And Then They Prayed. Barry Loudermilk
had been blown down during a storm. Within about an hour after beginning their fervent prayers, the sound of thunder was heard in the distance. As the men continued their appeal to heaven, the wind began to howl through the nearby pine trees, as a tremendous thunderstorm moved in over the camp.
The sky rapidly darkened as the storm clouds began pouring down rain in torrents. Prisoners, unmindful of the wind and driving rain, began setting out pots, cups, dishes, hats, anything to catch the rainwater. This rain, as with many previous storms, would provide some temporary relief; but as soon as the storm passed, the sun would quickly evaporate most of the precious rainwater.
The rain continued to come down so heavily that part of the camp around Stockade Creek began to flood. The flood waters soon turned the stagnant swamp into a swirling current, washing the disease infested water downstream and out of the stockade.
The unexpected rainstorm was indeed cleaning the camp, but William Tannahill and his prayer group were praying for a source of fresh water, so they continued to pray. Suddenly, a tremendous clap of thunder erupted and a bright bolt of lightning burst from the sky and struck the ground just inside the stockade wall. It was then that hundreds of prisoners witnessed a miraculous sight. At the very spot where the lightning struck, a spring of clear water began bubbling up from the ground. John L. Maile of the 8th Michigan Infantry, described it as “a spring of purest crystal water shot up into the air in a column and falling in a fan like spray went babbling down the grade…Looking across the deadline we beheld with wondering eyes and grateful hearts the fountain spring.”
Although the spot where the lightning struck and the spring erupted was inside the deadline, Confederate guards allowed prisoners to construct a wooden trough to carry the water into the prison grounds. The spring, which they appropriately named Providence Spring, provided enough fresh water to supply the needs of the entire camp. It can only be imagined the number of lives that were saved by the astonishing emergence of the pure water spring; yet, not only lives, but many men’s souls were also saved as they witnessed the miracle of Providence Spring. The incident so affected one young prisoner from Decatur County, Tennessee, that he dedicated his life to preaching, and continued his ministry for fifty years.
With money raised by former prisoners, a marker was purchased in 1901 and placed at the site where Providence Spring had suddenly appeared. Though Andersonville is now void of stockade walls, deadlines, stagnant marshes, death-houses, shebangs and other reminders of the miseries encountered there, about halfway across the grassy field stands a lone stone monument marking the only remaining original artifact of the camp; the monument marks Providence Spring, the answer to men’s prayers, which still flows today.
References
Davis, Robert Scott. Andersonville Civil War Prison. Charleston, SC: History, 2010. Print.
Goss, Warren Lee. The Soldier’s Story of His Captivity at Andersonville, Belle Island, and Other Rebel Prisons. Scituate, MA: Digital Scanning, 2001. Print.
Maile, John L. Prison Life in Andersonville with Special Reference to the Opening of Providence Spring. Los Angeles: Grafton Pub., 1912. Print.
McElroy, John. Andersonville: a Story of Rebel Military Prisons … Toledo: Locke, 1870. Print.
Stearns, Amos E. Narrative of Amos E. Stearns … a Prisoner at Andersonville;. Worcester, MA: Franklin P. Rice, 1888. Print.
Texas State Genealogical Society. Stirpes, Volume 34, Number 1, March 1994, Frances Condra Pryor, editor, Journal/Magazine/Newsletter, March 1994; digital images,
Styple, William B. Andersonville: Giving up the Ghost. Kearny, NJ: Belle Grove Pub., 1996. Print.
Tailwinds Of Providence
Lieutenant Colonel ”Jimmy” Doolittle (1942)
“But those who wait on the Lord Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint.”
Isaiah 40:31 (NKJV)
Studying maps of the Japanese mainland had suddenly replaced the nightly poker games as the primary off duty activity below the decks of the aircraft carrier, USS Hornet, at least for the forty-eight Army Air Corps pilots and navigators, who were the guests of the United States Navy on this highly secretive mission. The additional thirty-two Army Air Corps enlisted men who served as bombardiers, gunners and mechanics, were scouring over every detail of their Mitchell B-25 bombers strapped to the deck of the ship. Sergeant Joseph W. Manske, the mechanic and gunner of aircraft number five, meticulously checked every component of both engines to ensure his aircraft was mission ready.
It was April 17, 1942, and for two and a half months the men of the sixteen aircrews had been rigorously training for a mission so secretive that, until a few days earlier, they had not even been told their objective.
Mission Ready
Since the beginning of February, when each man had volunteered for what they were told was an extremely dangerous, but highly valuable, mission they had been experimenting and training to do things with the B-25 that it was not designed to do.
While the pilots and co-pilots were learning how to get the planes airborne in about a third the amount of runway the aircraft normally used, the mechanics were directed to make unusual modifications to the airframe and engines. Radios, and even some of the armament, were removed. Any component deemed not absolutely necessary for the plane to take off, fly and drop a few bombs, was removed to decrease weight. Carburetors, which were designed for optimal speed and performance, were recalibrated for greater fuel efficiency.
Special rubber fuel tanks were delivered, which would be placed in the crawlspace that connected the cockpit to the rear gunner’s compartment, where gunners and mechanics, such as Joe Manske, sat. This would not only cut off access between the gunner and the rest of the crew, but it would render the bottom gun turret unusable, so those were also removed to lessen the weight and hopefully extend the plane’s fuel range.
Each of the sixteen aircrews consisted of five men who had volunteered for this mission. Because the mission was extremely dangerous, and possibly even suicidal, the men had been given multiple opportunities to back out honorably. But none stepped aside, and they all confidently stood with their Mission Commander, Lieutenant Colonel James Doolittle.
While none of the sixteen aircrews knew exactly what they were training for, they could easily determine that it was going to be a long trip. They also correctly derived they would likely start the mission from the deck of an aircraft carrier, and that fuel range was a significant concern. But orders were precise and clear; they were not to discuss their training with anyone, including family and friends, no matter how much they were trusted. The crews were even prohibited from speculating amongst themselves where they may be going and what their target was to be. However, since the United States was now officially involved in the war in Europe and Japan, they knew they could be going just about anywhere.
A Bold Plan
Five months earlier, the United States had suffered the worst defeat on U.S. soil since the war of 1812. On the morning of December 7, 1941 the Japanese Navy had launched a surprise and devastating air attack on the U.S. Pacific Fleet based at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, that had crippled America’s military might in the Pacific. The attack resulted in the sinking or serious damage of eighteen ships, and the loss of almost three hundred fifty American aircraft. But the most devastating loss to the United States, was the 2,403 Americans killed and 1,178 wounded.
With the U.S. Pacific Fleet virtually out of commission, our military forces throughout the Pacific were now lacking their primary means of resupply. Our Pacific military bases, now vulnerable without the protection of naval air support, were little more than a hindrance to the Japanese, as they easily swept across