Fight On!
By Sam Gipp
Smashwords Edition Copyright ©2010 Samuel C. Gipp
Original Copyright © 2004 Samuel C. Gipp
No part of this book may be reproduced either in printed form, electronically or by any other means without the express written permission of the author. Said letter of permission must be displayed at the front of any electronically reproduced file.
ISBN—1-890120-28-6
Library of Congress Control Number 2004117910
Books by this Author
• The Answer Book
• An Understandable History of the Bible
• A Practical and Theological Study of The Gospel of John
• A Practical and Theological Study of The Book of Acts
• A Practical and Theological Study of The Book of Romans
• Living With Pain
• Answers to the Ravings of a Mad Plunger
• Job
• Reading and Understanding the Variations between the Critical Apparatuses of Nestle’s 25th and 26th Editions of the Novum Testamentum-Graece
• How to Minister to Youth
• Selected Sermons (Vol. 1—10)
• Life After Y2K
• For His Pleasure
• Character Studies in the Old Testament
• How to Get Your Book Published
• (Christian school materials)
A Nugget of Advice From An Unknown Author
People are unreasonable, illogical and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest people with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest people with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs, but follow top dogs.
Fight for the underdog anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help, but may attack you if you help them.
Help people anyway.
Give to the world the best you’ve got and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.
Dedicated
To anyone who has been overwhelmed by the circumstances of life and is looking for something to keep them going. With all my heart, I hope this book will be a help to you.
—S.C.G.
Preface
Due to an unfortunate accident over 30 years ago, I deal with a great amount of pain on a daily basis. My faith, daily Bible reading, and the prayers of friends have kept me going years longer than I should have been able to. Along the way, there have also been stories of people in dire straits who refused to give in to their circumstances. I have found encouragement here as well. For years I shared some of these stories with the readers of my monthly newsletter in a little paragraph entitled, “Fight On!” Unfortunately, some of the stories were too long to put into one small paragraph, so I decided to write this book with the hope that the stories found within would be as much of an encouragement to the readers as they have been to me.
Although some Scripture will be found within these pages, this is not a “Christian” book. The Scripture is here for two reasons: I believe Christianity is superior to any other belief system. Take no offense. That is exactly what those of other belief systems think about theirs. We are both entitled to our opinions without some liberal bigot demanding an apology from the Christian portion of that equation.
Secondly, many who do not consider the Bible to be the inspired word of God will acknowledge its inspirational value. If you cannot tolerate an occasional reference to Scripture, then I suggest you put this book down and go back to your cave. There is nothing here that will harm you.
Introduction
You would have to know Dr. Samuel Gipp as I know him to understand why he has brought together these bits and pieces of true life experiences that depict the reaction of many different mortal human beings to extraordinary circumstances.
Sometimes it is the terrible trauma of war and the many and varied situations a combatant finds himself in that require courage, tenacity and even self-sacrifice, if he is to follow orders that pit him against a sometimes overwhelming enemy force or a woman who is time-tested as a survivor of multiple sea disasters and who is nonetheless dauntless. She goes on to prove her bravado by setting fears aside and boarding another ship whose fate almost consumes her. These stories are about real people, real situations and true grit. Sam Gipp, as most of us know him, is that kind of man: a soldier in a different Army. His life has taken him around the globe with physical and psychological demands that few would have the stamina or the street-wise wisdom to take on. He seems to know no bounds. His has been a tenacious and courageous fight, often outnumbered but never outdone, a true patriot and an honorable friend. Incessantly plagued by injury and pain, he continually girds himself with what protection he needs to sustain his drive for victory against those forces only the devil could put in his path, and he continues to march in a relentless pursuit of evil and subterfuge, wanting to be an example to his fellow man.
I treasure my memories of time spent with Sam, and, if I were to once more go into battle against an enemy whose forces outnumbered ours, I would want follow his lead. Like General George Patton, he would put the fear of God into the enemy as he led the march to victory, chewing up the enemy and spitting them out into a bottomless pit of death and destruction.
As you read through these many essays of heroes of all persuasions, you will gain a better understanding of what it takes to be a cut above the rest, what it is to be called on to do the impossible, and how to better meet each and every test that life has to offer. You will understand that no matter what heroic act you were able to achieve in this world, unless what you achieve is right, you will have achieved no victory, only a disguised defeat. It is Dr. Gipp’s heartfelt intent to show you that the true test of a person is how he or she stands against the enemy.
Sam Gipp is my hero and I truly believe that what he has put together between the covers of this book will help you to achieve an honorable and final victory.
—Lieutenant Colonel Daniel Marvin, U. S. Army Special Forces (Ret.)
Author of The Expendable Elite
Forward
I would like to explain the making of this book. As you will see in the bibliography, numerous sources have been utilized for its writing. In the case of magazines I have listed only the names of those used rather than each individual occurrence. I would highly recommend every book listed for your further reading. Some of the most remarkable are: Five Years to Freedom; Endurance; The Long Walk; Retreat Hell!; Small Unit Actions in Vietnam; Mountain Men & Fur Traders of the Far West; Cheating Death, Amazing Survival Stories from Alaska and Survival just to name a few.
I am an American and un-intimidated by the modern desire of some to make all Americans apologize for the greatness of our country. Therefore I am not the least bit interested in exalting the deeds of those who have fought against the United States in battle. If you wish to read about the heroics of the Germans, Japanese, North Koreans, Chinese or Vietnamese, you may wish to check a library in downtown Moscow.
