Former Morton Pastor Praised for Valiant Service at Camp Funston originally published in the St. Paul Dispatch
New York, Aug. 24 – In the last contingent of Knights of Columbus (K. of C) chaplains who arrived overseas, the figure of the Rev. William L. Hart, who had quietly set aside his duties with a Merriam Park parish in St. Paul, loomed conspicuously because of the bronzed skip which showed unmistakably that here was a man whose life with the army had been at least as long as most, if not all, of the stalwart fighting men who sang as they leaped ashore from the transport.
Even among the ministering priests with whom he traveled, however, the story of Father Hart’s devotion to “the boys” back home in the cantonment at Camp Funston – named for one of the best fighting men this country had produces – had not been told. None aboard the transport knew that the priest’s unwillingness to be separated from his soldier charges made gravely doubtful for a time whether he ever would live to make the overseas trip, which for months had been the ruling desire of his life.
“Over There” Now
But he is “over there” now and in the sector where he is serving he has the satisfaction of knowing that more than one of the boys he risked his own life to save is “carrying on” with indomitable spirit against the gray-clad German waves that now and then rise in futile effect to thwart the American advance.
It happened with Father Hart was performing the comparatively unexciting duties of a K. of C. chaplain at Camp Funston. He had gone there immediately on the first mobilization order that sent troop to the cantonment. He was older by many years than most of the other priests who obtained permission to quit their parish duties and go out with the young men who had been called into service.
At the same cantonment eventually at least three other priests were serving – but serving under the military authority conferred by way of an army commission and a regular assignment to the duties of regimental chaplains.
Illness Sweeps Camp
Between the priests, of course, there existed the same generous spirit of hearty co-operation as quickly was displayed between the K. of C. secretaries and chaplains and the men in the camps over the country whom they had gone out to serve.
A few months passed and then came a series of illnesses among the men at Camp Funston which struck many of them down. For a time the spread of the sickness was so rapid as to be almost alarming to the army medical men who were fighting its progress. Many of the men suffered from contagious diseases – diseases that caused them and the hospital wards in which they were patients to be quarantined under the most rigid prohibitive regulations that have been established in any of the local encampments.
It was then that the unswerving devotion of Father Hart manifested itself to such an extent that subsequently he received the personal commendation of the medical authorities at the camp. Father Hart saw the danger from infection, and quietly sought out the army chaplains.
The priests’ duties called on them first to attend to the spiritual comfort of the soldiers. It made no difference whether they were dying of a highly communicable disease. It was the chaplain’s duty to risk that danger and to minister to them. As a volunteer chaplain, however, it was not the specified duty of Father Hart. The regulations imposed the duty on the army chaplains.
The K. of C. (Knights of Columbus) chaplain pointed out convincingly to the younger men that he was their senior in age. He was 52, whereas the military regulation regarding the age of a chaplain made it essential that the younger priests to whom he was talking were several years behind him.
“You young men,” said Father Hart substantially, “have your lives before you. Much of mine has been lived, I am older, I cannot go into the first line of duty overseas. The boys will need you over there. You must not assume the danger that inevitable attaches to this duty. I am able now to minister to these young men. You must save yourselves for the tasks that are yet to come.”
Risked Life Many Times
And so, from then one, Father Hart assumed voluntarily the self-imposed task of risking his own life many times each day by going into the quarantined wards and spending hours among the patients, contact with whom in ordinary circumstances almost certainly spelled death.
Nevertheless, he came through the ordeal without even once suffering illness. In his duties he had with him the prayers of the protesting young army chaplains who insisted on their right to assume at least part of the risk.
Now Father Hart is overseas serving still as a volunteer Knights of Columbus chaplain having been accepted almost immediately on his application to the Rt. Rev. Patrick J. Hayes, chaplain bishop of the American forces at home and overseas. There his duties carry him not only into the base hospitals where army reports show that, fortunately, there are little or none of the contagious diseases present, but up to the battle lines as well. – St. Paul Dispatch.
