Medal of Honor Monday: Fred W. Stockham
This Marine gave rushed to the aid of a wounded comrade in the middle of a mustard gas attack.
On this day in 1918, the World War I Battle of Belleau Wood continues. Gunnery Sergeant Fred Stockham was right in the thick of it, ultimately earning a Medal of Honor for his actions.
His heroism revolved around a unique feature of the Great War: poisonous gases.
Stockham was perhaps an unlikely hero. Orphaned when he was young, he was raised in foster care. Did his childhood leave him with an urge to rescue others? Or did he develop an urge to rush toward danger?
Maybe. He was first a fireman, then he enlisted in the Marine Corps.
He served for a time and was honorably discharged in July 1907. But it would seem that he couldn’t stay away from the Marines: He soon re-enlisted. By January 1918, he’d volunteered to serve in France and was headed overseas.
Belleau Wood was no picnic. Indeed, Marine lore has it that the Corps’ nickname Teufel Hunden (Devil Dogs) originated during this battle, which was fought in June 1918.
Stockham’s heroism came on the night of June 13-14. German forces were not only bombarding our men with artillery, but they’d also released mustard gas. Marines were equipped with gas masks, of course. They knew the dangers.
“They called it the ‘Agony of the Damned,’” Michael Perrone says, then president of Belleville Historical Society, in Stockham’s hometown. “It was an agonizing death. You were basically burned alive from the inside out.”
The battle was fierce. Wounded Marines were falling, and Stockham was among those going back and forth, evacuating them to safety.
“There was a great deal of confusion, due not only to the barrage, but also due to the darkness and unfamiliarity of the area which we occupied,” Marine Barak Mattingly later described. “It was extremely dark and the atmosphere was thoroughly impregnated with both mustard and phosgene gas. It was difficult to ascertain the location of the men and to determine the condition of the wounded, and this was made doubly so by the fact that it was necessary to wear a gas mask at all times.”
Pvt. Mattingly was among those who had fallen wounded.
Some accounts say that Stockham was trying to rescue him when an enemy blast took out Mattingly’s gas mask. Others say he looked over, saw the gas mask get blown off, then leapt to Mattingly’s aid. Either way, Stockham ripped off his own gas mask, giving it to Mattingly and carrying him to safety.
“Several of us urged Sergt. Stockham to keep his mask so that he would be able to continue his [evacuation] work,” Mattingly remembered, “but he refused . . . .”
Fully exposed, Stockham went back, evacuating more men before collapsing. He suffered from the effects of the gas for days before passing away on June 22.
“No man ever displayed greater heroism or courage and showed more utter contempt of personal danger,” Clifton B. Cates, then commanding Stockham’s company, observed. The future Marine Commandant called Stockham the “bravest man I ever knew.”
He recommended Stockham for a Medal of Honor, but the recommendation got lost. Years later, when Mattingly and Cates discovered what had happened, they went to work, fighting to secure the honor.
Stockham posthumously received the Medal in December 1939. No next of kin could be found, so the Smithsonian accepted it on his behalf.
Other honors have been awarded to this brave Marine: An American Legion post was named for him, as were two ships: WWII destroyer USS Stockham and, more recently, USNS GySgt Fred W. Stockham. The first of these was christened by a grateful Mrs. Mattingly.
“He was utterly indifferent to certain death,” Mattingly concluded, “which he and all of us knew would result from his action.”
Rest in peace, Sir.
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What courage and bravery!🇺🇸
This would seem like the worst way to die....