The Civil War presented a special problem for me. Being from the North I possess the usual northern attitude which is, “It’s over. Who cares about it?” But some of my friends from the South don’t quite see it that way. But the Civil War was American versus American and I always feel more pain when reading about it than pride. Therefore, I refused to include stories that illustrated the bravery in battle of either side. There’s no pride in killing your brother. Any stories which deal with the Civil War are presented as examples of personal courage in dire circumstances. The two exceptions to this are, A Bad Day to Surrender, which, if it had not taken place on July 4th, would not have made the cut. The other exception is For the Love of a Good Fight. George St. Leger Grenfell simply impressed me, and I had to include him. And one more which you will see.
I hope you will find these stories as much of an inspiration as I did. Fight on!
The LORD also will be a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble.
—Psalm 9:9
* * *
Full of Fight!
ONE night in November of 1944, an American Sherman tank was knocked out while guarding a crossroad in Europe. The entire crew was killed except for one fight-filled man. The one surviving tanker single-handedly loaded, aimed and fired the damaged tank’s 76mm gun at advancing German infantry. When the ammunition for the main gun was gone, he emptied the tank’s turret mounted .30 cal. machine gun at the enemy. Then he popped the hatch on the turret and laid a stream of .50 cal. fire on the confused Germans. With that ammunition spent, the young tanker let loose with his Thompson submachine gun. When that was empty, he pulled his .45 pistol and fought the enemy until that ammunition was used up. Then he dropped back into the tank, and “buttoned up”, and waited for dawn. But! He still had a box of hand grenades! As German infantry swarmed his battered tank seeking to kill him, he would periodically open the hatch a crack and pop out a grenade until those were gone too. The Germans finally gave up and bypassed the young tiger. The next morning he was rescued amidst a sea of German bodies. Fight on!
Behold, I have made thy face strong against their faces, and thy forehead strong against their foreheads.
—Ezekiel 3:8
Double Trouble
IN October of 1891 Hi Ainsworth was prospecting in the mountains near Butte, Montana. He was walking a trail when suddenly a grizzly bear stepped onto the trail ahead of him and headed his way. Ainsworth raised his single-shot rifle but fired high due to his excitement. He quickly reloaded and fired again, wounding the big animal. Again he reloaded and was about to shoot when he heard a noise behind him. He turned to see that another grizzly had entered the trail behind him and was also attacking. Ainsworth turned and fired, dropping the newcomer. But as he turned back around the first bear charged him again. With no time to reload, Ainsworth clubbed the bear over the head with his empty rifle, stunning the beast and breaking the stock off his rifle. The bear rose again and came on. Ainsworth smashed it hard over the head with the rifle barrel, killing it. That ended the first threat. But now the second bear was up and resuming its attack. Ainsworth swung the rifle barrel, but the beast swatted the gun from his hands and bore in, bowling Ainsworth over. The two fell and rolled over and over as they fought. Finally, torn by the beast’s claws and bitten several times, Ainsworth broke loose, staggered to his fallen rifle barrel, returned to the beast and smashed it repeatedly over the head until it was dead. Then he lost consciousness. Around midnight he awoke and began the journey back to his camp, dragging himself as he went. He lay in his camp for four days before he regained enough strength to make his way to the camp of another prospector who took him into Butte for medical treatment. Fight on!
The Unstoppable Charge
DURING the Napoleonic Wars the British were allied with the Austrians. On April 24, 1794, 800 French cavalry and 9,000 infantry pressed the Allies near Villers-en-Cauchies and threatened to capture the Austrian Emperor, Francis I. The only force to meet them was two squadrons of Austrian cavalry (112 men) and two squadrons of British cavalry from the 15th Light Dragoons (160 men), a total of 272 men. The Allies would have to charge the French to occupy them and give the Emperor time to escape. The British and Austrian horsemen crossed their swords in a solemn pledge that they would carry the charge home. Across the field waited 800 French cavalry. Screaming, the Allies charged the line of French cavalry. As they drew closer, the French horsemen split at the center and rode around the flanks to the rear, exposing French artillery they had been masking. The artillery fired point blank with grapeshot into the charging horde. But the Allies were committed. They exploded into the French line, capturing four guns.
In response to the order, “Prepare to receive cavalry”, the three ranks of French infantry dropped to one knee with bayonets raised at an angle. But the Allies smashed through them also, cutting them to ribbons. Then they continued onto the reforming French cavalry and routed them. The Austrians veered west pursuing the fleeing French units while the British continued to run down the cavalry, in the process destroying an artillery column at the edge of the French held city of Bouchian where they were finally turned back by the city’s guns.
Their horses were spent and they were four miles behind enemy lines. The only safety was in their own lines four miles away. With the remnants of 9,000 infantry between them and safety, the British commander turned around and headed back the way they came at a trot to give the horses a chance to rest. As they approached the French infantry, they turned around and scattered a pursuing force, then wheeled around and rode full speed into the infantry a second time, breaking through and returning to the safety of their lines. In the encounter the French had lost 800 men, the Austrians, 31, and the British, 17. The Emperor was safe. Fight on!
Naval Battle in the Heart of Africa
LAKE Tanganyika, in Africa, is 450 miles long and 50 miles wide. During World War I its eastern shore bordered German East Africa, its western shore, the Belgian Congo, and at its tips were British colonies. Germany maintained a small naval fleet on the lake consisting of three ships: the 45 ton Kingani; the 100 ton Hedwig von Wissman and the 800 ton Graf von Gotten. On August 22,1914, the Germans surprised their neighbors by sinking the Belgian ship, Alexadre del Commune, the only ship that could threaten Germany’s control of the lake. Germany now controlled the lake and threatened its neighbors. The situation seemed hopeless, but a British citizen, John R. Lee, had a vision of a way to protect Allied interests and thwart German intentions. He proposed hauling a ship by land across Africa to Lake Tanganyika to engage the Germans. His idea was accepted and not one, but two 40 foot gunboats were allotted for the journey. And a journey it was, being over 3,000 miles in length. The first leg of the trip was by railroad. Then they were dragged along by a steam traction engine. At times they had to be manhandled with a block & tackle as they made their way to the lake. Often natives had to travel eight miles to the closest river to haul water for the steam tractors. But the arduous journey was a success. Both boats made it to their intended destination.
