MIRACULOUS: TRUE STORY OF THE CHILD AND PADRE OF GUADALCANAL

By Robert Thomas Fertig

TRUE STORY OF THE CHILD AND PADRE OF GUADALCANAL

During World War II, this “Child of Miracles” gives hope to thousands of Marines during some of the deadliest battles in the Pacific.

The story opens with fierce battles raging between the Japanese and Marines for control of Henderson airfield on Guadalcanal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LitFire Publishing
• Release date: Aug 8, 2019
• ISBN: 9781643989037

Robert Thomas Fertig

"After receiving an honorable discharge from the USAF, in the mid-1950s, Robert Thomas Fertig worked at the Columbia University Physics Lab, setting up experiments for graduate-level students. Soon thereafter, he became an Information Technology travelling instructor for General Electric. He later joined Sperry Univac, as Competitive Analyst, where he created the popular Corporate Newsletter, "Industry Measures." Fertig then moved to Advanced Computer Techniques, as Vice President of the Technology Analysis Group. Subsequently, he founded Enterprise Information Systems, as President. Robert T. Fertig is the author and/or co-author of ten books. His more recent works include Guardianship Reality, Consequences, Culture Battles, Middle East Quicksand (a novel and possible future TV series), and Best Interests of the Children. Mr. Fertig also spent a total of ten years as Guardian ad Litem volunteer and Eldercare. "

Book preview

cov.jpg

MIRACULOUS

THE TRUE STORY OF THE CHILD

AND PADRE OF GUADALCANAL

Copyright © 2019 by Fertig Christian Trust, LLC

ISBN: 978-1-64398-903-7

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Although every precaution has been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assumed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within.

Printed in the United States of America

LitFire LLC

1-800-511-9787

www.litfirepublishing.com

[e-mail]

Contents

Prologue

Introduction

Dream of China

China Assignment

China’s Walled City

Kiangsi Province

General Chiang Kai-shek

Vincentian Mission Renewal

Ringing the Angelus

Communist Attack

Mission Impossible

Communist Rising Tide

Guadalcanal Mission

Tokyo Express

Admiral Halsey’s Promise

Espiritu Santo Island

Evacuating Missionaries

Solomon Savages

A Mother’s Appeal

Shanghai to Singapore

Evacuation by Sea

The Kuala Disaster

The Search for Patsy

Fortunetellers and Mediums

Diplomatic Assurances

Prison Searches

Wild-Goose Chase

Jumble of Evidence

A Mother’s Resolve

She is Not My Child!

Evidence from Letters

She is My child!

Will You Take Patsy?

Singapore to Virginia

Power of Love

The Moses’ Model

From Darkness to Light

The Wedding

Epilogue

Awakening of China

Summary of Individual & Societal Truths:

Summary Father Frederic P. Gehring

FR. FREDERIC P. GEHRING’S FUNERAL

The Miraculous Medal

Guadalcanal Medal of Honor Winners

Prologue

The island of Guadalcanal, part of the Solomon Islands, is a thick jungle, with insects, snakes, crocodiles, anopheles mosquitoes, extremely humid climate, and it is hot as hell. The island has sharp corals limiting access to its shores; rivers that hinder movement; malaria and dengue. The Japanese landed in May 1942, and started building an airstrip nearby at a local site named Lunga Point. Strategically, their plan was clear; it is, to completely isolate Australia and they are about to succeed.

The Commander in Chief of the US Navy, Admiral Ernest King wants an operation to secure the island. He does not have time to lose; he must land at Guadalcanal and take the island before it is too late. Europe has always had priority in World War II, but after the battles of the Coral Sea and Midway, the time to launch an offensive in the Pacific has finally arrived.

The First Marine Division, strengthened by paratroopers, has the task to land at Guadalcanal, under the cover of the aircraft carriers commanded by Admiral Frank Fletcher. Major General Alexander Vandergrift is the commander of the First Marine Division on Guadalcanal.

On the eve of the landing, the Marines know nothing about their enemy. Except for so-called Landsknechts veterans and some professional Marines, most of the troops have never had combat before; almost none know where the Salomon Islands are located; and they have limited information about its climate, terrain, and tides. In addition, an experienced enemy is waiting for them. The Japanese soldiers are fierce, well equipped, better armed, and hardened by nearly a thousand earlier jungle war struggles.

On August 7 1942, the Marines land almost without opposition at Guadalcanal. On Beach Red, the first supplies are landing. While withdrawing, the Japanese left many war materials and some food.

