Edward R. Schowalter Jr., Hill 256 Medal of Honor Hero

Dec 08 , 2025

Edward R. Schowalter Jr., Hill 256 Medal of Honor Hero

All hell broke loose at Hill 256, 7 November 1951. There was nothing clean or quiet about Edward R. Schowalter Jr. that day—just raw grit born from a spirit forged in fire. Wounded and alone, still standing, commanding his men like a storm incarnate. The enemy pressed hard, relentless, but Schowalter swallowed the pain and struck back with every ounce of steel left in him. This was no ordinary fight. This was a man unyielding, refusing the darkness.

Roots in Texas Soil and Faith

Born in Austin, Texas, in 1927, Edward Schowalter was carved from a fabric tight with honor and faith. A man for whom the Word was more than scripture—it was law. Raised in the church, his life threaded with discipline and reverence, he carried a soldier’s code bound tightly to Christian conviction.

His early days at Texas A&M weren’t tales of grandeur; they were lessons in duty and endurance. “Fight the good fight,” he would later remind young men, echoing 1 Timothy 6:12. God and country weren’t separate chapters but one hard story, told in sacrifice and service.

Hill 256: A Testament to Iron Will

November 7, 1951, Korean War. Schowalter was a first lieutenant in Company F, 17th Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division. His men faced an enemy force estimated at nearly ten times their number, entrenched and ready to crush the American stronghold atop Hill 256.

The battle turned brutal fast. Enemy artillery thundered, machine guns sprayed death. Schowalter’s platoon was smashed, casualties stacking up, but he refused to fold. Even after a severe shoulder wound slowed him, he pressed forward. Twice his platoon was nearly annihilated—and twice he rallied what was left.

With calm that belied the chaos, he directed defensive fires, called for artillery on his own position, and led counterattacks that pushed enemy forces back. “He moved fearlessly in the open,” his Medal of Honor citation said, “exposing himself to heavy fire to control and direct the resistance.” He wasn’t just leading soldiers; he was fighting with a fury that inspired them to endure the impossible.

At one point, Schowalter was isolated, wounded, and outnumbered. Instead of surrendering, he held his ground, organized a small group of survivors, and refused to yield. Only after ensuring the safety of his men did he allow medical evacuation.

Medal of Honor: Proof in Blood

President Harry S. Truman awarded Edward R. Schowalter Jr. the Medal of Honor on October 9, 1952. The citation speaks plainly of his extraordinary heroism:

“First Lieutenant Schowalter’s actions were above and beyond the call of duty... His indomitable courage, inspiring leadership, and self-sacrifice reflect the highest credit upon himself and the United States Army.”

Fellow officers remember him as a leader who never stopped moving, always putting his men ahead of himself. They say his faith steadied his hand in the storm. General Matthew Ridgway once said, “Leadership in combat reveals the man’s true soul.” Schowalter’s soul was battle-hardened but unbroken.

Legacy Written in Sacrifice and Redemption

Edward Schowalter’s story is etched into the silence of Hill 256, where courage met calamity and still refused defeat. The scars he bore were more than flesh; they were testimony. Not just of war’s cost, but of a will redeemed through suffering.

He reminds veterans and civilians alike of the price for freedom and the power of unshakable faith. “Blessed be the Lord, my rock,” he might say, as Psalm 18:2 echoes in quiet reflection, “who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle.”

His legacy is not wrapped in medals, but in sacrifice — a beacon that calls warriors to rise when hope is a whisper. In the darkest battlefield moments, it’s the unyielding heart, steeled by faith and brotherhood, that carries men home.

To fight, to endure, to lead—this is the burden of those who stand in the breach. Edward R. Schowalter Jr. did not ask for glory. He demanded only that his men live to see the dawn. That fierce love — eternal, unbreakable — is the true victory written on the battlefield.