The battle commenced on December 26,1915, when the two tiny gunboats engaged and sank the Kingani. Then the ingenious Brits raised the newly sunken enemy ship, mounted a 12 pounder cannon on it, and engaged the 100 ton Hedwig von Wissman. In the running battle that ensued, the tiny boat expended all but two of its shells with misses. But with its next to last shot it sank the Wissman. This accomplishment panicked the Germans who later sunk the Graf von Gotten themselves, fearing that it too might be captured by the British.
The British had hauled two tiny gunboats across 3,000 miles of Africa’s darkest jungle, engaged ships of superior firepower and greater in number…and won! Fight on!
Bullet-Battered Hero
ON November 8, 1967, an Army reconnaissance team was ambushed and cut off by North Vietnamese forces just west of the A Shau valley. Two Army helicopters flew in to attempt a rescue but were shot down by the intense ground fire. At 11PM an HH-3E Jolly Green of the 37th Aeropsace Rescue & Recovery Squadron, piloted by Capt. John B. McTasney, flew in to attempt a dangerous night extraction. The beleaguered men were dug into the side of a steep hill. The only way for McTasney to extract the men was to hover, in pitch blackness, with just his nose wheel and one main gear touching the hillside, while hoping the rotor blades wouldn’t slam into the ground. As the big helicopter touched down, it started taking repeated hits from well-concentrated enemy fire. While three wounded men were loaded, bullets struck the helicopter knocking out both generators and severing two fuel lines, flooding the interior of the craft with raw jet fuel. Unable to stay any longer, McTasney applied full power and clawed his way into the air and headed for the nearest base. Two miles from that base one engine quit and the helicopter ceased to be airworthy. McTasney spiraled the wounded craft in for a hard, but successful, landing. All aboard were safe. Fight on!
A Failed Farmer
HE was just a North Carolina farmer. He wasn’t tall. He was known as a soft-spoken man. There was nothing about him that would leave a lasting impression on anyone who met him. At 34 years old, he was deeply in debt and failing as a farmer. His life had been an uneventful failure. Then he gave up. He paid his debts, packed up his family and headed for a land to the west he had heard about called “Caintuck.” With his bare hands he cut a road through the wilderness to allow others access to the lush wilderness ahead. Then he established a town and fought the Indians to preserve it until the area was populated and secure. Years later, at age 70 he got tired of the crowds of people who had populated the area so he moved to the St. Louis, Missouri, area and did it all again. Then, in 1820, at the age of 86 he died. He had left the Carolinas, a failure, and never looked back as he marched west and into history. He helped to mold and establish this great nation.
And just where would America be if Daniel Boone had been a successful farmer? Fight on!
“I am only one, but I am one. I can’t do everything, but I can do something. And what I can do, I ought to do. And what I ought to do, by the Grace of God, I shall do.”
—Edward E. Hale
The Power of One Man
IN hopes of saving the failing Revolution, colonists needed to take Yorktown. But the town was defended by two redoubts, numbers 9 & 10. On October 14, 1781, American colonists and their French allies attacked British Redoubt #10. Immediately the attack went badly. The over-all commander, French Colonel Jean Gimat was quickly shot down. Next, French sappers rushed the wall hoping to plant charges in any holes they might find to blow a breach. None were found and they fell to the deadly fire of British sharpshooters. As the British methodically shot down the attacking force, American Captain Stephen Olney made a one-man charge on the wall only to discover a small breach. He called to his fellow colonists to follow him and then dove through the hole. He was immediately set upon by five or six British troops. Armed with only a spear-like espontoon he fought bravely till it broke. Olney suffered numerous sword slashes and then was bayoneted in the thigh and abdomen. He fought on with one hand while he held his intestines in with the other. Suddenly a point blank musket blast knocked him backwards just as his fellow soldiers dove into the fight. The fight lasted only ten minutes. The Americans won. It was the battle that decided the Revolution. America would be a free country. And Stephen Olney would live on until 1832 when he died at the age of 77. Fight on!
Gotta Get Out Tonight!
ON February 8, 1986, pilot Mike Harbough was trying desperately to fly his Cessna 182 through Merrill Pass in the Kuskokwin Mountains in Alaska. The cloud ceiling was 5000 feet. The pass was 3500. At an altitude of 4500 feet he should be able to squeeze through. But as he approached the pass it closed in on him . He turned the Cessna away… and woke up sitting in the snow on the side of the mountain below, gazing at the wreckage of his plane 50 feet further down the mountain. As he had banked his plane a gush of wind had reached out and swatted it to the ground like a bug. Now in the extreme cold and growing darkness, Harbough, racked with pain, passed out several times as he crawled to the wrecked plane for what protection it could offer. Upon arriving at the plane he did what only a Christian would do, he prayed for somebody else. He prayed God would comfort his family through his death if it came to that. He awoke the next day and awaited help but none came. Winter in the mountains of Alaska is brutal and plunging temperatures can bring death in minutes. Harbough managed to light a small fire for heat and to melt snow for water. That night the wind scourged him again. The next morning a light plane flew over, banked, and flew over again just 100 feet above the surface. He wagged his wings. Weakened from exposure, Harbough could only lean there and watch as the coming night assured him they would have to wait till dawn to attempt a rescue. “One more night.” he said. “ I can make it one more night.” But he couldn’t. The plunging temperatures combined with his weakened condition would take his life. He would die that night. But he wouldn’t! No he wouldn’t die this night. Not if Major Merle Perrine of Elmendorf Air Force base could help it. They would assault the deadly pass at night, something that had never been done before. An HC-130 cargo plane would have to bombard the pitch blackness with flares constantly or Captain Scott Sommer and his helicopter crew would be joining Harbough in the darkness below. In the treacherous air currents, Maj. Sommer flared his bobbing craft, and pararescuers Sgt. Ryan Beckman and Airman 1st Class Patrick Keller leaped out into the sub-zero temperature. They secured Harbough to a stretcher and hoisted him up. He later said that after three nights on the mountain he felt like he had left his tomb and been resurrected. In three days he had lost 30 pounds. His core temperature had dropped to a mere 80 degrees. Death hovered close for the next week as Harbough lay in the hospital. Then he recovered enough for doctors to amputate his frozen left leg. Merrill’s Pass is scattered with the wreckage of similar wrecks. Mike Harbough is the only pilot known to have survived. But then, maybe he had help. Fight on!
