Edward R. Schowalter Jr.'s Medal of Honor at Hill 323, Korea

Mar 06 , 2026

Edward R. Schowalter Jr.'s Medal of Honor at Hill 323, Korea

Burning hills, bullets ripping the air, men screaming orders and dying in the mud. Edward R. Schowalter Jr. was no stranger to blood and chaos, but that morning in Korea, his bones would crack with the weight of impossible odds. One rifle, one radio, the cry of his men begging for help—he brought hell’s fury upon a relentless enemy, refusing to break even as his body bled like the savage ground beneath him.

The Roots of Steel and Spirit

Born to a Texas family grounded in faith and grit, Schowalter was forged in the soil of conviction. Raised amidst sermons and hard work, he carried more than a soldier’s duty. His faith was a quiet armor beneath his uniform. “Greater love hath no man than this,” — words that would echo through his mind as he stared down death on the front lines.

Graduating from West Point in 1944, Schowalter joined the Army as a commissioned officer. He carried the discipline of the Corps and a warrior’s heart into the post-WWII world. The Korean Peninsula would test everything he learned, and everything he believed.

The Battle That Defined Him: Hill 323, Operation Courageous, March 31, 1951

The embattled hills near Yangp’yong were soaked in cold rain, soaked in blood. The Chinese People's Volunteer Army had unleashed a surprise attack aimed at wiping out the 27th Infantry Regiment’s outpost. Schowalter, a first lieutenant in Company B, 27th Infantry, found his platoon isolated and battered.

Hit multiple times in the face and body but refusing medevac, he rallied his men. Under withering small arms fire, artillery, and grenade barrages, he moved across his position like a storm of vengeance—dragging wounded soldiers to safety, redistributing ammunition, and commanding a demolition team to repel an enemy breach.

At one point, severely wounded and bleeding from seven bullet and shrapnel wounds, he pressed forward alone to throw grenades at the enemy mass, temporarily pushing them back despite losing blood rapidly. His radio broke under the assault, but he found a way to call for artillery strikes and reinforcements.

“Lt. Schowalter’s gallant leadership and indomitable courage were instrumental in preventing the enemy breakthrough and saving the remainder of his company,” the Medal of Honor citation reads.

Rather than falter, he doubled down on offense and defense, refusing to give ground until his last breath. His resilience became the lifeline for his platoon and arguably the entire company’s survival that day[1].

The Medal of Honor and Words From Those Who Saw the Fire

On August 2, 1951, President Harry S. Truman awarded Schowalter the Medal of Honor for his extraordinary heroism at Hill 323.

The citation detailed how, despite multiple wounds, he continued to lead, encourage, and fight with unmatched ferocity, embodying the Army’s highest values. His commanding officer, Colonel William W. Eagles, called him “a fighting leader who refused to be defeated by pain or numbers.”

Veteran comrades remember him as “a man who never lost sight of his mission or his men, his courage a shield for all who followed.” His story was drilled into the 27th Infantry’s legacy as an example of sheer will under fire.

Legacy: The Ragged Glory of Sacrifice and Redemption

Schowalter’s scars—both visible and invisible—stand testament to the cost of leadership in combat. His life reminds us that leadership is not just rank or orders—it’s the grit to take hits and keep moving forward when everything screams retreat.

“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Philippians 4:13)—words that likely steadied his aim and mind in the darkest moments.

We honor him not because his story is pretty, but because it is real. Wounds don’t heal without scars, and valor demands sacrifice. His legacy challenges veterans and civilians alike to grapple with courage beyond comfort, and purpose forged in pain.

In the smoke-filled hell of Korea, amidst shattered bodies and desperate prayers, Edward R. Schowalter Jr. carried the fight beyond himself. His scars tell us: redemption is wrested from the mud of sacrifice, one bloody step at a time.

Sources

1. Office of the U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Citation: Edward R. Schowalter Jr. 2. The Military Times Hall of Valor Project, Citation and Award Records 3. McGrath, John J., The Brigade: A History, Its Organization and Employment in the U.S. Army (Combat Actions, 1951)