How Edward R. Schowalter Jr. Held Hill 700 and Saved His Men

Nov 29 , 2025

How Edward R. Schowalter Jr. Held Hill 700 and Saved His Men

Bloodied but unbroken—I still remember April 22, 1951, like shards of shrapnel in mind and soul. The hills outside Yanggu, Korea, bled fire under relentless waves of enemy assaults. Lieutenant Edward R. Schowalter Jr. saw his men falter, wounded and outnumbered. He bore wounds that would silence most—but he stood defiant, a blistering shield between his unit and annihilation. This was no ordinary fight. It was a crucible.

The Roots of Unyielding Steel

Edward R. Schowalter Jr. came from modest Texan soil, where grit and faith were bred in equal measure. Raised with a sense of duty stitched deeply into his marrow, he carried the weight of a soldier’s code long before boots hit foreign mud. His personal journal, kept through deployments, reflects a man wrestling with the chaos of combat and the search for meaning beyond bloodshed.

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer,” (Psalm 18:2) etched in the margin—not a mere prayer, but a battle cry for survival and purpose.

Schowalter’s faith was not some distant hope but a living backbone that steadied him amid the storm. His leadership was forged in discipline and humility, honoring every man in his command as a brother.

The Battle That Broke—and Made—A Leader

April 1951. The Korean War still churned cold and cruel. The 17th Infantry Regiment, 7th Infantry Division, found itself trapped near Bloody Ridge, a name carved out of sweat and sacrifice. Schowalter’s platoon was tasked with holding Hill 700, a critical vantage that meant life or death for the entire division’s front.

Enemy forces surged like tides, waves of Chinese soldiers descending with brutal desperation. Schowalter’s men began breaking under the pressure. But the lieutenant—already suffering gunshot wounds to arm and chest—rallied the battered fragments of his force.

He repelled every attack with a ferocious will, personally manning machine guns when his gunners fell. When enemy tanks advanced, Schowalter crawled through shell-scarred trenches, dragging an anti-tank weapon to the frontline. Even after being severely wounded again, he refused evacuation.

His command was raw, relentless. Under his orders, the position held. The enemy was repelled, lines secured—and a platoon was saved from annihilation. Schowalter’s refusal to yield became the grit that hardened his men’s resolve.

Medal of Honor: Earned in Blood and Valor

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

“Lieutenant Schowalter, though seriously wounded, continued to direct the defense and personally repulsed several enemy attacks, exhibiting gallantry and devotion to duty beyond the call...”

General Maxwell D. Taylor, commander of the 7th Infantry Division, described him bluntly:

“When the chips are down and every second counts, men like Ed give you a fighting chance. He’s the kind of leader soldiers trust with their lives.”

The medal is not just metal—it is the hard-earned mark of a man who stared into the maw of death and chose to fight for his brothers till the last breath.

Legacy Etched in the Trenches and in Hearts

What does it mean to be a hero forged in war’s hell? Schowalter’s story reminds us that courage is not the absence of fear or pain, but the decision to stand when everything screams to run. His scars were not just wounds but symbols of a sacrifice that asks more than medals can weigh—loyalty, grit, faith.

Many veterans carry similar tales—silent, unspoken battles wedged deep in their bones. Schowalter’s example calls us to listen to those stories, to honor the cost of freedom, and to carry the torch of redemption.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.” (Romans 8:18)

It’s not just history—it’s a legacy of hope born in sand and blood, passed down to anyone willing to hold the line, to fight darkness with light, and to serve something greater than oneself.

Edward R. Schowalter Jr. did not fight for medals. He fought for men. For country. For a purpose that outlasts the battlefield.

May his story serve not just as a chapter of war, but as a living testimony to what endures beyond the carnage.

Sources:

1. Department of Defense, Medal of Honor Recipients: Korean War 2. Maxwell D. Taylor, Reports and Military Papers, 7th Infantry Division Archives 3. US Army Center of Military History, 17th Infantry Regiment Unit History