| Blackrobe in Blue: The Naval Chaplaincy of John P. Foley, S.J. 1942-1946 by Steve O'Brien Ph.D. |
| "...one of the more delightful 'reads' of recent years...In every fiber of Father Foley was the pride of being a 'Navy man'. But he was a Catholic priest first - and his assessment of men, attitudes and events will inform and inspire (especially his own battle with 'brass' over policies that were in opposition to the Church's moral teachings). Blackrobe in Blue is a delightful yet sobering account of a priest facing death everyday with a certain faith which sprang from a certain Church amidst a very uncertain world. It holds up a priestly mold which will stir other priests ( and laity as well) at a time when the priesthood is in great need of 'traditional ' models. Fr. James McLucas Editor of The Latin Mass Magazine "This book brings home to me how much good a priest can do as a military chaplain, especially if he is a good and holy priest, as Fr. Foley certainly was. He also had his human side, and that comes out clearly in the book. Any young priest who is considering going into the military as a chaplain will find much in this book which will help him in making his decision. " Fr. Kenneth Baker, S.J. Editor of Homiletic & Pastoral Review "O'Brien recounts the exploits of a first-class Jesuit from Boston. Something about Catholicism in Fr. Foley's hometown prepared him for his odyssey with GIs...Thanks to priests like Fr. Foley, tens of thousands of GIs who failed to come back from the greatest war died in the state of grace. They went before their Maker with the only identification needed for eternity." The Remnant March 31, 2005 |
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Blackrobe in Blue is the true-life
story of John P. Foley, S.J., a Jesuit
priest who left a comfortable position
as teacher and administrator at
Boston College to serve as a naval
chaplain during World War II.
Though the New England Provincial
was reluctant to let him go, Foley
wrangled permission to take up a
berth in the Navy for the duration.
His one motivation was, in his own
words, to be with the boys "when
they were fighting and dying...that
was it."
As events unfolded, Foley saw a
great deal of both, and fulfilled his
mission in succoring those who were
questioning their faith, those who had
no faith, those who were about to die.
He saw action in the North African
campaign aboard the attack transport
George Clymer before passing
through the Panama Canal and
assignment to the "Cactus Run" resupplying
Guadalcanal. His experiences made him a better priest and a better
man. Foley dealt with and admonished fanatical anti-Catholics and
self-serving officers looking to further their careers on the backs of the
enlisted men. But he also grew in his own faith and understanding of his
vocation. He encountered frightened young men, whom he always
referred to as "his boys" weep before an invasion and yet lay down their
lives after he assured them that the Lord had not abandoned them. He
felt great gratitude as Catholics and non-Catholics honored him for his
daily efforts, minor and major, on their behalf. And he saw, far removed
from his familiar Jesuit houses in Europe and America, the Church
Universal in action. He saw incredibly dedicated missionaries in some of
the most God-forsaken places on earth, spend their lives, body and soul,
in trying to raise the natives from paganism.
When the madness finally ended, Foley walked alone through the
blasted streets of Japan and ruminated on all he had seen and done
during his service in the greatest war the world had ever known and he
realized that his life and his priesthood would never be the same.
John Foley's story was very nearly lost. After the war he returned to
America to resume his duties as a member of the Society of Jesus in
New England. He soldiered on through the confident fifties and
weathered the storm of the Conciliar era. By the early 1990s he was still
conducting retreats but was resigned to the fate that beckons all men.
When he was diagnosed with a fatal illness he made his final
preparations for the inevitable. Despite his belief that he had done his
best, there was one piece of unfinished business that troubled him.
During the war Foley had kept a detailed diary chronicling his daily
experiences. Though diaries were forbidden by regulations, he felt that
the importance of the events warranted the keeping of a secret journal
and he was assiduous in it's upkeep. After the war he planned to
someday publish his account but the months, then the years, then the
decades passed by.
In 1995 this writer met Father Foley and questioned him about his
wartime service. The interview became a series of meetings and
eventually a warm friendship. Foley's reminiscences and diary account
were combined with a study on the history of the chaplaincy, which
reaches back nearly to the foundation of the Church. The resultant
volume is not simply Foley's story but a revealing page in the history of
the Church in the darkest days of the twentieth century. Though Father
Foley did not live to see the finished result, it was clearly his wish that
his story be told, unvarnished and with often-brutal honesty.
story of John P. Foley, S.J., a Jesuit
priest who left a comfortable position
as teacher and administrator at
Boston College to serve as a naval
chaplain during World War II.
Though the New England Provincial
was reluctant to let him go, Foley
wrangled permission to take up a
berth in the Navy for the duration.
His one motivation was, in his own
words, to be with the boys "when
they were fighting and dying...that
was it."
As events unfolded, Foley saw a
great deal of both, and fulfilled his
mission in succoring those who were
questioning their faith, those who had
no faith, those who were about to die.
He saw action in the North African
campaign aboard the attack transport
George Clymer before passing
through the Panama Canal and
assignment to the "Cactus Run" resupplying
Guadalcanal. His experiences made him a better priest and a better
man. Foley dealt with and admonished fanatical anti-Catholics and
self-serving officers looking to further their careers on the backs of the
enlisted men. But he also grew in his own faith and understanding of his
vocation. He encountered frightened young men, whom he always
referred to as "his boys" weep before an invasion and yet lay down their
lives after he assured them that the Lord had not abandoned them. He
felt great gratitude as Catholics and non-Catholics honored him for his
daily efforts, minor and major, on their behalf. And he saw, far removed
from his familiar Jesuit houses in Europe and America, the Church
Universal in action. He saw incredibly dedicated missionaries in some of
the most God-forsaken places on earth, spend their lives, body and soul,
in trying to raise the natives from paganism.
When the madness finally ended, Foley walked alone through the
blasted streets of Japan and ruminated on all he had seen and done
during his service in the greatest war the world had ever known and he
realized that his life and his priesthood would never be the same.
John Foley's story was very nearly lost. After the war he returned to
America to resume his duties as a member of the Society of Jesus in
New England. He soldiered on through the confident fifties and
weathered the storm of the Conciliar era. By the early 1990s he was still
conducting retreats but was resigned to the fate that beckons all men.
When he was diagnosed with a fatal illness he made his final
preparations for the inevitable. Despite his belief that he had done his
best, there was one piece of unfinished business that troubled him.
During the war Foley had kept a detailed diary chronicling his daily
experiences. Though diaries were forbidden by regulations, he felt that
the importance of the events warranted the keeping of a secret journal
and he was assiduous in it's upkeep. After the war he planned to
someday publish his account but the months, then the years, then the
decades passed by.
In 1995 this writer met Father Foley and questioned him about his
wartime service. The interview became a series of meetings and
eventually a warm friendship. Foley's reminiscences and diary account
were combined with a study on the history of the chaplaincy, which
reaches back nearly to the foundation of the Church. The resultant
volume is not simply Foley's story but a revealing page in the history of
the Church in the darkest days of the twentieth century. Though Father
Foley did not live to see the finished result, it was clearly his wish that
his story be told, unvarnished and with often-brutal honesty.