Admiral Fletcher’s decision creates the first significant calamity. He promised to remain until all the supplies and the heavy equipment have landed; however, the Japanese attacked his aircraft carriers. While the damage is insignificant, nevertheless, the admiral is worried. He is afraid of the enemy’s possible return; he is afraid that his luck might run out. After all, he thinks, the landing has succeeded and everything turned out all right, so far. The Marines are ashore, no enemy ships are currently in view, so the Admiral decides it is more prudent to steam away to protect his fleet. On the other hand, he leaves the Marines isolated, without sufficient supplies for six months. Hence begins the bloody battle of Guadalcanal.

We dedicate this book to the charitable works of Vincentian Missions worldwide, and to Father Frederic P. Gehring’ s heroic sacrifices in China, especially in Guadalcanal, and to the Navy and Marine men who never came home from Guadalcanal to hear the True Story of their Child of Miracles, Patsy Li.

Introduction

My cousin, Father Frederic P. Gehring, was one generation ahead of me. We lived just a few blocks from each other, in Brooklyn. We both received our primary education at St. John’s school. Our early roots in the Christian faith started there as well, and we were altar boys. His sister Marietta took me to their home across from my school, and talked for hours about her brother’s exploits in China, during the war in the Pacific. Father Freddy adventures inspired me, as told by Marietta, who was also my art teacher.

Father Gehring came home from what he believed was his ineffective Vincentian Mission of Charity in China. He had an eye infection that forced him to return to America, while many of his companions stayed in China and experienced both Communist and Japanese life-threatening dangers. In truth, he was incorrect thinking that his mission in China was fruitless; he actually saved hundreds of poor Chinese lives.

*The original story in 1962, which focused on Patsy Li, did NOT identify the true source of these Miraculous events. The Catholic Church, without documented proof of such events, does not allow use of the term Miracle. Consequently, after researching the historical events, this writer concludes that clearly Patsy Li was the receiver of a miraculous cure. On the other hand, Father Gehring, the Padre of Guadalcanal, was the instrument of the Lord’s miraculous acts. Predictably, Father Freddy did not want to take any credit for these phenomenal events. That is why this author changed the title to: Miraculous, and subtitle to: True Story of the Padre of Guadalcanal.

Subsequently, I have produced a Derivative Work,. Moreover, I created a Screenplay for a Movie or TV series. At all times, I have tried to preserve the accuracy of these historical events. With these objectives in mind, I changed the storyline making it more present tense, while creating new vivid scenes. I also found new materials and photos from the Vincentian Mission in Germantown, Pa. However, the actual voice from the past is that of the late Padre of Guadalcanal.

During my investigation for this work, I communicated directly with Patsy Li. What I learned from our discussions was unexpected, which significantly alters part of the assumptions and conclusions of the original story. I have included these astonishing new facts in this book. The Vincentians generously allowed me to stay with them, examine, and use materials found in their archives, with the support of a skilled researcher. With Vincentian’s consent, newly found materials are included this book.

Many of today’s generation have not experienced the suffering and trauma of war, or the amazing charity of missionaries, and a mother’s love for her child, which is self-sacrificing love. Perhaps Father Freddy’s voice from the past may help millennials appreciate what real love is all about.

Fig.1 Photo of Frederic P. Gehring.

Source: Vincentian archives

Captain Rev. Frederic P. Gehring was the first Naval Chaplain to receive the Legion of Merit Medal from the President of United States, and the Presidential Unit Citation, for his heroic work on Guadalcanal. He also served with American combat forces on the islands of New Guinea and Woodlark, and assigned to an attack transport that brought the first contingent of troops from the Philippines to Japan. (The chapter on China was abridged in order to focus on the main story; i.e., Guadalcanal).

Dream of China

His name was Charlie Wong. My Chinese laundrymen exuded so much effervescence in the neighborhood, that they named him, Jolly Charlie or Jolly Wong. I never learned about the squalor that dogged the lives of China’s teeming millions (today, about 1.4 billion people). Jolly Charlie happily forgotten all that, once he found passage on the ship that took him from the Orient to America. His stories for me are of China’s breathtaking spectacles: Great mountains and valleys; strange rivers that acquired a yellow color; the Grand Canal; and the Great Wall, built by human hands, which stretched more than 1,500 miles. He spoke of colorful costumes, pageantry, pagodas, temples and festivals. Many people live on fleets of little houseboats, especially those who did not want any roots on shore.

