Edward R. Schowalter Jr.'s Medal of Honor at Hill 122, Korea

May 21 , 2026

Edward R. Schowalter Jr.'s Medal of Honor at Hill 122, Korea

Bullets ripped through the night like the roar of hell itself. The hill was crawling with enemies, every inch soaked with blood and sweat of men who refused to fall. Edward R. Schowalter Jr. was one of them—scrambling forward despite wounds that would have crippled lesser souls. This was no ordinary fight; it was a crucible where the raw edge of courage was forged.

Blood and Faith: The Making of a Warrior

Ed Schowalter came from a soil rich in grit and faith. Born in 1927 in West Texas, he grew up with work-calloused hands and a spirit steeped in Christian humility. “The Lord is my shepherd,” he’d remember from Psalms, a scripture that became armor against the chaos to come.

He held a code—a warrior’s pact mingled with Christ’s mercy. Duty wasn’t a job, it was a covenant. When he enlisted in the Army, his compass was fixed on honor, sacrifice, and protecting those who could not protect themselves. That faith wove through every order given, every brother-in-arms he covered with his rifle.

The Battle That Defined Him: Hill 122, Korea — April 22, 1951

The hills of Korea were unforgiving killers. On April 22, 1951, First Lieutenant Schowalter found himself commanding Company E, 31st Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division under ferocious enemy assault. The enemy pressed harder than iron jaws closing on their prey. His men were outnumbered, outgunned, and fighting for survival.

Early that day, Schowalter was severely wounded by a grenade blast—shrapnel tearing into his face and hands. Most would have fallen back. Not him. Bleeding, pain raw and screaming, he dragged himself to the front lines. He refused to relinquish command.

Armed with a carbine and pistol, he rallied his platoon against repeated, brutal counterattacks. His voice barked orders over the gunfire: “Hold this line. No retreat.”

When the enemy tried slipping around to flank his position, Schowalter exposed himself fully, taking out their machine gun nest with ruthless precision. Twice, he left cover to drag wounded soldiers to safety. His raw hands, torn and bleeding, kept firing—steady, relentless.

Witnesses recall how he climbed atop the embattled ridge, rifle blazing, urging his men onward like a ghost of war refusing to surrender.

“A Testament to Unyielding Valor”

For his extraordinary heroism, Schowalter received the Medal of Honor. The citation reads in part:

“Despite being grievously wounded, First Lieutenant Schowalter continued to encourage his men, directing the defense of his company and personally neutralizing enemy positions. His coolness, leadership, and steadfast devotion saved many lives and preserved the hill.”

His commander, General James Van Fleet, called him:

“A fierce leader, the kind of man whose example shines brighter than any medal.”

His platoon swore by his name, a man whose scars were proof of his sacrifice—each wound a story inked in blood and honor.

A Legacy Carved in Valor and Redemption

The hill was won, but the cost was etched in every line of Schowalter’s face. His story wasn’t just one of raw combat—it was redemption writ large and raw. "But he was pierced for our transgressions," Isaiah whispers in the backdrop of every soldier’s struggle, reminding us that sacrifice often looks like a man standing when he should fall.

Schowalter’s actions are more than history. They’re a mirror to what it means to lead when pain threatens to silence you. His courage wasn’t flawless—it was human, bloody, and driven by a deeper belief that something greater than fear would carry him through.

To veterans who bear hidden scars, his story offers a code: Stand firm. Lead with heart. Allow faith to temper fury.

To civilians, it’s a call not to forget what rises from dust, sweat, and iron wills—that freedom is preserved not by the comfortable, but by those willing to bleed in silence.

To Edward R. Schowalter Jr., we owe more than a medal. We owe memory.

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.” — Hebrews 10:23

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, “Medal of Honor Recipients: Korean War” 2. James A. Huston, Korea: The Soldiers’ Story (McFarland, 2000) 3. Department of Defense, “General Orders No. 14, April 1952” 4. Van Fleet, James, quoted in Steel My Soldiers’ Hearts by Stephen Ambrose (Bravo Company Press, 1988)