By
Hannah Yu
I stood in line at the recruitment station in downtown Trenton, New Jersey, waiting for my name to be called. The war had been going on for two years already and with the bombing of Pearl Harbor, the US had entered the war. I nervously shifted from one foot to the other as the line of men in front of me moved slowly forward. After almost two hours of waiting, it was finally my turn. The man behind the table was in his mid-fifties, muscular, cropped salt and pepper hair, tanned skin, and had steely gray eyes. His voice though, unlike his stern physical appearance, was commanding but gentle.
“Name?”
“Joel Bradley.”
“Age?”
“Twenty.”
I handed him the file containing all the necessary information about me. He looked through it and then sent me to the back to have my physical. Afterwards, the doctor asked out of curiosity,
“Where do you want to be stationed son?”
“Europe sir. I’ve always wanted to go there.”
He nodded, looked over the results of my physical, and then my medical record.
“Well Mr. Bradley, you’re cleared to be stationed in the Pacific.”
I was stunned. The Pacific? Why there? The doctor seemed to have read my thoughts because he said,
“You’re a healthy young man, but being a foot soldier over in Europe won’t help us. The sea air will be better for you.”
I nodded, understanding that he was talking about my lungs. I finished tying my tie, thanked the doctor, and left the room. The recruiter's parting words to me were,
“Report to the San Francisco navy training base by December 15th.”
I went home, packed up my stuff, and left for California.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After months of constant, grueling training, everyone at the base were put on ships and sent to Hawaii. We had received news about the Battle of the Coral Sea and that we had won the battle. That heartened us and the trip to Hawaii, though watchful, wasn’t tense. We arrived. We were split into our divisions. Ships were being repaired, provisions were being gathered. Then towards the end of May, we received orders to head out into the Pacific. The Yorktown was repaired in 72 hours and we headed to Midway. June 4, 1942, dawned bright and clear, but few of us noticed. The battle was underway. The fighter planes were up in the sky, engaged in a massive dogfight while the bomber and torpedo planes planes attacked the ships below. For those of us on the ships, we worked in shifts. For three days, the battle raged. In the early morning of June 7, 1942, I was up on the deck of the USS Hammann when a torpedo hit us. I was thrown to the deck as she began to break in half. That’s when I heard the yell. Looking to my right, I saw my captain trapped under some wreckage. I stood up, ran over to him, and started to dig him out. As the deck became submerged in water, he looked at me and said,
“Go and save yourself Bradley!”
“Sorry to argue sir, but I’m not going till you’re free.”
Then the deck sank. I took a deep breath and dove down, grabbed Captain Wilson by the back of his shirt collar, and hauled him up. Shortly after, a lifeboat picked us up.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
(Afterwards)
I didn’t understand at first why God had placed me in the Pacific Theater for the war until after Midway. Now I know that He wanted me there to save my commander’s life. After the battle, we continued to fight till the end of the war and I had several opportunities to save lives and I spared the lives of several Japanese. I was part of the group that helped clean up Nagasaki after the atomic bomb was dropped and that’s where I met my wife. I praise the Lord every day that He saw fit to use me as a tool of salvation for my comrades and my “enemies”, the Japanese. While serving in the navy, I wrote a poem and years after my wife and I were married, she found it and put the poem to music.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of
Wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible
Swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watchfires of a hundred circling
Camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and
Damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring
Lamps;
His day is marching on.
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
His day is marching on.
I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel;
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall
Deal;
Let the hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on."
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Since God is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call
Retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgement
Seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant,
My feet!
Our God is marching on.
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Since God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the
Sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, glory! Hallelujah!
While God is marching on.
~ Joel Bradley
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