One Ship Versus the Horde
THE night naval actions off Savo, in the South Pacific, had cost the U. S. Navy dearly in 1942. The expert sailors of the Japanese navy commanded the waters around Guadalcanal and had succeeded in cutting off Marines on the island from U. S. reinforcements. Disregarding standard naval doctrine against committing a capital ship in restricted waters, Admiral “Bull” Halsey did just that when he sent in his last hope for success: four destroyers and the two battleships, USS South Dakota and USS Washington, on the night of November 13,1942, against a force more than three times their size. In a short time all four destroyers were sunk, or set ablaze. The South Dakota was rendered helpless with electrical and fire control problems. Only the Washington, captained by Rear Admiral Willis “China” Lee stood between the meager Marine force and the 14 ship Japanese horde. Captain Lee steered a course placing two burning U.S. destroyers between him and the Japanese, preventing them from seeing his ship. As she steamed through the dying sailors from the stricken American ships the crewmen of the Washington heard cries of, “Get after them, Washington” from those floating in the waters around them. She was now officially “the last ship in the U. S. Pacific Fleet” and the only hope America had for winning the war. Finally, in an effort to locate the Washington, the Japanese battleship, Kirishima snapped on a searchlight. Washington reacted! Between midnight and 12:07 she laid seventy-five 16-inch shells on the Japanese battlewagon. U. S. steel rained death on the Japanese vessel reducing her to burning wreckage. At 3:25 a.m. she slipped beneath the waves, becoming the first enemy ship sunk by an American battleship since the Spanish-American War of 1898. The Kirishima’s destruction was so stunning to the Japanese that they promptly withdrew from action. Days later they abandoned any attempt to drive the Marines from Guadalcanal. “The last ship in the Pacific Fleet” had refused to run and instead began a series of naval victories that drove the Japanese from the Pacific. Fight on!
A Burning Bridge to Safety
WHEN the Newhall House Hotel burned down on January 10, 1883, those inside were hampered by extremely flammable wood construction, poorly located fire escapes and choking smoke. Crowds in the streets around the structure heard the terrified cries of a group of young women, table hostesses, trapped on the roof of the six story high building. No one could reach them. But firemen Edward Ryemer and Herman Strauss headed to the roof of a neighboring bank building and were able to make a shaky bridge from that building to a window in the flaming hotel. Eleven times fireman Strauss crawled across the unstable span, each time returning with a young woman on his back. By his twelfth trip, the hotel end of the ladder was on fire. The woman on his back fainted and fell. But Strauss’ quick reflexes shot into action as he reached out and caught her by the ankle and hauled her to safety. Fight on!
“We’re Operating!”
DURING the Korean War the Communist Chinese Forces (CCF) would launch human wave attacks sending literally thousands of running, screaming troops against thinly-spread American lines. The CCF soldiers would run right through the perimeter and keep running to the rear, heading for the headquarters area. There they would wreak havoc until each was killed one-by-one. One cold night in November, 1950, they breached the Marine lines and headed to the rear. Three ChiCom soldiers burst into an aid tent where a Navy doctor was valiantly trying to save the life of a young Marine. Unarmed and unintimidated the doctor turned and faced the three enemy soldiers and flatly stated, “We’re operating!” The three stopped, bowed, and backed out of the tent. Fight on!
Besieged by Ice
ON November 9, 1942, a B-17, piloted by Captain Armand L. Monteverde was being ferried to England when it crash-landed on the ice cap of Greenland in the middle of the vicious arctic winter. None of the nine man crew was killed, though one man broke an arm. But the sub-zero temperatures and 100 mile an hour winds soon caused many cases of frostbite and greatly hampered rescue attempts. The craft was surrounded by deep crevasses in the ice which were covered by dangerous snow bridges that would give way if an unsuspecting man stepped unto them. One man fell through a snow bridge into a crevasse but miraculously landed on a block of ice wedged 100 feet down. He was rescued by the crew with a rope made from parachute lines.
It wasn’t until fifteen days after the crash that the crew was located and supplies were dropped to them. Dog teams from a military base near the crash site attempted to reach the wreck but the deep, blowing snow made it impossible for them to continue and they were forced to turn back.
Then, two air sleds, similar to the air boats used in the everglades, left a weather station 25 miles from the wreck piloted by Lt. Max Demorest and S. Sgt. Don Tetley. They had to take a circuitous route to avoid crevasses and snow mountains. Moving slowly on skis Demorest would test the path ahead for snow bridges, and then Tetley would bring up the sleds one-by-one.
While this operation was in progress a small amphibian airplane, flown by Lt. John A. Pritchard, managed a landing near the wrecked plane. Although within sight of the wreck it still took an hour and fifteen minutes on foot over the treacherous surface to reach it. As quickly as he could, Pritchard took off with two of the survivors before the weather closed in again. This was November 29, twenty days after the wreck.