According to Charlie, he had discerned in me, the spirit of Marco Polo. From time to time, Charlie and I would discuss the possibility of my becoming an importer when I grew up, so I could go to China on matters of trade. At other times, we agreed I would go to China as a sea captain, a salesperson of American goods, or a teacher of English or German.

My father, Louis Gehring, had a store and factory in the German section of Greenpoint, Brooklyn, where he manufactured wax candles and artificial flowers that were popular in the early 1900’S. We lived above the factory. My brother Louis, Jr. was born in 1902 and I came a year later, followed in due course by my sister Marietta.

Soon after I was born, Dad’s business spurted to the point where he had fifty women working for him, mostly young immigrants who newly arrived from Germany. He then decided to follow other residents of the community who were moving to the fashionable Bushwick section. On Willoughby Avenue, Brooklyn, he and Mother bought a new, three-story brownstone home. We were directly across from St. John the Baptist’s Church, Prep School and College, run by Vincentian fathers.

The love of music, so treasured in Bavarian German families, was an integral part of our lives. Mother played the piano and Dad’s proud boast was that he owned one of the first gramophones ever to come on the market. In our home, musical education commenced simultaneously for Marietta, Louis, and myself. Marietta played the piano and Louis and I played violins. Dad arranged for an Italian musician, who owned a shop nearby, to give us lessons twice a week and set up a rigid schedule of daily practice. One of Dad’s first questions when he came home from the factory each day was, How was your practice?

Fig.2 Father Freddy playing his violin. Vincentian archives*

My decision to become a Vincentian happened on my last semester at St. John’s Prep School, but it had been building in the back of my mind for several years. The thread of deep religious conviction had run through the entire history of the Gehring clan, and one of Dad’s proudest possessions was a fragment of the True Cross, which had been carried in the Crusades, and had been handed down from generation to generation.

When the priest asked me if I wanted to wear the cassock of an altar boy, I jumped at the opportunity. I soon found myself learning Latin and getting up at five A.M. to serve two Masses each morning. The Diocesan Seminary attached to St. John’s would frequently congregate on our front stoop to chat with Dad. Their wonderful spirit and sense of dedication stirred in me the desire that someday I would wish to be one of them.

My obsession with China remained as strong as ever, but I now found I had to adjust my childhood ambition to my growing conviction that I belonged in the Church. The Vincentian teachers showed me how I could reconcile my two drives. I could steer my course to the Orient, not as a sea captain, a vagabond, an importer, but as a missionary!

One evening, Dad brought home a story in a Catholic publication, which described the work of the old French missionaries in China. We were busy discussing it when we heard pounding on our front door. It was our neighbor Mr. Blum, red-faced and strangely agitated. Come quickly, Louis, your place is on fire, he cried.

By the time, firefighters’ doused the last few cinders, the building and everything in it, representing a lifetime of work, was in total ruin. The only thing we found later, miraculously unharmed, was a wax figure of the Holy Virgin Mother of Christ.

In 1921, my last year at St. John’s Prep, the Holy Father (Pope) asked for American priests and Sisters to volunteer for the Chinese missions just as my teachers had predicted. Vincentian missions claimed the province of Kiangsi. The Jesuits took over missions in North China. Dominicans went to Fukien Province and the offshore islands. Franciscans headed for Hupei. Passionate fathers went to Hunan. Maryknolls took Kwantung, a strip of southern China, where the first American foreign mission seminaries was established.

After graduation in 1925, I began my novitiate and seminary studies at the Vincentian headquarters in Germantown, Pennsylvania. My preoccupation with the Orient and interest in every element of Chinese gossip and news, whether it was news of the new missions there or of the internal strife that plagued them, and strife that overwhelmed the country, soon earned me the nickname of China Boy. I lived up to the name in earnest in my final year of study. I took a special course in elementary Chinese. Together with a classmate named Freddie McGuire, I started a Crusade Society to help the missions in China.

* * *

China Assignment

I was ordained in May 1930, and promptly assigned to the Vincentian Mission in China headed by Bishop John A. O’Shea. Then we received alarming news. The Chinese Communists, who had been engaged in guerrilla warfare against the coalition government of General Chiang Kai-shek, had burst through Chiang’s defenses in Kiangsi and had occupied virtually the entire province. They had sealed off the province to foreigners, meaning that no new missionaries could get in.

Late in 1932, when we were in Connecticut, the word came through that the situation in Kiangsi had eased and that missionaries could be there again. The early winter months of 1933 were a grand episode in frustration for me. Then came the spring, and sunshine. From Germantown came word that I would leave on the night of May 9 for San Francisco. There, I would board the President Coolidge, which was to be my slow boat to China. Two other missionaries would accompany me. One of them, Father George Erbe, was a veteran of the Orient, returning to his mission after a period of sick leave in the States. The other was Father Frank Melvin, a raw recruit like myself.

