Priest, Chaplain, Hero, Saint

From the beginning there was something different about Father Emil Kapaun, something that set him apart. Not long ago some of his friends and family tried to figure out what that something was, and the answers they came up with make for a remarkable remembrance, a perfect tribute to keep in mind this Fourth of July.

You’ve been hearing a good deal lately about Father Kapaun. In April of this year President Obama presented him posthumously with the Congressional Medal of Honor, an award that was a long time in coming. Father Kapaun died in Korea as a prisoner of war May 23, 1951, and some of the men who served with him there--and some of those whose lives he saved--were present for the White House ceremony. Not only a military hero, Father Kapaun has been recognized as a “servant of God,” the first step on the road to canonization. But formally declared or not, those who fought alongside Father Kapaun, and those who were kept as prisoners with him, know in their hearts that he is a saint already.

Born and raised in a tiny Bohemian-American community in Kansas, Father Kapaun was ordained in 1940, served as a World War II chaplain, was recalled during the Korean War and was only 35 when he died. Despite his youthful age, he had more than ample opportunity to display his heroism.

Herb Miller, who was present for the Medal of Honor ceremony, is one who remembers. A sergeant in 1951, he was targeted for execution by a Chinese guard because he was injured and had trouble keeping up with the rest of the men. But Father Kapaun turned away the soldier’s rifle, and then carried Sgt. Miller on to the next camp. In his presentation, President Obama summed up the situation:

“He carried that injured American for miles as their captors forced them on a death march. When Father Kapaun grew tired, he’d help the wounded soldier hop on one leg. When other prisoners stumbled, he picked them up. When they wanted to quit--knowing that stragglers would be shot--he begged them to keep walking.”

Before being taken prisoner, he became a legend when he refused to leave the wounded even under fire. And in prison camp, the legend only grew. According to Lt. Michael Dowe:

“He washed and tended his men as though they were little babies. He traded his watch for a blanket and cut it up to make warm socks for helpless men whose feet were freezing. The most dreaded chore of all was cleaning the latrines, and men argued bitterly over whose time it was to carry out this loathsome task. And while they argued, he’d slip out quietly and do the job.”

Ray Kapaun, the priest’s nephew, accepted the medal from President Obama. He never met his uncle--he was born six years after Father Kapaun’s death--but was raised on family lore about the priest’s resourcefulness. It would serve him in good stead years later when he alone could raid a carefully-guarded warehouse and supply his starving soldiers with food.

Above all, Ray Kapaun said, his uncle gave totally of himself for others, for the men with whom he served. He did so automatically, without thinking about it. And that, above all, was what set him apart--as a priest, as a chaplain, as a hero. His GI companions would surely agree. Of more than passing interest, it’s also the stuff of which saints are made.

(This essay is a recent “Light One Candle” column, written by Jerry Costello, of The Christophers; it is one of a series of weekly columns that deal with a variety of topics and current events.)

Background information:

The Christophers: Christopher Radio & Video

Father Emil Kapaun