After days of battling the wind and weather, the air sleds were finally stopped within a mile of the wreck. Demorest and Tetley proceeded to the survivors on skies, marked a trail, and then went back to their sleds for the night. The next day they slowly drove the sleds to the wreck being careful to stay on their ski trail. Once at the plane Demorest swung wide off the trail to turn his sled around. Suddenly he and the sled disappeared from sight!! They had broken through a snow bridge and fallen into a huge crevasse. Rushing to the scene the men saw the sled jammed 150 feet below but no sign of Demorest. His body was never recovered.
Now the weather socked them in until December 6. Meanwhile Tetley, experienced in arctic survival, built a snow room below a wing of the wrecked plane to give the survivors some protection from the elements. Then on December 7 he left the wreck with the injured man and two others, named Spencer and Wedel. Spencer and Wedel walked using snow shoes, testing the surface, while Tetley carefully drove the sled along behind. A mile and a half from the wreck they came to a rise where they would all have to ride the sled. Spencer and Wedel sat on the sled to remove their snow shoes. Having done so, Wedel stood up and promptly disappeared straight down. They were on a snow bridge over a crevasse that would support their weight with the snow shoes on but gave way without them. Tetley raced the sled up the rise and returned to the crevasse with Spencer to see if there was any hope of rescuing Wedel. But all they saw was the blood trail leading to the darkness of the bottomless crevasse. The merciless Arctic had claimed another victim. The shocked men continued for six more miles. Then, their sled quit. Try as they may they couldn’t get the engine to restart. Almost immediately the driving wind began to bury the sled with drifting snow. A storm blew in and Tetley and Spencer had to build a snow hole for the protection of them and their injured friend. Snow drifted so fast that the trio was soon buried. They enlarged their hole into a room. The storm lasted for days with winds in excess of 80 miles per hour. The men were finally located by air and had supplies dropped to them during clear moments. The rest of the time they dug to enlarge their room until it was finally a three story house under the snow. The sled had long since been buried beneath more than 16 feet of snow.
While these men fought to survive, Pritcherd landed at the wreck sight again but had time to take only one man due to a fast closing storm. He quickly took off and disappeared into the whiteness. But he never landed. The wreckage of their plane and their bodies were found days later near the coast. Five men had died by now: two survivors and three rescuers.
Meanwhile, more dog teams and sleds were turned back by the brutal weather. Another fierce arctic storm launched its fury at the men and their meager hold on life. For 60 days no one moved on the surface except to retrieve dropped supplies during the two sparse hours of daylight.
Finally, on March 7, a PBY Catalina managed a gear-up landing at the sled camp. Everyone jumped on. Then the pilot opened the throttles but the plane wouldn’t budge. During their brief stop the plane had frozen to the snowy surface. The men disembarked and rocked the wings to break it loose. Then the pilot, Lt. Bernard W. Dunlop, taxied the huge craft in slow circles while men jumped on one-by-one and finally took off. There were only three more men to rescue at the original crash site but another vicious arctic storm did all it could to snuff out their lives.
It wasn’t until March 29, twenty-two long, sub-zero days, that the weather cleared enough to attempt another landing. As new storms billowed on the horizon, Lt. Dunlop circled the wreckage examining the surface as best he could. In the months since the wreck the ever moving ice had slowly been opening a huge crevasse behind the B-17 and it’s tail was sticking out over it. Soon the wreckage would shift one last time and be swallowed by the icy grave. There was no room to land the huge plane near the wreck. The only hope was to land a mile-and-a-half away at the abandoned sled camp and mush in by dog team and bring the remaining three men back to the sled camp for extraction.
Dunlop headed for the sled camp. He put his airplane into a long glide and bellied it in as gently as he could. Then a dog sled team disembarked and headed for the wrecked plane and its besieged survivors while Dunlop took off again. The two men mushed in and administered first aid to the weakened survivors. They spent a cold night and the next morning brought the three remaining men to the sled camp. But they weren’t safe yet. Another cruel arctic storm unleashed its fury on them, trying to thwart the escape of its last three survivors. For over a week the men were pounded by severe weather. On April 5 the storm began to break. The men were going to have a brief window of escape. On April 6 the weather cleared. It was now or never. The big Catalina lumbered into sight. The men watched as Dunlop set it down in another belly landing. Snow sprayed everywhere as the big ship idled up to the men. As before, Lt. Dunlop taxied in circles while his crew picked up the men and took off. They were safe at last! They were going home. It was Army Day, April 6, 1943. Five months after the wreck the rescue was complete. Fight on!
A Close Encounter with Death
IT was in 1908 when James Christie, a fur trapper in Canada’s Yukon Territory, had a close encounter with death. One day in October James left his partner, George Chrisfield, at their cabin and went out to search the area for trapping possibilities. He told Chrisfield not to expect him back for several days. Eight miles from camp he shot a moose, cached it and continued his day’s exploration. When he returned to his moose, it was gone. A grizzly bear had dug it up and carted it across a nearby river. Not to be denied his moose, Christie crossed the river and trailed the bear into the brush where the bear charged him. He shot the animal, the bullet passing the length of his body without noticeable effect. Just before the bear reached him, he fired another round right into its head. Undeterred and spouting blood, the beast tore into Christie. In the last sixty seconds of its life it wreaked havoc on the fur trapper. It smashed his skull, tore open his face, broke his jaw and ripped off his scalp. Then it turned its attention to his body. While Christie fought with it, the bear crushed his right arm, chewed on his legs….and dropped dead. After assessing the damage, Christie started the inevitable trip back to his cabin. He detoured to another abandoned cabin for a brief rest and then continued his trek. Trailing eight miles of blood, he finally reached his empty cabin and collapsed into his bunk. He awoke to find Chrisfield tending to him. Then Chrisfield placed him in a hastily built toboggan, hooked it to two dog teams and carted him 50 miles through the snow-covered wilderness to the nearest trading post for emergency medical treatment. The post attendants fixed him up the best they could and watched him for two months as he hovered between life and death. He survived. When he was strong enough to travel, he then had to cover 250 miles overland to the town of Dawson where he could attain serious treatment at the hospital. He endured numerous surgeries there and recovered. Fight on!
