imagine the ships were observing radio silence to avoid giving away the convoy's position to enemy submarines that might be monitoring the air waves. As we watched, the ship that we had seen making the signals came alongside the USS Wiegle. It was another troop ship just about identical to ours. When the two ships were traveling at the same speed and about 75 to 100 feet apart, a small line was shot from the other ship to ours. This line was used to pull a larger line to our ship. The second line was used to pull a still larger line across the open expanse of water. This third line was secured to the superstructure of both ships. A breeches buoy was rigged on this line which was about 25 or 30 feet above the water. A breeches buoy is a device suspended on a pulley or a wheel which travels on a line between two ships and is used to transfer cargo, mail or personnel between ships at sea while they are underway. As we watched, a man on the other ship was helped into the breeches buoy. The device, with its human cargo, was pulled from the other ship toward ours. Just as the halfway point was reached, the two ships inclined toward each other, as they moved through the still rough seas. This natural inclination plus the weight of the man being transferred caused the line and its human cargo to drop toward the water. It appeared the man would be dunked into the extremely cold waters of the North Atlantic. At the very instant that the man's feet appeared to reach the water, the ships' inclination reached the maximum in one direction. As the ships began their return to a normal attitude, the line supporting the breeches buoy tightened and the man was saved from his dunking. He was quickly pulled the rest of the way to our ship and willing hands helped him from his precarious perch onto the safety of the deck. The word was quickly passed around the ship that the man transferred to our ship was a Catholic Chaplain coming aboard to say Mass for the Catholic servicemen on board the USS Wiegle. A galley table was soon converted into an altar and it was announced over the ship's public address system that Mass would begin immediately. The Chaplain announced that since it would be impossible for him to hear the individual confessions of the large number of Catholic personnel on the ship, he would give general absolution so that all of us could receive the Sacrament of Communion on Easter. This meant that each of us must seek out a priest and go to confession at our earliest opportunity. The Chaplain, whose identity I do not recall, proceeded to say Mass and distribute Communion to the ship's Catholic personnel. After he had finished the Mass, the Chaplain announced that he would be transferred to yet another ship to bring the word of God to other troops . As many as possible of the troops crowded onto the deck and watched in fascination and admiration as this holy man of God uncomplainingly put his life at risk to carry the word of God and the Sacrament of Communion on this greatest of feast days in the Christian church to young American servicemen who might be in combat in just a few days. The willingness of this priest, who was not a young man, to put his life at risk doing the work of his calling, made a deep impression on me, and I'm sure on the thousands of other men, Catholic, Protestant and Jew on board the several ships of the convoy that he ministered to. It made me realize that not all heroic acts during war take place in combat or on the battlefield. Every year when I celebrate Easter I am reminded of that courageous priest.
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