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

Jan 19 , 2026

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

Blood runs thick where heroes stand no taller than their scars.

In the frozen hell of Korea, Edward R. Schowalter Jr. wasn’t just a man bleeding from bullet wounds. He was a lighthouse burning fierce against a storm that threatened to swallow his unit whole.

Blood and Will: The Making of a Warrior

Edward R. Schowalter Jr. was no stranger to hard lines and harsher codes. Born in Oklahoma, the grit of the heartland paved his bones long before the Army did. Raised with reverence for duty and faith, _he carried a soldier’s prayer etched deep_, surviving on more than muscle. “The Lord is my rock and my fortress” whispered behind clenched teeth, anchoring him when the roar drowned reason.

His faith wasn’t sentimental. It was steel forged in the crucible of discipline and sacrifice. A man who understood that honor ain’t a choice when the bullets start flying—it’s the only way out alive.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” — Joshua 1:9

A Frozen Hell Named Triangle Hill

October 1952. The Korean War had been grinding into its vicious stalemate, but the battle at Triangle Hill demanded more than just firepower. Schowalter’s unit, 31st Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division, was tasked with securing a linchpin in the Chinese defensive network nestled in the brutal mountains.

The enemy poured down waves relentless and fierce. Grenades snatched at every step. Mortars shook the ground into dust and despair.

Amid this chaos, Schowalter’s leadership burned bright. As a first lieutenant, he wasn’t given the luxury to command from behind—his platoon was on the ragged front lines, bleeding for every inch. When a hand grenade landed among his men, Schowalter did not recoil. He grabbed it. Squeezed. Threw it back with brutal reflex before it could detonate among the wounded.

Severe wounds tore through his thigh, yet he refused evacuation. The ground was not a place to falter. His platoon was unraveling, outnumbered maybe five to one. Still, he took it upon himself to rally broken soldiers under heavy fire.

Pinned down but unbowed, Lieutenant Schowalter exposed himself time and again, calling in mortar fire directly on his own position to flush enemy attackers away. Bullets shredded flesh, but the will to protect—a blend of faith and fury—held a line no enemy could break that day.

His actions stalled the Chinese advance. His wounds stacked up like tall tales of survival. But the line held. The mountain did not fall.

Valor Etched in Medal of Honor

The Medal of Honor. The highest, purest symbol of sacrifice and courage given by this country. Edward R. Schowalter Jr. earned it without hesitation, his citation a testament to a man who stared death in the eye and spat defiance.

“First Lieutenant Edward R. Schowalter, Jr., distinguished himself by conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty… His aggressive leadership and indomitable fighting spirit were largely responsible for the successful defense of his position.”

His commander called him a "force of nature." Comrades spoke of a presence that turned fear into fury. Schowalter didn’t want glory. He wanted to live and make sure his brothers lived, too.

The man who survived Triangle Hill carried scars—as much inside as out. But each scar told a story: of sacrifice, of faith under fire, of leadership when all seemed lost.

Legacy in Blood and Iron

Edward R. Schowalter Jr.’s story is not just a chapter in history books. It’s a manual written in sweat, blood, and broken bones about what it takes to stand when no one else can. His legacy is raw: Leadership is sacrificial, courage is contagious, faith is a warrior’s weapon.

_There are no prizes for perfection._ The real medal is the one invisible—the grit that grips your soul and refuses to let go. Schowalter’s fight reminds veterans and civilians alike that redemption often comes wrapped in hardship. The battlefield isn’t just a place of death—it’s the furnace where purpose is forged.

He walked out of hell not unscathed, but unbroken.

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life… nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” — Romans 8:38-39

Veterans carry these truths every day. Schowalter carried them amid hellfire.

His story demands more than memory. It demands respect, quiet reverence, and a promise to never forget what sacrifice truly costs.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History + Medal of Honor Recipients: Korean War 2. Congressional Medal of Honor Society + “Edward R. Schowalter Jr.” citation and records 3. James R. McDonough + Korean War: The Battle of Triangle Hill, Military History Quarterly 4. Official Army Reports on 7th Infantry Division Action, October 1952