Rules for a Pony Express Rider
1. At no time, except when carrying the mail, should he ever be more than a hundred yards from a relay station.
2. He must be prepared to make his run at top speed, day or night, rain or snow, Indians or no Indians.
3. Once he starts his run, he should never, under any circumstances, turn back.
The Mail Must Go Through!
(Author’s Note: In 1860 the United States was a divided nation. Slavery was the moral divider. But there was another, more physical divider, the great desert of the West. The United States effectively existed in two locations. It started at the Atlantic coast and proceeded west to St. Louis, Missouri. There a western traveler was met by almost 2,000 miles of desolate, deadly desert. Both the land and its inhabitants were a threat to anyone who ventured any farther. But if you could manage to traverse that scorched region and keep your hair you would come to “the other” United States, California. Communication between these two entities before transcontinental telegraph lines were established took anywhere from 30 to 90 days. The West was effectively cutoff from the East. [Imagine the people in California finally hearing about the destruction of the World Trade Center in early 2002.]
The Pony Express sought to shorten that communication time period to a mere, and unrealistic, ten days. To get a mental picture of this, imagine that those states from the east coast to St. Louis represent today’s United States. Then place California on the moon with all communication taking 30—90 days. Then someone said they would carry the mail across the lifeless vacuum of space to the moon in just ten days. This is what the Pony Express sought to do and accomplished. Starting at St. Joseph, Missouri, using a fragile, vulnerable string of 200 relay stations placed every ten to twenty miles apart, a rider would ride approximately 75 miles at top speed changing his horse at each relay station. After 75 miles he would arrive at a home station where the mail, carried in a specially designed saddlebag called a “Mochila”, that fit over the saddle and that the rider sat on, would be passed to a fresh rider who would tear off into the day, the night, the scorching summer or a blizzard of winter, and in the face of hostile Indians. This rider would repeat the process until the mail finally arrived at San Francisco, California. While this mail was being carried westward the same process was used to bring eastward mail. It worked. This trip covered approximately 1,900 miles in 240 hours of full-gallop riding. There were over 200 Pony riders that carried the mail along this treacherous route. During the entire life of the Pony Express, only one mochila was lost when a rider was killed by Indians and his horse stolen. Three years later that mochila was discovered and the mail forwarded to its various destinations.
What you know as the Pony Express was officially a corporation by the name of the Central Overland California & Pike’s Peak Express Company. Furthermore, this corporation was a part of the giant, freight hauling company, Russell, Majors & Waddell. This company had been formed by William H. Russell, who was its chief promoter and dealer in obtaining finances; Alexander Majors, the “hands-on” field man and freighting expert; and William B. Waddell, the accountant.
Few people realize that the Pony Express ran for only 18 months, between April 3, 1860 and October 24, 1861. It was impossible for it to live any longer. For what weather, terrain, and savages could not accomplish, progress did. On October 24, 1861, the first telegraph was sent across the new transcontinental telegraph lines and what the “old” Pony Express took ten days to do could be accomplished at the speed of lightning. Information that had been costing the sender $5 per ounce could now be sent for a fraction of that cost. The Pony Express was doomed. But for 18 months, during the very beginning of the Civil War, it had tied the country together as nothing else did or could.)
FROM the time he was 11 years old, Nick Wilson had lived with the Shoshone Indians. Now at 15 he was a Pony Express rider on the 75 mile segment between Fort Schellborne and Deep Creek Station. Of the eight states traversed by the Pony Express, Utah and Nevada were the most dangerous. Young Wilson’s route was in Utah.
As Wilson passed through a narrow rocky canyon, four Indians stepped out of the rocks ahead of him and blocked his path. Wilson instantly wheeled around only to be greeted by three more. He knew he was a dead young man. He recognized one Indian, but the brave did not acknowledge him. After they disarmed him, the Indians became involved in a heated discussion among themselves. Tabby, the Indian he knew, came over and told him the others all wanted to kill him but he had held out for release. If Wilson would turn back he would be spared. But Pony Express riders never turn back! The mail must go through!
Rather than take the mail and his life and ride off at a gallop before the Indians could change their minds, Wilson insisted he be allowed to carry the mail to his next stop.
The Indians discussed the matter and soon Tabby returned with his horse and permission to continue on. But he must never ride this trail again or he would be killed. Wilson gave his word. He carried the mochila to the end of his segment and then was reassigned to a route in Nevada. Nick Wilson died on December 26, 1915, at the age of 70. Fight on!
Cold Steel!
A MEAGER force of 10,000 British regulars faced 30,000 Sikhs dug into their defensive fortifications in Punjab Province on February 10, 1846. This was no rag-tag mob. The Sikhs were well disciplined and had been well-trained by Europeans. All day opposing artillery had flailed away at each other, but the British guns had been set too far back and their shots fell short of their targets. British Maj. Gen. Sir Hugh Gough was in danger of a Sikh counter-attack that could wipe his small force out when more bad news reached him—the artillery was out of ammunition. They could not prevent a counter-attack. Rather than panic or despair, Gen. Gough shouted, “Thank God! Then I’ll be at them with the bayonet!” He immediately ordered a bayonet attack against the Sikh stronghold. The British troops relentlessly charged the Indian defensive positions. The cold steel of the bulldog British troops broke the Sikh line. That day the British lost 320 men; the Sikhs, 10,000. Fight on!
