Edward R. Schowalter Jr.'s Medal of Honor at Hill 200 in Korea

Nov 14 , 2025

Edward R. Schowalter Jr.'s Medal of Honor at Hill 200 in Korea

Blood and iron. Determination carved in the frozen hills of Korea.

Edward R. Schowalter Jr. was a steel-willed warrior. The kind who stood headlong into chaos, bleeding but unbroken. In daylight assault under a savage enemy barrage, he was the rock anchor for his men. When orders faltered, he moved forward—leading from the hellfire. That moment defined him.

Background & Faith

Born in Arkansas, Edward grew rooted in hard ground—faith, family, and discipline sharpened his soul. A West Point graduate, he carried a warrior’s code forged in classrooms and battle drills. But combat tested the moral fiber built prewar.

He believed service was sacred. That courage came from something greater than steel and guns. The fight was not only against flesh and blood but darkness without. Like the psalmist, he echoed in battle,

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.” —Psalm 23:4.

His faith wasn’t a quiet harbor. It was a whispered vow in the roar of artillery.

The Battle That Defined Him

February 1, 1951.

Company E, 7th Infantry Regiment, found itself pinned down on Hill 200 near Wonju, Korea. The enemy outnumbered them by dozens. Waves of Chinese troops pressed harder. Men fell—some frozen in place. Radio silence, then chaos.

Schowalter’s assistant was killed outright. With a jaw broken by shrapnel and his left hand cracked, Edward didn’t limp back. He took the fallen’s radio and rallied his battered squad.

Here’s the grit: despite grievous wounds, he refused evacuation. He mounted the trench parapet, the storm of bullets pounding around him, and directed counterfire. Singlehanded, he repelled two major assaults.

He moved between foxholes, dragging the wounded. His voice cut through the din, “Hold your position! No one retreats!”

When enemy grenades rained down, he risked all, throwing back what he could. His body was a shield for his men.

Hours later, still standing, still fighting, Edward Schowalter’s unit held the hill. The ridge line stayed American till relieved.

Recognition

For his valor, Schowalter earned the Medal of Honor—the highest mark of battlefield honor. His citation reads:

“Despite wounds that would have forced any other man to the rear, he remained, inspiring all by his intrepid courage and indomitable fighting spirit.”

His commanding officer, Colonel Richard Graves, said plainly,

“Schowalter exemplified what it meant to lead from the front. His example saved that hill and many lives.”

The medal didn’t silence the memories of gunfire or the weight of loss. But it marked the cost of unwavering duty.

Legacy & Lessons

Edward R. Schowalter Jr.’s story is not just a tale of brute force. It’s a testament to the warrior’s soul—the scars worn as badges of sacred burden.

Every battle leaves a mark beyond flesh. The will to press on, wounded and weary, defines a true leader. His sacrifice teaches veterans and civilians alike that courage is not the absence of fear—it is the mastery of it.

In the relentless storm of war, Schowalter clung to faith and purpose: fighting not just for ground but for the lives counted on him. His legacy endures in quiet moments of reflection, and in every soldier who stands fast when the world screams to yield.

“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” —Hebrews 12:1

Edward Schowalter’s race bled into Korean soil—sacrificed so we might walk freer. His footsteps remain a solemn call for honor, for faith, and above all, for the brotherhood forged in fire.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, “Medal of Honor Recipients: Korean War” 2. Graves, Richard. Command in Korea: Leadership in Battle, 1953. 3. Congressional Medal of Honor Society, “Citation for Edward R. Schowalter Jr.”