December 7th

A few years ago I had the good fortune to meet and interview an amazing man by the name of Edward “Buddy” Buchner. On December 7, 1941, Buddy was a member of the United States Army Air Corps stationed in the Phillipine Islands. After the Sunday morning attack on Pearl Harbor by Japanese forces, Buddy and millions of young Americans suddenly found themselves at war and in harms way. A short time later, Buddy was captured and became a participant in the infamous Bataan Death March, during which many thousands of men died at the hands of their brutal captors. 

For Buddy, this was not the worst part of his four year imprisonment. Other horrors and atrocities lay ahead. Somehow he survived a voyage on one of the “Hell Ships” that took Allied prisoners to Japan to work in the factories and mines as slave labor. Daily trips in open air rail cars to the factory where he slaved, wearing only a flimsy pair of pajamas… in the depth of winter. Beatings. Starvation. Torment. Even after his liberation following the Japanese surrender in 1945, Buddy and other former POWs were taken through the atomic bomb’s destruction zone on their way to ships that would take them home. For many this exposure to high level radiation led to serious health problems later in life.

Buddy survived all of this and when he returned home he started his family. He and his wife raised three boys, each of whom are remarkable men in their own way. A clear reflection of their father and mother. Buddy lived his life with the same silent resolve and code of honor that helped him endure four years of hell on earth.  He was “Uncle Buddy” to his community because he cared. He was Dad to his boys because he loved. He was caregiver to his wife who suffered with ravages of Alzheimer’s Disease, even as he himself was dying of cancer, because he knew mercy. I don’t know if Buddy was a religious man, but in the relatively few hours that I had the privilege to spend with Buddy, I saw a Godly man. 

I often think of Buddy and what he endured during those four years as a prisoner of war. When I am dissatisfied with something in my life I sometimes think of Buddy imprisoned on a hell ship. If I am unable to finish my meal I think about how Buddy and his fellow prisoners would have rejoiced over the feast represented by these uneaten scraps on my plate. When I’m grumbling over some inconvenience I try to remember Buddy shivering night after night on a hard, bug infested mat that was his bed. 

Each December 7, many in the U.S. remember those who fought and died at Pearl Harbor. Tonight on California’s Mount Diablo, a beacon will be lit to remember the fallen, as it has for decades. Tonight, when I see the beacon, I will remember my friend, Buddy Buchner. I will remember how God is alongside us as we endure great trials and the most horrifying acts that one man can bestow upon another. I will remember those who were imprisoned and who are imprisoned this day and ask that God touch them. Most of all, I will remember the lessons I have learned from Buddy Buchner, a man who I believe knew God and understood His love and mercy.

 

Buddy Buchner