He Decided to Try Living
ON the night of July 4, 1943 the destroyer, U.S.S. Strong, was torpedoed and sunk off the Solomon Islands. Only 23 men survived that night and eleven days later only four made it to shore on the Japanese held island of Arundell. Lt. Hugh Barr Miller Jr., the senior officer of the small group, was injured internally and hemorrhaging. Miller, who knew he was dying, ordered the men to take his equipment, including his shoes, and leave him so he wouldn’t hamper their escape. They left on the 15th. (They were never heard from again.) Miller drank his entire water supply that day and waited for death. Finally he lost consciousness, but he surprised himself when he awoke the next day alive. Too weak to move he laid there for two more days waiting for death to take him but stubbornly refusing to die. Finally he decided to try living. He prayed, “God, give me water and I’ll try doing something about this situation.” Then he fell asleep. That night it rained for four hours. Gaining strength he drank from a nearby spring and then stumbled about 100 yards into the jungle and cut open a coconut with a broken pocket knife. It was his first meal in 15 days. He evaded Japanese patrols and set up a camp in a stand of Mangrove trees deep in the jungle. One day U.S. PT boats attacked Japanese troop carriers. The next day Lt. Miller found a dead Japanese soldier on shore and took his shoes, socks, bayonet, hand grenades and field rations. Later a U.S. plane flew over. He signaled it and it dropped him iodine for his wounds and some food. The Japanese found the stripped body and began searching for Miller. With his captured grenades he killed an entire five man patrol. He gathered their food, more grenades and their unit insignia for intelligence information and buried the bodies. Their weapons were uselessly shattered by the grenade attack. Near the shore the Japanese would nightly cross a small river and set up a machine gun nest to watch for anymore PT boats that tried to attack them. On three occasions Miller staked out, attacked and killed them with hand grenades and then collected more intelligence data. But the Japanese were closing in. On August 16 another U.S. plane flew over and Miller signaled it. Later a small amphibian, piloted by Major Goodwin “Good” Luck, U.S.M.C.R, landed and sent a small raft to retrieve him. He waded out with his cache of Japanese insignias and equipment and said, “Take this first, it’s important.” They took the intelligence bonanza back to the plane and returned for Miller. Forty-three days after the sinking of his ship Miller was rescued. He had lost 40 pounds during his ordeal but returned with a wealth of information. Fight on!
Rescuing His Wife
JOE Meek was a fur trapper in the Northwest in the 1830's where he had married an Indian woman by the name of Isabel. The men went hunting buffalo one day. The women followed behind and butchered the animals as the men killed them. After the hunt they started back to camp in the traditional manner, men in the lead to protect the women. But Meek’s wife had trouble with her horse and was straggling behind the rest of the women. Suddenly a dozen Crow warriors sprang from the underbrush and surrounded her. About this time Meek became aware that his wife was not among the women. With six other mountain men he backtracked to find her. He crested a ridge to see her peril. The men hesitated when they saw they were outnumbered, but Meek never even paused. He just spurred his horse and charged right into the Indians. He fired his muzzle loader, killing one. Spurred by Meek’s courage, the other trappers followed suit. The Crows scattered and Meek escorted his wife back to the rest of the party. Fight on!
Thinking of Others
MARINE Major Ray Dollins flew a Corsair during the invasion of Iwo Jima, strafing Japanese positions to help his fellow Marines on the ground. On one pass his plane was riddled by enemy fire. Major Dollins knew his damaged aircraft couldn’t make it back to his ship. But the waters in front of him were littered with landing craft filled with invading Marines. He fought to keep the plane airborne until he cleared the approaching landing craft but couldn’t. He was going to crash among the fragile little ships. He scanned the waves of LCT beneath him and made his decision. Personnel monitoring Dollins radio transmission heard his final words as he jested in song:
“Oh what a beautiful morning,
Oh what a beautiful day,
I’ve got a terrible feeling,
Everything’s comin’ my way.”
Then he flipped his plane onto its back and dove it into the water between two waves of LCT’s, killing himself but saving the lives of countless Marines. Fight on!
As for me, I will call upon God; and the LORD shall save me.
—Psalm 55:16
God, a Rock and a Bear
YOUNG Charley Locksley came to California in 1849 seeking gold. That year, as he traveled toward town to retrieve his mail, he made a near fatal pause beneath a giant pine overlooking a 1000 foot drop to the Feather River. The scene before him was of breathtaking beauty. But that day there was something which desired to take young Charley’s breath away. As he drank in the beauty before him, he heard an unnatural noise behind him. He turned to investigate. Suddenly, a huge grizzly bear stepped out of the forest between him and the trail he had left. His only route of escape was cut off. Locksley stood there with no weapon and no escape. Death was certain as the huge animal moved toward him snarling and snapping its teeth together.
Knowing his death was certain, Locksley later said, “Alone, unarmed, I looked death in the face. I must meet it, and meet it like a man, it was useless to bemoan my fate; it seemed like folly to resist; better, far better, for me to submit with fortitude, and with Christian resignation meet this wretched death, which could not be otherwise than brief, sharp and decisive.”
