I first met Father Vincent Capodanno during a combat field
operation somewhere in Vietnam.
It was a Sunday and he was our field Chaplin. I wasn’t Catholic, but a church service seemed
welcoming considering our miserable circumstances.
Several of us attended his service, all of various faiths;
that didn’t matter. Father Capodanno’s service somehow provided us with a
connection to our normal lives back home and brought some sanity to an
environment of madness.
When Father Capodanno wasn’t in Chu Lai at his Chapel or
in the hospital visiting the injured, he was with us out in combat-always
serving God and the Marines; never thinking of himself or his own safety.
During our idle time in Vietnam my buddies and I would talk
about going home or what we would do when we got home: the girls we knew, the
cars we drove, the places we would hang out. I was sure Father Capodanno never
had those thoughts. His thoughts were there, in Vietnam, thinking and striving to
help others.
I remember on one occasion during another operation, we
were sweeping a field walking in a horizontal formation. About fifteen yards
from me two Marines had tripped some type of landmine and were seriously
injured. Out of nowhere Father Capodanno climbed a fence, ran out in front of
everyone, and was the first person to arrive at their side.
He gave no thought
to his own life-he knew he had to get to them to serve the faith that he so
truly believed. It made us feel good to know he was with us.
I am thankful to God I was blessed to have been able to
share a small portion of Father Capodanno’s life in Chu Lai, South Vietnam.
Shortly after I returned home I learned that he was killed
during Operation Swift. As I read the details of his death, I knew he was doing
what he had done so often; he was helping and comforting others.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Father
Capodanno. He has always been, and still is, an inspiration of my life.
