At 40 years of age, successful Lutheran pastor,
Clarence Walstad, enlisted in the army as a chaplain, leaving behind his wife
and their three young children. These are the touching letters he writes to Ruth
describing his 2 ½ years of army life.
The overriding theme of the letters is his desire for the men in his outfit to come to saving faith in Christ. As his ship nears North Africa, he writes: (4/14/43) The morale of the men is good. Wonderful facilities are provided to keep them occupied. They have access at all times to shelves of books, magazines, parlor games, several pianos, victrolas, etc. But ultimately, morale must depend, not on escape mechanisms, but upon the ‘soul that is fixed on God’ by faith.
One of his early assignments was to work in a hospital unit in Morocco connected to a German and Italian POW camp. In July of 1943, he tells a poignant story of playing his autoharp in his office and having the men in the hospital tents begin to sing along with him. Many of these POWs understand a little English, he wrote. All could follow the music. Because many of the Lutheran hymns he knew had been translated from the German, some prisoners joined in the singing in their own language. We harmonized on “Fairest Lord Jesus”, “Oh, Sacred Head now Wounded”, “When I Survey”, and then ended up by singing “Silent Night” in five languages. Several of them broke down as the familiar strains floated out on the night air. Afterward I spoke to them a little to say that though we are enemies there are some things we all have in common: home, mother, God and the love of Jesus, who came to earth that Christmas Eve. Poor lads, they too believe in the cause for which they have been suffering in this malaria infested hole, for almost two years.
Later he is attached to army units in France and
Germany where the men are fighting and he has little opportunity for church
services. I was complaining to my boys today that there just isn’t an awful
lot a chaplain can do here these days as it is suicide to gather men in groups.
But one of the fellows spoke up and said, “Chaplain, just seeing you around
when the shells are flying, is a help.” One of the soldiers attached to that
unit spoke of it as “an awesome sight to see that big man (6’4”) crawling from
foxhole to foxhole with a message of comfort and encouragement from the Lord to
frightened and anxious soldiers during the heat of battle.”
Walstad’s devotion to his calling, his unstinting acts
of service, and his cheerful acceptance of hardships made for heartwarming
letters that bolstered my faith. Without
a doubt, this will be one of my favorite books of the year.
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