Joseph O’Callahan, Chaplain of the USS Franklin, Earns The Medal of Honor

Off the Coast of Japan, March 1945

Lieutenant Commander Joseph O’Callahan, the Catholic chaplain aboard the USS Franklin, an Essex-class “fast carrier,” sat in the officers’ wardroom with his friends near dawn, on a chilly day in March 1945¹. The Franklin was one of fifteen carriers and numerous battleships, cruisers, and destroyers making up Task Force 58. Led by Admiral Marc Mitscher, their mission was to reduce the number of Japanese Kamikaze planes and create as much destruction as possible to their airfields prior to the invasion of Okinawa. Their secondary mission was to destroy any Imperial Japanese ships found in or near their home ports.²

O’Callahan and his fellow shipmates were tired from being called to general quarters numerous times during the night as the radar showed Japanese aircraft probing the darkness attempting to find the carriers. On this, the morning of 19 March, the Franklin had already begun to launch aircraft to participate in the mission’s second day of airstrikes. The ship’s captain, Leslie Gehres, had lowered readiness to a modified Condition 3 which allowed the tired men not manning anti-aircraft guns to leave their posts for rest or a hot meal.³

Father Joe, as he was known throughout the ship, along with Lieutenant “Red” Morgan and Lieutenant Commander Tommy Greene, were razzing the steward’s mate, Tom Frasure, about the “quality” of the cold French Toast, or as they called it, “fried bread.”⁴

The Devil Boards The Franklin

While the officers and the steward’s mate bantered, a Japanese bomber snuck through multiple layers of the task force’s defenses and dropped two bombs* penetrating Franklin’s wooden flight deck and exploding on the hangar deck below.  On the flight deck, thirty-one aircrew sat in their planes with engines running, all armed with ammunition and carrying either bombs or a Tiny Tim rocket. Twenty-two were in the hangar, one deck down,  in various stages of readiness, many surrounded by bombs, rockets, or ammunition waiting to be loaded onto the aircraft.⁵

The first bomb detonated at or just above the armored hangar deck blowing a hole in it which destroyed or warped the bulkheads and offices on the deck below. The explosion caused massive damage to the air plot and Combat Information Center (CIC) just above the explosion.⁶

The second bomb detonated at the same time or a second or two after the first exploded, just below the gallery deck and above the parked planes changing the hangar into a hellscape. These explosions ruptured their fuel tanks creating rapidly spreading fires and a massive gasoline vapor cloud which then exploded shooting flames up the elevator wells and out the sides of the open hangar deck. The shock waves from these explosions knocked airplanes on the flight deck above into each other. Their spinning propellers sliced into the other aircraft and their bombs and rockets caused more explosions and fires. This triggered a chain reaction as spilled gasoline ignited and bombs, rockets, and ammunition began to detonate.⁷ The noise from the explosions was so loud Admiral Mitscher, in his flagship on board the carrier USS Bunker Hill, heard them even though the Franklin was, to them, below the horizon.⁸

About two hundred men were in a chow line on the hangar deck that stretched from there down a ladder to the mess below. They were instantly killed; many were found naked as their clothes had been blown off them.⁹

“…Helmeted With The Cross…”

One deck below, Father Joe and the others in the wardroom mess were knocked to the deck. In his memoir, he recounted:

Those first moments were given over to instinct, the mad clutch for life. But I followed blind instinct only for a split second until my mind focused.¹⁰

Within seconds, he reported, more than one hundred sailors fled into the wardroom. Twice massive explosions knocked them off their feet.¹¹ Volunteers were sent to find exits to safety. Reports came back that there was no escape aft, and that one route forward was blocked. The only way out was through the hangar deck to the fo’c’sle.

The group then worked its way up and forward. Their escape took them past a bulkhead next to the forward elevator. A massive explosion lifted the elevator and dropped it askew back into its well. The men were once again thrown to the deck and this time there was panic,  many rushing to climb through an escape hatch that would only allow one person through at a time.

“Here, boys, single file, one at a time through the manhole. Take your turn, Reilly; we’ll all get out faster. I’ll wait my turn. Now, get in single file.” Because my words were clear and loud they commanded respect and inspired confidence.¹²

The group arrived safely in the fo’c’sle where the junior aviators’ bunk room had been turned into an impromptu hospital. Because it was near his own berth, Father Joe detoured there and grabbed his helmet, his life belt, which was torn, and the vial containing the holy oils.

