“Also I heard the voice of the Lord saying, whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.” (Isaiah 6:8 – KJV) From the time Vincent Capodanno was a young boy in the Italian section of New York City, he wanted to be a missionary priest. His courage was tested eight times in Vietnam when he voluntarily went out of “the wire” with the Marines he was assigned to. He received the Medal of Honor after he gave the last rites to one of his friends as the Viet Cong ambushed the Delta, Bravo, and Mike Kilo companies of the 15th Regiment in 1966 around Kai Son. With his back to the enemy, he took twenty-seven shots from a fifty caliber gun in his back, killing him instantly. When news of his death reached the medic center, everyone cried because they knew his sacrifice was what brought him to the chaplaincy. No greater love is there than to give yourself for another; his sacrifice was done, on his knees, loving his men back into God’s arms as the light faded from their eyes.
C.S. Lewis once wrote, “Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.” Vincent told his mother he wanted to become a missionary priest, going to places where, quite possibly, Christ’s voice hadn’t been heard. Two events shaped his decision: his father died in an accident on the docks of New York City where he worked and the shock of seeing Mussolini come to power in Italy before WWII. To immigrant Italians, serving in the armed forces of the United States was a great honor, one that Vincent’s brothers did not hesitate to join. As a young teenager, Vincent’s hero was Douglas MacArthur, and his favorite hymn was “The Star Spangled Banner.”
He studied for nine years at the Maryknoll Seminary and was given his first assignment in the back woods area of Taiwan, China, where the people were struggling economically, physically, spiritually, and politically against Communism. In 1961, in the middle of his six years of service there, his mother died, but he was unable to return for the funeral. The Church directed him to teach English in Hong Kong, where his health began to deteriorate. While he was convalescing, he petitioned the Church to allow him to enlist in the navy chaplaincy program, and after several months of training, he stepped foot in Vietnam in April of 1966 to serve with the First Battalion of the Seventh Regiment of marines in Chu Lai City.
He soon realized that as the 200,000 marines arrived “in country,” many nineteen and twenty year old soldiers were not only afraid of what they would face but were also concerned about having prayers said for them before they went on their missions. These men were magnetically drawn to Father Vincent because he made them feel better when they were around him. Father Vincent gave not only loving and inspiring sermons of encouragement and faith but also gave St. Christopher medals to the men, which they religiously wore around their necks, even if they weren’t believers. He was fearless and soft-spoken; he was firm with all of the men. He counseled them to not lose their humanity when faced with seeing the murderous acts of the Viet Cong experienced by their fellow marines, to maintain their values of right and wrong taught by their parents.
Father Vincent could have gone home permanently after his first year of service, but he decided to ask for an extension of that time. When he did finally return home for R-n-R, he saw an American society that no longer supported the war and wanted their boys to come home. Even though many Catholics also opposed the war, Father Vincent believed his place was on the battlefield, not on the battlefield of social protest. He returned to Vietnam to serve with the Fifth Company of marines in the Fifteenth Regiment near Kai Son. At this point, Americans were fighting to stop the North Viet Cong from over-running South Vietnam and hopefully, to stop the “Domino Effect” of Communism in SE Asia. It was in this area where Father Vincent courageously lost his life.
Father Vincent Capodanno died doing what he thought God wanted him to do. His funeral procession in New York City was greeted by thousands of people who truly understood what his sacrifice meant. His casket was not spit on; he was not called “a baby killer” as so many returning soldiers were called. His cousin remarked that Vincent wouldn’t have liked receiving the Medal of Honor in December, 1968, because his service was not about garnering medals. It was about being a humble, faithful, and loving servant to the people around him and to God. The Catholic Church began his canonization as a saint in 2006.
I often ponder when I am called to do the right thing or to serve my neighbors, will I courageously volunteer for what God asks of me? As wars continue around the world and America is called for help, will we answer the call as a nation or will this divided nation go off the deep end because we can’t agree on what our real values are? Recently, a terrible medical crisis has developed with marines and their families who served at Camp Lejeune from 1953 through 1987. These service members and their family members who lived on the base were drinking contaminated water. President Biden just signed a bill offering compensation to the marines and their families who have died or are dying from various forms of cancer in their older years. The same thing is true for many of our returning veterans who are crowding VA hospitals with their medical conditions caused by serving in dangerous conditions. When we ask our men and women to put their lives on the line for us and others, we must support them in their hours of anguish, pain, and death. Like Father Vincent, they feel their place is on the battlefield, defending our rights and the rights of those who cannot defend themselves. Like him, their bodies are bearing the wounds that we cannot or will not accept ourselves. When God called, they said, “Here I am, Lord!”
I have answered God’s call three times in my life: to be a fine musician in churches as His servant, to be the best possible teacher I could be, and to pick up my pen after years of silence and write what I think the world needs to hear. I stand before Him every Sunday and say, “Here I am, Lord; send me. Use me as an instrument of Thy peace in this cold and indifferent world. Help me to be Your light wherever I go and to love as You have loved me.” Are you listening for His call?
Biography details provided from “The Field Afar: the Life of Father Vincent Capodanno”
Anna Hartt
