In Their Own Words

Last October we asked readers who had served our country to share their experiences with us. Within days, letters from veterans began arriving in our mailbox.

These letters described in the most matter-of-fact manner how ordinary men and women did extraordinary things, whether it was in an office stateside helping sailors or standing guard on the front lines in Korea. Read a few of their letters and see for yourself:

I am a survivor of the Chosin Reservoir, or the "Chosin Frozen," as it was called.

We were overrun by the Chinese. The colonel ordered us to scatter after we ran out of ammo. I crawled out with another man.

We found a group of Marines and fought alongside them until the Chinese overran them, too. A Chinese soldier was holding a bayonet to my throat when another one found a lighter on an American G.I. He left me to get the lighter. I lay there half-frozen, hoping he wouldn't come back. He must have forgotten about me.

When Marine medics found me three days later, I heard them say, "He's still alive." I was frostbitten, delirious and shell-shocked. I woke up in a hospital in Japan, but I don't remember how I got there.
—Gary Ahlquist, Grand Rapids, Michigan

On September 11, 1951, I was drafted into the U.S. Army. After basic training, I shipped out to Korea.

I was assigned to guard duty on the front line. I sat under a tree about 25 feet ahead of workers building an outpost. Sometime in the early morning of July 5, 1952, I heard movement on my left front. Whoever was out there was headed for our men. I knew I had to stop them so I challenged them by asking, "Who goes there?" Someone answered, and I knew instantly it wasn't one of our guys.

My sergeant heard the challenge and threw a grenade to the right of where I had last heard the movement. Then everything seemed to happen at once.

A light came through the night sky, landed between my feet and exploded. I ran back to the hole, lined up with the others and started firing. My sergeant called in mortars, and they landed right in front of us, then in increments all over the valley. I guess we won the fight, because everything got quiet.

My leg was bleeding. The grenade that got me must have been homemade. The medic said I had five flesh wounds and ordered me evacuated. They took me to a field hospital where I stayed for five days.

When I arrived back on the line, my commander told me he had recommended me for a Silver Star. I didn't think I had done anything that great. General Williams pinned the star on me. I was more rattled that day than I was the night I got wounded.
—Sherwin Nagelkirk, Allendale, Michigan

I was assigned to the Fourth Infantry Division in Prum, Germany, as a rifleman and assistant 60mm mortar gunner on March 7, 1945.

During our very first attack, the mortar gunner collapsed from exhaustion and I became the gunner. That meant carrying a 60mm mortar with base plate and a .45-caliber pistol in place of the M-1 rifle. The infantry motto was "Take it and follow me."

Later we encountered sniper fire. Our platoon leader spotted the sniper in the steeple of a church atop a hill. He asked me to set up my mortar and knock the sniper out of the steeple. I did what he asked and saved a few American lives.

I don't remember if that shot was the reason for earning my first stripe on April 1, 1945, but it may have been. Ordinarily, we were not to touch churches.
—Albert Schantz, Reading, Pennsylvania

I was drafted into the Army and served 16 months in Korea. I never trained with nor carried a weapon because of my Christian beliefs.

Soon after I arrived in Korea, I was asked to walk guard duty about 20 miles from the main line of resistance. I told the sarge that I didn't carry a weapon. Aghast, he told me to at least take a stick with me in case I ran into a dog. I took the stick.

I was later assigned to an infantry medical company and drove a litter jeep to pick up the wounded. Four months later, we were engaged in a serious battle. I was only doing my job as usual but was awarded the Bronze Star. Praise God for His mercy and protection.
—John Gramm, Gridley, Illinois