And thus, belted with a defective float, helmeted with the cross, carrying the holy oils for the dying, I went in search of my proper work.¹³

Hell On The Flight Deck

He returned to the makeshift hospital and ministered to the dead, dying, and wounded. When he had done everything he could do, he headed to the flight deck. There he found all but 100 feet of the deck consumed with towering flames and billowing smoke.¹⁴

The one hundred feet clear of flame was strewn with bodies: burned bodies, mangled, bleeding bodies; everywhere the stench of burned flesh, the sound of deep groans, the clammy feel of men already dead. This was our flight deck.¹⁵

Again, he found his proper work. Commander Stephen Jurika, the ship’s navigator, observed O’Callahan from the bridge where he saw him giving Extreme Unction to the mortally wounded lying on the deck. Jurika watched as a Tiny Tim missile ignited and flew down the flight deck over the chaplain’s head.¹⁶

Father Joe noticed that firefighting crews had been formed by several officers. He watched as the hose handlers would dive for the deck when explosions went off, then stand up, grab the hoses, and return to fighting the fires.¹⁷

O’Callahan went from tending to the dead and wounded to recruiting men for firefighting crews. As one group would grow exhausted, another would take over. O’Callahan kept recruiting men as replacements.¹⁸ 

“…At Least I’ll Go With A Priest.”

Marine Corporal Mike Sansome of VMF-214 recounted:

“Father O’Callahan asked me to help with the hoses, but the first couple of times he asked, I declined. I was part of the aviation group and I wasn’t trained in firefighting. He had a very calm presence about him and he insisted, and I finally agreed to go.”¹⁹

Sam Rhodes WT3/c B Division remembered:

: “A little while later Father Joe came up to me and said, ‘Sailor, help me with this!” and I asked, “Help you with what?” and he said, ‘Well, this bomb…Help me roll it off the ship.’ We started rolling it and told him, ‘It’s burning my hands! and he said, ‘We don’t have far to go.’ I thought, ’Well…If I go up with the bomb, at least I’ll go with a priest.’”²⁰

At  0952 a huge explosion happened when the after five-inch ready service magazine blew up.²¹ Parts of the ship, airplanes, and human beings rose in the air, then fell back to the carrier’s deck or into the ocean.²²

By 1000 the ship was dead in the water.²³ The USS Santa Fe had evacuated hundreds of the crew and by early afternoon it was estimated that there were only 350 crew alive and still onboard the ship.²⁴

“That’s about the bravest man I’ve ever seen.”

—Captain Gehres Watching Father O’Callahan Enter The 5-inch Turret

Lieutenant Commander William McKinney, the ship’s gunnery officer, was concerned about the ammunition stored in the forward five-inch gun turret. He knew if it exploded, as had the ammunition in the after magazine earlier, it would kill hundreds and perhaps doom the carrier.  Father O’Callahan, understanding the need to empty the turret, left, and recruited more than enough men to form a human chain to empty the ammunition and throw it overboard. Despite his claustrophobia, which had plagued him his entire life, he entered the turret and helped remove the ammunition. As the first group became overwhelmed with the smoke, the father recruited another group and stayed with them until the task was completed.²⁵

Throughout the day he delivered messages from Captain Gehres either in person to the surviving officers or, via the one surviving telephone line, to the men trapped in the aft steering room assuring them Captain Gehres would get them out.²⁶

When he was not delivering messages from the captain to other officers, O’Callahan helped Lt. Stanley Graham, the ship’s fire marshal. The chaplain and Lt. Graham found a passage to the hangar deck filled with thick smoke which choked their lungs and prevented them from seeing anything. As they explored, they could hear explosions and the crackle of flames. When they reached the hangar, they found the deck was not as smoke-filled and there were no great fires. They returned to the flight deck to lead a crew of firefighters back to fight the fires.²⁷

The men continued to fight efforts to save the ship and to rescue those still trapped below. By 1813, eleven hours after the bombs fell, the fires were largely out.²⁸

As evening fell, the grim task of finding the dead and giving them a respectful burial at sea took priority. The ship needed to be cleared of wreckage, repairs made where possible, and the dead located and given an honorable burial at sea. Father Joe carried many of the corpses up the ladders to the hangar deck to prepare them for burial. Carrying the bodies up the steep ladders “was the source of several nightmares since.”²⁹

Earlier in the afternoon, the ship had been taken under tow by the USS Pittsburgh, a heavy cruiser. The Pittsburgh was able to stop the Franklin from drifting closer to the coast of Japan but was only able to tow her at a speed of about six knots. Hours later, Franklin’s crew was able to restore power. The number 3 boiler was relit using the only thing handy,  a Zippo lighter.³⁰ As the power came back online, the ship was gradually able to provide its own propulsion and eventually cast off the tow line. From there it traveled back to Ulithi, then to Pearl Harbor, and finally on to the Brooklyn Naval Yard, a journey of 12,000 miles.

