George Fox (1900-1943) lied about his age to enlist in the army during World War I. He served in the ambulance corps in France and suffered a spinal injury during a bombing raid, for which he was awarded a Purple Star. After the war, he returned home to Pennsylvania to earn his high school degree, attend Moody Bible College, and become a Methodist minister, serving several churches in the Midwest. After the attack on Pearl Harbor, which plunged the country into World War II, he said to his wife Isadore, “I’ve got to go.” He enlisted at forty-two, along with his son Wyatt. He was assigned to be a chaplain on the SS Dorchester, a civilian ocean liner converted into a troop transport carrier. In November 1943, he sailed with nine hundred soldiers to join the war effort. Three other chaplains were on board: a Catholic priest, a Protestant minister, and a Jewish rabbi who later became known as the Dorchester chaplains. Early one morning, the ship was torpedoed by an enemy submarine in the North Atlantic, knocking out power and creating utter chaos in the sinking ship. The four chaplains helped sailors into lifeboats and distributed lifejackets from a main deck locker. When they ran out, they gave up their own life preservers. As the ship sank twenty minutes later, they were seen, arms locked in prayer. One survivor who swam away from the sinking ship and was later rescued looked back. The last thing he saw was the Dorchester chaplains praying.
Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15.13). In John’s first epistle, we read, “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters” (1 John 3.16). A fifteenth century prayer by Thomas a Kempis comes to mind: