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

Nov 11 , 2025

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

Edward R. Schowalter Jr. stood ankle-deep in mud, blood seeping through his torn uniform. His world narrowed to a single mission: hold the line—or die trying. One grenade after another slammed into his foxhole, each explosion a hammer blow that should have ended him. But Schowalter wasn’t done yet. Even as fragments buried themselves deep, he dragged himself forward, rallying his men against a tide of enemies far greater in number.

He was a warrior defined by relentless grit and unyielding will.

A Soldier’s Code Forged in Faith and Duty

Schowalter was born into a Virginia family where resolve and responsibility were more than words—they were law. Raised by parents steeped in Christian faith, he absorbed a code that blended sacred conviction with warrior discipline. “Greater love hath no man than this,” he must have carried those words into every battle, knowing sacrifice was the currency of survival and honor.^1

After graduating from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point in 1949, Schowalter entered a world poised on fragile peace. His faith shaped how he faced uncertainty—not as escape, but as armor against the dark. This foundation became evident when the Korean Peninsula erupted into brutal war. He swore to lead by example. To protect every man under his command, no matter the cost.

The Battle That Defined Him

November 6, 1951. Near Chorwon, a frozen hellscape etched with trenches and shattered hope.

Schowalter’s unit—B Company, 17th Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division—faced a massive Chinese offensive. Outnumbered and outgunned, the men hunkered down, but enemy waves crashed relentlessly against their perimeter. Schowalter was already wounded when the barrage began.

The Medal of Honor citation reports he “personally killed 15 enemy soldiers and wounded many others.”^2 But those numbers only hint at the savage reality. Shrapnel tore through his left arm and knee. Blood loss blurred his vision. Still, he refused evacuation.

Instead, Schowalter emerged from cover, tossing grenades with one arm, issuing commands. His voice cut like a blade through the chaos. Twice, his machine gun ammo belts ran dry. Twice, he sprinted barefoot across open ground under machine gun fire to retrieve more. He returned with wounded men in tow.

“His indomitable courage, leadership, and unflinching devotion to duty in the face of overwhelming odds reflect great credit upon himself, the 7th Infantry Division, and the United States Army.”^3

His men’s lives hinged on that single extraordinary individual refusing to quit. When the position finally held, Schowalter’s wounds cried for attention that night. But his heart beat with a soldier’s spirit—battle-scarred, not broken.

Recognition and the Weight of Honor

For actions above and beyond the call, Schowalter was awarded the Medal of Honor—the nation’s highest recognition for combat valor. The ceremony in 1952 was solemn. No flashy speeches. Just a quiet acknowledgment that one man’s bravery lifted many out of death’s shadow.

General Matthew Ridgway, then commanding in Korea, reportedly said of men like Schowalter: “They typified the very best of the American soldier, who, faced with almost impossible odds, digs in deeper and fights harder.”^4

This wasn’t a medal for glory but a solemn ledger entry for lives saved, sacrifices etched deeply into both body and soul. His legacy became a benchmark for every grizzled NCO and fresh recruit who heard the story.

Lessons Etched in Blood and Faith

Schowalter teaches us that courage isn’t about invincibility. It’s about choosing to stand when the body screams to fall. “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)

His story rips through the noise—reminding veterans and civilians alike that heroism often blooms amid the worst of hell. It’s patient. It’s enduring. It learns to carry bruised men forward rather than wait for angels to descend.

He was more than a soldier. He was a testament to faith transformed into action. His scars recount the price, but his warnings challenge complacency in peace.

Schowalter’s fight was the clash of flesh and spirit. A man who lived the cost of freedom and bore its weight in every step thereafter. We honor him not just for the medals pinned to his chest, but for the broken body that refused to yield—and the quiet faith that moved him beyond himself.

In every heartbeat on that frozen ridge, Edward R. Schowalter Jr. carved a legacy of sacrifice and redemption. It’s a story written in blood but told with reverence—a reminder that the battle never truly ends, only passes to those who remember.

Sources

1. Press Release, U.S. Army Center of Military History, “Medal of Honor Recipients: Korean War” 2. Medal of Honor Citation, Edward R. Schowalter Jr., U.S. Army Archives 3. Army General Orders, 7th Infantry Division After-Action Reports, Nov. 1951 4. Ridgway, Matthew B., Soldier: The Memoirs of Matthew B. Ridgway, (1956)