The Franklin Becomes The US Navy’s Most Decorated Crew

On Thursday, May 17, not two months after the attack, an awards ceremony was held on the deck of the carrier. 231 awards would be given out. Later, Navy Crosses were awarded to the captains of the USS Santa Fe and the USS Miller for their actions. And while the ship’s crew remains the most decorated in US Navy history, those, who were there, including Captain Gehres, will tell you that there were many other acts of courage and leadership that went unrewarded.³¹

Two who did not receive recognition that day were Father O’Callahan and Lieutenant (j.g.) Donald Gary. They would each receive the Medal Of Honor, the military’s highest decoration, from President Harry Truman at a White House Ceremony in January 1946.

After The War

Father Joe would be reassigned to the Navy’s Office of Public Information as chaplain in June of 1945. A few months later he was transferred to the USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CV-42) a Midway-class carrier, much larger than the Franklin.³² 

In November of 1946, he was removed from the active-duty roster and became a part of the Inactive Naval Reserve. He was administratively promoted to Captain and transferred to the retirement list in 1953.³³

He returned to teaching at the College of the Holy Cross but suffered from what is now called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).³⁴ A heavy smoker with hypertension, he suffered the first of several strokes in 1949.³⁵ He never fully recovered.

He suffered another stroke in March 1964 and while in the hospital,  yet another. He died on March 18, 1964.³⁶ Across the International Dateline, off the coast of Japan, it was March 19, the 19^th anniversary of the attack on the Franklin.

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*Some dispute whether two bombs fell or just one. The “two-bomb theory” is mentioned by most who write about the Franklin and can be traced to the U.S.S. Franklin CV-13 War Damage Report, published by the U.S. Navy. Joseph A. Springer, in his book, Inferno: The Epic Life and Death Struggle of the USS Franklin in World War II, (Appendix B) disputes this with eyewitness testimony and traces the source back to the after-action reports written by Captain Gehres and Commander Jurika. (Jurika stated that, from his position on the bridge, he saw two bombs out of the corner of his eye.)

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Sources

¹ O’Callahan, S. J., Joseph T. I Was Chaplain on the Franklin Naval Institute Press. Kindle Edition. 51

²Captain Stephen Jurika, The Reminiscences of Capt. Stephen Jurika, Jr USN (Ret.) Vol II (Annapolis,US Naval Institute, 1979) 627

³Joseph A. Springer, Inferno The Epic Life and Death Struggle of the USS Franklin in World War II, (Minneapolis, MN Zenith Publishing,2007) 194

⁴O’Callahan 51

⁵ US Navy, USS Franklin CV 13 War Damage Report, 15-16

⁶War Damage Report 16

⁷ War Damage Report 16

⁸Samuel Eliot Morison, History of US Naval Operations In World War II Volume XIV Victory in the Pacific 1945 (Little Brown & Co. Boston 1975) 96

⁹Steve Jackson, Lucky Lady: The World War II Heroics Of The USS Santa Fe and Franklin (Carroll & Graf, New York, 2003) 360

¹⁰ O’Callahan 52

¹¹ O’Callahan 56-57

¹² O’Callahan 58

¹³ O’Callahan 59

¹⁴ O’Callahan 58

¹⁵ O’Callahan 66

¹⁶Jurika, Capt. Reminiscences, Vol II. 641

¹⁷ O’Callahan 75

¹⁸ O’Callahan 86

¹⁹Springer, Joseph, Inferno 254

²⁰ Springer, Joseph, Inferno 256-257

²¹USS Franklin Original Documents 1943-1946 (Paducah, KY, Turner Publishing Co. 1994) Decklog 240

²² O’Callahan 87

²³USS Franklin Original Documents, Decklog 240

²⁴ O’Callahan 97

²⁵ O’Callahan 104

²⁶ O’Callahan 110

²⁷ O’Callahan 107

²⁸USS Franklin Original Documents, Decklog 240

²⁹ O’Callahan 122

³⁰ Springer, Joseph, Inferno 267-268

³¹David Davidson, Leslie E. Gehres “Before The Colors Fade: Leslie Gehres: Captain of the Ship That Wouldn’t Sink,” American Heritage Magazine, April 1969, Accessed November 14, 2022, https://www.americanheritage.com/leslie-gehres-captain-ship-wouldnt-die

³²John R. Satterfield, Saving Big Ben: The USS Franklin and Father Joseph T. O’Callahan (Annapolis Naval Institute Press, 2011) 120

³³Satterfield, John R, Saving Big Ben 123

³⁴ Satterfield, John R, Saving Big Ben 125-126

³⁵ Satterfield, John R, Saving Big Ben 126-127

³⁶ Satterfield, John R, Saving Big Ben 133