* * *

China’s Walled City

The missionaries arrive in Shanghai harbor on the morning of June 11, 1933. The Vicariate is in one of the deepest inland walled cities in South China. The city was Kanchow, in Kiangsi Province. As they waited for the ship to dock, Father Erbe talks about his early experiences in China. For eleven years, I was in Kiangsi Province, transforming a small village into a Christian community of more than three thousand souls. I laid the foundation stone for a school and a flourishing church. There is so much to be done in China that it almost scares one to think about it, and so the best thing is just to go ahead and do it.

China is like a giant that had been restlessly tossing in his sleep for centuries. Its ancient philosophers had been brilliant men, among the first on earth to preach the ‘beauty of peace and good fellowship.’ Yet this land rarely has known much peace. For centuries, tribal wars had bathed its almost infinite landscape in red. Then, when it seems to be achieving some semblance of unity and harmony, new civil wars appear, and now the nightmare of aggression by Japan. The best of China’s old customs are gone and it is in a state of ferment. It badly needs the missionary spirit and zeal to bring it new faith in ancient but still current values and beliefs.

Father Melvin and Gehring studied for their missionary work at the Vincentian Seminary in Germantown, Pennsylvania. They naturally read about the Japanese attack in the newspapers, but it somehow seemed unreal. They could not believe that a civilized nation like Japan could be guilty of such atrocities.

The Bishop woke them up very early. If you don’t hurry, he said, you will miss the bus. By the light of a single flickering lamp, they groped for cassocks and stumbled about the dim room hastily stuffing trunks and jamming lids down. Then, still half asleep, they joined the Bishop in the mission yard. Let us say Mass and have our breakfast, he said. "There is still a little time before you must leave. While we eat, I will tell you about a miraculous event."

There is a new China in the making, the Bishop said. You will see the first sign of it shortly, but perhaps only Father Erbe will be able to appreciate what he sees. In the few short months that have passed since he left his mission, changes have taken place in this country the like of which have not been seen for a thousand years.

The Bishop’s eyes sparkled as he leaned toward us across the table. The miraculous development I am speaking of is a road, he said. It is such a road as we missionaries have never before dreamed of. Thousands and thousands of coolie laborers are building it. They have no modem machines as we have in the West, but they are building this miraculous road with their bare hands. The coolies haul all the stone and dirt. They hammered stones piled together with huge hand-made weights. Soon, for the first time in the history of China, there will be wide automobile highways reaching into the interior. The first stage of your trip-which Father Erbe well knows required five or six days by foot—will now be accomplished in just four hours.

* * *

Kiangsi Province

Ever since 1927, when Chiang Kai-shek began fighting the Communists, rebel bands have had a perfect hideout in the inaccessible mountain country of Kiangsi. Chiang drove the Reds from Nanking, Canton, and Shanghai, but his troops have never been able to penetrate their stronghold in Kiangsi Province. Right now, there are about eighty thousand Reds in the Kiangsi Mountains. Several times a year, they swoop down to terrorize the countryside. They brazenly proclaim the capital of what they call ‘Soviet China’ in Kiangsi."

Fig.3 Kanchow China. Priest on horseback. Vincentian archives.*

Their apprehension did not escape the Bishop’s notice. I’m sure our confreres will be happy to know that the same road they travel to Kanchow is also used to bring up Nationalist troops for a major campaign against the Reds, he said, with a wink at Father Erbe. Doubtlessly, the Kanchow Vicariate will soon be as peaceful as any parish in Brooklyn.

Some of those Brooklyn parishes are pretty lively, Father Gehring replied, managing a smile. But it’s nice to know that Chiang’s offensive is sure to succeed.

The thought is encouraging, Father Erbe agreed. I remember feeling very hopeful when Chiang launched his last offensive.

You mean the Nationalists have tried unsuccessfully before this? Father Gehring asks.

Oh, yes. If I recall correctly, this campaign will be Chiang’s fifth. There is a lot of shooting, of course, and sometimes the Reds get so mad that they launch a little offensive of their own, which makes life a bit challenging for the missionaries. You can get used to anything after a while. The first attack generally seems the worst.

I am beginning to suspect, said Father Melvin, that one still needs more than a white cassock and a bus ticket to be a missionary in China.

It was still dark when the missionaries arrive at the tiny