Father to Margene & Charles Gordon Frank.
Was a prisoner of War & died in Tanagawa prison Camp, Osaka,Japan from a virus to the brain.
From Reflections Upon the Character of Captain Frank:
He was the Chaplain at the camp. He had had too many narrow escapes on Bataan, including men being shot all around him and a bomb exploding beside him. Captain Frank was a humble, quiet-spoken man, very nice looking, and always clean. He was calm and poised; he never got ruffled; and he had a quality of leadership that men unquestioningly followed.
He spent long hours with the sick and dying, carrying water to them, writing letters to their loved ones at home for them, trying to cheer them up in their wretchedness and pain. You saw this Good Samaritan trying to find a warm shirt for some ragged, blond kid with a fever, or begging for rags from the Japs with which to wrap the bleeding feet and hands of practically fleshless Americans. Everyone in the camp respected him.
That day I was in charge of a six-man detain on the farthest corner of the dock. That was how I saw Captain Frank's box as it was carried by. They were taking his body to be cremated. I stood, bowed my head, and prayed with all the fervor in my body for a man whom the world never knew, who gave his life for his country.
Father to Margene & Charles Gordon Frank.
Was a prisoner of War & died in Tanagawa prison Camp, Osaka,Japan from a virus to the brain.
From Reflections Upon the Character of Captain Frank:
He was the Chaplain at the camp. He had had too many narrow escapes on Bataan, including men being shot all around him and a bomb exploding beside him. Captain Frank was a humble, quiet-spoken man, very nice looking, and always clean. He was calm and poised; he never got ruffled; and he had a quality of leadership that men unquestioningly followed.
He spent long hours with the sick and dying, carrying water to them, writing letters to their loved ones at home for them, trying to cheer them up in their wretchedness and pain. You saw this Good Samaritan trying to find a warm shirt for some ragged, blond kid with a fever, or begging for rags from the Japs with which to wrap the bleeding feet and hands of practically fleshless Americans. Everyone in the camp respected him.
That day I was in charge of a six-man detain on the farthest corner of the dock. That was how I saw Captain Frank's box as it was carried by. They were taking his body to be cremated. I stood, bowed my head, and prayed with all the fervor in my body for a man whom the world never knew, who gave his life for his country.
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