Edward R. Schowalter Jr. and the Medal of Honor in the Korean War

Nov 09 , 2025

Edward R. Schowalter Jr. and the Medal of Honor in the Korean War

He stood with a shattered leg, blood blinding his vision, his rifle empty. Around him, the hillside bled with enemy fire, waves of attackers crashing against a thin line of defenders. Yet Edward R. Schowalter Jr. didn’t fall. Instead, he barked orders, grabbed a spare weapon, and led his men into a counterattack so fierce it bent the tide of an impossible battle.

The Steel in a Young Soldier’s Spirit

Born in March 1927, Schowalter’s grit was forged far from the Korean hills — in the heartland of Indiana, where hard work and faith shaped boys into men. Raised on discipline and quiet resolve, he embodied an old soldier’s creed: “Lead from the front. Never break.”

His faith ran deep — not just words but a tether in chaos. A man who carried scripture in his heart, Psalm 23’s promise of guidance and protection was his unseen armor. This wasn’t a man courting glory. It was a humble warrior bound by duty to something greater than himself.

The Battle That Defined Him

November 25, 1951.

The Korean War had settled into a grinding stalemate, but at an outpost near Toktong Pass, the enemy surged like a tidal wave. Schowalter was a first lieutenant leading Company F, 31st Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division. The hill was vital—a crown jewel in the jigsaw of rugged terrain. The Chinese People’s Volunteer Army threw countless soldiers at their position, trying to rip them off the ridge.

The fighting turned brutal fast. Grenades rained. Machine guns peppered the perimeter. Schowalter took a bullet in his leg early. Then another. Severely wounded and in pain that would have broken most, he refused medical aid and stayed on his feet.

When enemy troops overran a forward trench, it was Schowalter who leapt into the breach. Without hesitation, he charged, rifle slung and hand grenades flying. Twice, he engaged in close-quarters combat, trading blows amid the screams and thunder of battle. He shouted orders through the smoke, rallying his men who were down to scraps of ammunition and fragile morale.

“Lieutenant Schowalter’s leadership was the glue that held us together when everything wanted to fall apart,” one infantryman recalled years later.[1]

He didn’t just hold the line. Against odds stacked like a mountain, he stormed enemy bunkers, silenced machine guns, and drove the attackers back up the slope — turning defense into counteroffense despite worsening wounds.

Recognition Etched in Valor

The Medal of Honor came not just for fighting but for embody the warrior’s soul — hardship met with relentless courage and sacrifice. The official citation spells it out in stark terms:

“First Lieutenant Schowalter distinguished himself by conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty... although painfully wounded, he repeatedly exposed himself to enemy fire, attacked and destroyed hostile machine gun nests, and led counterattacks to regain lost ground.”[2]

When asked about the medal, Schowalter deflected the praise like a soldier does bullets — "I did what any of the men would have done. That hill wasn’t just mine; it was ours."

Generals and fellow soldiers echoed this humility. Maj. Gen. Ned Almond described Schowalter’s actions as “a beacon of fearless leadership.” His men remembered him as a warrior who never quit, never gave in.

The Quiet Legacy Left on Blood-Soaked Ground

Schowalter’s story is not just a war story. It’s an echo of every soldier who fights beneath the crushing weight of duty and doubt — the scars buried deep, the faith that still clings when hope seems lost.

His courage wasn’t about glory but the meaning found in sacrifice. Romans 5:3-4 tells us, “We glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope.” Schowalter lived that scripture on rugged ground, turning wounds into strength.

To veterans, he remains a symbol — not just for medals or battlefield feats but for the stubborn humanity that war tries to crush. To civilians, a reminder that valor is often quiet, painful, and unsung.

He never sought name or fame. He carried his scars in silence, a soldier’s burden. But his story shouts a truth from the dust: Leadership forged in fire saves lives. Faith carried in the storm steadies the soul. Sacrifice echoes through time.

When a young warrior falters, remember Edward R. Schowalter Jr.—whose boots never left the ground, whose heart never surrendered.

Sources

[1] U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients: Korean War, [2] Official Medal of Honor citation, Edward R. Schowalter Jr., U.S. Army Records