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Posted: November 27, 2018 by Renville County Historical Society
Former Morton Pastor Praised for Valiant Service at Camp Funston published in the Franklin Tribune August 29, 1918
Former Morton Pastor Praised for Valiant Service at Camp Funston originally published in the St. Paul Dispatch
New York, Aug. 24 – In the last contingent of Knights of Columbus (K. of C) chaplains who arrived overseas, the figure of the Rev. William L. Hart, who had quietly set aside his duties with a Merriam Park parish in St. Paul, loomed conspicuously because of the bronzed skip which showed unmistakably that here was a man whose life with the army had been at least as long as most, if not all, of the stalwart fighting men who sang as they leaped ashore from the transport.
Even among the ministering priests with whom he traveled, however, the story of Father Hart’s devotion to “the boys” back home in the cantonment at Camp Funston – named for one of the best fighting men this country had produces – had not been told. None aboard the transport knew that the priest’s unwillingness to be separated from his soldier charges made gravely doubtful for a time whether he ever would live to make the overseas trip, which for months had been the ruling desire of his life.
“Over There” Now
But he is “over there” now and in the sector where he is serving he has the satisfaction of knowing that more than one of the boys he risked his own life to save is “carrying on” with indomitable spirit against the gray-clad German waves that now and then rise in futile effect to thwart the American advance.
It happened with Father Hart was performing the comparatively unexciting duties of a K. of C. chaplain at Camp Funston. He had gone there immediately on the first mobilization order that sent troop to the cantonment. He was older by many years than most of the other priests who obtained permission to quit their parish duties and go out with the young men who had been called into service.
At the same cantonment eventually at least three other priests were serving – but serving under the military authority conferred by way of an army commission and a regular assignment to the duties of regimental chaplains.
Illness Sweeps Camp
Between the priests, of course, there existed the same generous spirit of hearty co-operation as quickly was displayed between the K. of C. secretaries and chaplains and the men in the camps over the country whom they had gone out to serve.
A few months passed and then came a series of illnesses among the men at Camp Funston which struck many of them down. For a time the spread of the sickness was so rapid as to be almost alarming to the army medical men who were fighting its progress. Many of the men suffered from contagious diseases – diseases that caused them and the hospital wards in which they were patients to be quarantined under the most rigid prohibitive regulations that have been established in any of the local encampments.
It was then that the unswerving devotion of Father Hart manifested itself to such an extent that subsequently he received the personal commendation of the medical authorities at the camp. Father Hart saw the danger from infection, and quietly sought out the army chaplains.
The priests’ duties called on them first to attend to the spiritual comfort of the soldiers. It made no difference whether they were dying of a highly communicable disease. It was the chaplain’s duty to risk that danger and to minister to them. As a volunteer chaplain, however, it was not the specified duty of Father Hart. The regulations imposed the duty on the army chaplains.
The K. of C. (Knights of Columbus) chaplain pointed out convincingly to the younger men that he was their senior in age. He was 52, whereas the military regulation regarding the age of a chaplain made it essential that the younger priests to whom he was talking were several years behind him.
“You young men,” said Father Hart substantially, “have your lives before you. Much of mine has been lived, I am older, I cannot go into the first line of duty overseas. The boys will need you over there. You must not assume the danger that inevitable attaches to this duty. I am able now to minister to these young men. You must save yourselves for the tasks that are yet to come.”
Risked Life Many Times
And so, from then one, Father Hart assumed voluntarily the self-imposed task of risking his own life many times each day by going into the quarantined wards and spending hours among the patients, contact with whom in ordinary circumstances almost certainly spelled death.
Nevertheless, he came through the ordeal without even once suffering illness. In his duties he had with him the prayers of the protesting young army chaplains who insisted on their right to assume at least part of the risk.
Now Father Hart is overseas serving still as a volunteer Knights of Columbus chaplain having been accepted almost immediately on his application to the Rt. Rev. Patrick J. Hayes, chaplain bishop of the American forces at home and overseas. There his duties carry him not only into the base hospitals where army reports show that, fortunately, there are little or none of the contagious diseases present, but up to the battle lines as well. – St. Paul Dispatch.
Category: Franklin Tribune, History, Minnesota, Renville County, World War I Tags: Franklin, minnesota, mn, Renville county, war, world war i