As the fierce animal closed in for the kill, it rose to its hind legs and gave a mighty roar. Locksley, leaning his hand on a large stone outcropping for support, found his hand gripping a large stone which came loose in his hand. In desperation he hurled it into the beast’s mouth as it swiped him with its paw, slicing deeply into his side. Suddenly, the bear dropped to all fours and gagged. Locksley jumped on its back and straight up onto a tree branch that had previously been out of reach. From his perch, Locksley watched for horrified minutes as the beast thrashed, leaped and gagged. Lockley was about 15 feet above the ground and later said that at times the beast leaped higher than the limb he was perched on. Finally, as the animal thrashed about it lost its balance and fell over the cliff. Charley came down from the tree and continued his trip into town, telling those there of his near-miss with death. Some scoffed at his tale, so they trailed out of town to the base of the cliff where they found the body of the bear. A quick inspection found the rock firmly lodged in the dead beast’s throat. Locksley later equated his victory as being similar to David’s victory over Goliath, guided by the same God. Fight on!
“But if my memory serves me at all, it recalls a brief, but sincere prayer, uttered before what seemed an impending death, and addressed to the only Being who has ever responded to the cry of distress in moments of deadly peril.”
—Charley Locksley after his encounter with a rock and a bear.
And David said to Saul, Let no man's heart fail because of him; thy servant will go and fight with this Philistine.
—1 Samuel 17:32
God, a Rock and a Giant
Because the Bible is a religious book and wisely looked to for direction in spiritual matters, the unthinking tend to overlook the fact that it is also a historically accurate record of events of the past. Therefore the report of David’s battle with the Philistine giant, Goliath, found in 1 Samuel 17, is usually referred to for its inspirational value and seldom for its historic value. But this passage is a historically accurate record of a past occurrence. Therefore we will review it for its record of the courage that motivated David to go to battle with the giant, rather than a record of Divine deliverance, which it is.
DAVID is the only man in Scripture who is called “a man after God’s own heart”, and rightfully so. Who could not love someone brave enough and dedicated enough to fight and kill both a lion and a bear just to save the life of a young lamb? Yet his feat in defeating the Philistine giant, Goliath, is the stuff of legends and seed for a Hollywood movie. Being the youngest of his father’s sons he was chosen to carry food stuffs to his three brothers who were literally on the battle line facing Israel’s eternal enemies, the Philistines, today known by the name “Palestinian.” Surely, as a young boy, he looked up to his older brothers. He probably ascribed to the standard younger brother adage, “Anything I can do they can do better.” We can only imagine his surprise and shock to arrive at the battle area to find the entire Israelite army being cowed by one man—a big man, but one man, none-the-less. Seeing no one up to the task of accepting the giant’s challenge, he himself volunteered. It wasn’t patriotism or even family honor that moved the young lad to such a suicidal act. He may have been able forego such insults. But it was the pagan adversary’s blasphemy against the God of creation that so lit David’s ire. He simply could not countenance anyone insulting God in such a debasing manner. So out he went, ignoring offers of armor and sword, and electing instead to meet the giant with nothing more than a few small stones and his sling. This act of itself was one of wisdom rather than foolhardiness. The sword and shield were unfamiliar to David at this time but his sling was a constant companion in mountains and valleys where he tended his flocks. He knew its performance. Also, David was a man with faith in God. It is easy for any man to claim to have faith in God’s power to deliver, but few are willing to “bet their life” on it. David was.
Estimates of Goliath’s height range anywhere from 9 feet to 13 feet tall. Regardless, he was an imposing sight and a thoroughly dangerous adversary. If David felt any fear as he marched ever closer to the titan, it is not recorded. But his fear seems to have been displaced by his unwavering faith in God. Goliath may also have been a little off guard due to the size and youth of his opponent. Imagine yourself moving across a valley heading toward a confrontation with an enemy that was big enough to crush you with his bare hands? Yet on David went with only one thing in mind: Get within sling range. We are not told how far David was from the giant when he launched his projectile. But you can be sure that if he was close enough to hit the giant with a stone, he was himself within javelin range of the former. David never deviated from his battle plan. He closed on the giant and launched his stone. The stone hit the giant, burying itself right in his huge forehead. Not one to take chances David charged the fallen foe and used the giant’s own sword to cut off his head. Any hunter who ever approached a seemingly dead animal only to have it rear up and attack can appreciate the danger David was putting himself in. But neither David’s faith nor his God failed him and his amazing courage and feat has been a source of inspiration to generations. Fight on!
For I will not trust in my bow, neither shall my sword save me. But thou hast saved us from our enemies, and hast put them to shame that hated us. In God we boast all the day long, and praise thy name for ever. Selah.
—Psalm 44:6 8
A Little Help from a Friend
DURING the Korean War Lt. Robin Risner and his wingman were involved in a history making feat. They were hunting MiG-15s just south of the Yalu River which is the border between China and North Korea. Lt. Risner got into a dogfight with an exceptionally aggressive MiG pilot. It was suspected at the time that the Soviet Union was supplying pilots as well as MiGs to the North Koreans. Risner locked onto this particular airplane and blasted away at it. The pilot dove, jinked and banked in an effort to lose the determined American. Pieces of the MiG blew away. Then the canopy blew off, but the plane flew on, heading north for the Chinese border and safety. At one point, in a desperate attempt to force Risner to overshoot him the MiG pilot deployed his air brake. Risner slid right beside the damaged aircraft only to see a red-haired Caucasian shaking an angry fist at him. Risner dropped behind him again and fired away. Now over China, the MiG disintegrated and Lt. Risner and his wingman turned for home. But ground fire from the Communist enemy damaged Risner’s wingman’s F-86. They managed to get out of Chinese airspace before the airplane flamed out. He was going to have to bail out into the waiting arms of the North Koreans. But Lt. Risner had an idea that might save his wingman. The F-86 had a round air intake with an “upper lip” that stuck out. Risner dropped behind and below his wingman and carefully flew his plane up against the gliding fighter, inserting that lip right into the tailpipe. Then he pushed his wingman out over the Sea of China where he bailed out. Fight on!