The true story of a remarkable Catholic chaplain who served in the Pacific

Almost everyone who reached the South Pacific during the Second World War had heard something of Father Lawrence Lynch. And Father Lynch knew by first name every soldier in his area. Catholics, Protestants, Jews — they all loved this dynamic chaplain from Brooklyn.

He had his men in the palm of his hand from the very beginning when he stepped to the foot of the improvised altar, stood there in uniform, legs apart, square-set, and said in a clear distinct voice: "I'm Father Lawrence Lynch — and I'm from Brooklyn. I'm God's gift to the Army and to you guys and if any man doubts that statement I'll be glad to prove it — after Mass." When a belly laugh sounded from one end of the chapel to the other, he said: "Thanks. Now let's get down to the business at hand. We're going to celebrate Holy Mass — that's what you're here for."

The business at hand included everything from Mass to arranging Jewish services. It meant loud talking, occasional "law breaking", writing love letters for his men to their sweethearts, playing poker, and holding Missions that kept men coming by the thousands.

Father Cyclone was indeed a militant Catholic; but he was also eager to help men of other faiths follow their own desires. He was a man of men and a man of God, who was cut down on Okinawa by a live shell while administering last rites to a dying boy.

But the legend of his amazing exploits did not die. His story is one of the most remarkable — and inspirational — to come out of the War. Whatever your creed, you won't put it down.

From the dust jacket