Father Frederic Gehring
There are no great men, there are only great challenges, which ordinary men like you and me are forced by circumstances to meet.
Admiral William Halsey, Jr.
Earlier this week I was watching the movie The Gallant Hours (1960), starring James Cagney as Admiral William Halsey, Jr. (Halsey hated the nickname “Bull” that the press fastened upon him during the War.) The film focuses on the time in late 1942 to 1943 when Halsey was theater commander during the Guadalcanal campaign. This was in tandem with my reading of the latest bio of Halsey, Admiral Bill Halsey: A Naval Life, by Thomas Alexander Hughes.
Halsey is an interesting figure partially because his public image is so at odds with the reality. During World War II Halsey was the “Patton of the Pacific”, a fighting Admiral who swore as he viewed the carnage of Pearl Harbor on December 7, that by the time the US was done the only place that Japanese would be spoken was in Hell. Halsey in the popular perception was a rampaging bull in a Japanese china shop.
The reality was different. Halsey, who got his wings at the advanced age of 52, was an inspired commander of carriers. Strike quick and run was his method in the early days of the War, when his daring carrier raids on Japanese held islands in the Pacific gave a very badly needed boost to national morale. (“I hauled ass with Halsey” was a fond remembrance of veterans of those raids for decades after the War.) However, unlike his unwelcome “Bull” image, Halsey was a thoughtful and careful planner, who paid close attention to such un-glamorous, but essential, topics as logistics and intelligence as he plotted every move his forces made. He was also an officer beloved of his men because of his reputation of making sure that they were taken care of regarding food, leave and mail. Throughout his career Halsey was known as a sailor’s officer who always looked out for the enlisted men under his command. (A typical story told about Halsey by his sailors. On board a carrier sailors were waiting in line for some prized ice cream. An Ensign decides to cut to the head of his line. He suddenly hears a stream of profanity directed at him. He turns around to chew out the sailor cussing him. He finds out that the man yelling at him is four star Admiral Halsey who has been patiently waiting his turn in the line with his men.) Continue reading
Frederic Gehring was probably lucky that he was born and reared in Brooklyn. It has always been a tough town and it prepared him for the adventurous life he was to lead. Born on January 20, 1903, he went on to attend and graduated from Saint John’s Prep. Setting his eyes on being a missionary priest, he entered the minor seminary of the Vincentians, Saint Joseph’s, near Princeton, New Jersey. Earning his BA in 1925, he entered the seminary of Saint Vincent’s in Philadelphia.
Ordained as a priest on May 22, 1930, he was unable to immediately go to China due to military activity of the Communists in Kiangsi province. For three years he traveled throughout the US raising funds for the missions in China, and, at long last, in 1933 he was able to pack his bags and sailed for China. Laboring in the Chinese missions from 1933-1939 in the midst of warlordism, civil war and the invasion of China, commencing in 1937, by Japan must have been tough, but Father Gehring was always up to any challenge. For example, in 1938 Japanese planes strafed a mission he was at. Father Gehring ran out waving a large American flag in hopes that the Japanese would not wish to offend a powerful neutral nation and would stop the strafing. The Japanese planes did fly off, and Father Gehring was pleased until someone at the mission pointed out that maybe the Japanese had simply run out of ammo! In 1939 Father Gerhring returned to the States to raise funds for the missions.