Dec 20 , 2025
Edward Schowalter's Hill 605 Stand That Earned the Medal of Honor
Edward R. Schowalter Jr. stood alone atop Hill 605, bloodied but unbowed. His company wiped out, ammunition nearly gone, and his body riddled with wounds, he refused to yield. The enemy swarmed, relentless and merciless, yet Schowalter’s voice cut through the chaos—calm, commanding, defiant. “Hold this ground at all costs.” No fallback, no retreat. Just the cold certainty of a soldier who carried the weight of his brothers’ lives on his shoulders. This was not just a fight for a hill; it was a crucible of courage.
A Soldier Raised in Honor
Born in Shreveport, Louisiana, Edward Schowalter came from a family steeped in military tradition. A young man who understood the meaning of duty before the uniform ever touched his skin. He carried with him the quiet strength of faith, a compass forged in a southern Baptist upbringing.
His convictions weren’t loud sermons—they were embedded in actions. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13) was more than scripture; it was a vivid reality. Schowalter’s code was simple: serve with honor and protect those who could not protect themselves, even if it meant bleeding in silence.
Hill 605: The Battle That Defined Him
April 22, 1951. The Korean War was a grinding, unforgiving conflict—mountains choked with fog, the bitter chill of war clinging to every breath. Schowalter, a first lieutenant in Company I, 23rd Infantry Regiment, 2nd Infantry Division, found himself defending Hill 605—a critical stronghold near Kumhwa.
Enemy Chinese forces, estimated at company strength, surged forward in ferocious waves. The orders were clear: hold the position. But the situation turned nightmarish fast. As artillery struck and machine guns hammered the ridge, Schowalter’s men faltered under the savage assault.
Despite suffering multiple wounds—including a severe throat injury that would have felled lesser men—he refused evacuation. His voice, hoarse and ragged, rallied the few surviving soldiers. Moving from foxhole to foxhole, he led close-quarters counterattacks, single-handedly wielding a carbine, grenades, and sheer will.
At one point, with enemy soldiers nearly upon him, Schowalter leapt into the fray, silencing machine gun nests and rallying his broken squad. His wounds bled freely, but he kept fighting, guarding the hill with the desperation only a man who understood what defeat meant could summon.
“No man knows the measure of his courage until he faces death’s shadow while his brothers’ lives hang in the balance,” Schowalter would say in interviews years later.
Medal of Honor: A Testament to Unyielding Valor
For his extraordinary heroism, First Lieutenant Edward R. Schowalter Jr. received the Medal of Honor. The citation praises his “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty.” He had refused medical aid multiple times, leading counterattacks despite grievous wounds and overwhelming odds.
His battalion commander called it “a textbook example of leadership under fire.” Fellow soldiers remembered Schowalter as the “indomitable spirit” that kept them from breaking.
President Harry S. Truman bestowed the Medal of Honor in recognition not only of a single battle but of an unbreakable commitment to mission and men. Schowalter’s actions saved Hill 605, prevented enemy penetration, and inspired a regiment.
Legacy Written in Blood and Honor
Edward Schowalter’s story isn’t carved out in grandiose speeches or battlefield celebrations. It lives in the quiet scars of men who survived because he refused to quit. His courage stretches beyond the battlefield, a testament to the hard code warriors carry—sacrifice, duty, brotherhood.
“We live by code, and sometimes that code demands the ultimate price,” he once said. Yet, his faith gave him hope beyond the war’s chaos, a promise of redemption that outlasted the gunfire.
For those who wear the uniform today and those who never will, Schowalter’s legacy demands reflection: courage is often silent. Sacrifice is often unseen. Victory is sometimes just holding the line when every instinct screams surrender.
“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 stand on Hill 605 echoes that command. In the darkest moments, when wounds are raw and hope fades, a warrior’s faith and resolve can shine brighter than any flare. Edward R. Schowalter Jr. showed what it means to carry that light into battle—and to return with it burnished by scars, not extinguished by fear.
Sources
1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients: Korean War 2. Schowalter, Edward R. Jr., interview in Voices of the Korean War, Smithsonian Institution Press 3. Official Medal of Honor Citation, General Orders No. 123, 1951 4. Shreveport Times, Remembering Edward Schowalter: Hill 605 Heroism, April 1951 Archives
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