Pearl Harbor: December 7, 1941. It was a few minutes before 8 a.m. and Captain Mervyn S. Bennion was preparing to leave the battleship West Virginia to attend Sunday School and fast meeting in Honolulu. The previous evening he had visited his wife's relatives in town and had been urged to stay there overnight rather than return to his ship. His deep sense of duty took him back there to do the job that only he could do.

Attack!

When a sailor on watch from the bridge frantically reported a Japanese air attack coming, Captain Bennion moved to immediate action and called his men to their battle stations. Then he took his own station at the conning tower on the flag bridge, and checked the readiness of his crew for battle. Disaster was inevitable that fateful morning. His ship was struck in the side by three torpedoes from Japanese planes, and then bombers directly overhead hit twice more. The bomb that fell into the magazine did not explode; thus his ship did not go down as did the nearby battleship, Arizona.

When the first devastating attack was largely past, Captain Bennion started his survey of the ship and crew. Then, apparently, a bomb exploded on a turret of the battleship Tennessee, alongside the West Virginia; and a splinter of that bomb hit Captain Bennion in his midsection, tearing off the top of his stomach. He fell, rolled over on his back, and put back the organs which had spilled out. A pharmacist's mate put a simple bandage over the wounded abdomen, and he would have done more but was ordered below by Captain Bennion to care for the wounded there.

His Men Responded to His Spirit

Courage is contagious, and his men responded with vigor and dedication as Captain Bennion kept control and direction of his ship, even while his life was ebbing away. One of the commanders at Pearl Harbor said later that the guns of the West Virginia brought down many enemy planes that day.

So he died; and the flames that seared the navigation bridge of his ship should also burn into our consciousness that the captain was an authentic naval hero. In life he was quiet, unassuming, self-effacing. Approaching death he was strong, powerful, and heroic.

A lump formed in my throat when I read the newspaper accounts of the heroic death of Captain Mervyn Sharp Bennion. I was a missionary in Hilo, Hawaii, at the time, and immensely proud of the devoted Latter-day Saint who had brought so much favorable attention to the Church. But more important, my own yearnings to live a life of courage found vicarious fulfillment as I read the account of the last minutes of a truly courageous man.

Here was literally "a case study in courage" which reminded me of the Biblical statement, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power...." (II Timothy 1:7.)

It happened on the decks of the battleship West Virginia, but its beginning took place a half century earlier in the little town of Vernon, Tooele County, Utah. You see, one of the first things one learns in reviewing a case study of courage is that it does not suddenly just happen; it does not just appear out of the blue, as did the Japanese airplanes over the Waianae Mountains of Oahu that sunny Sunday morning.

Early Life of the Captain

As I tried to visualize Captain Bennion's lonely figure lying on the navigation bridge of his ship that morning, I mused that he might have seen--in those final moments--his life's events pass before him. Amid the horrors of death--the billows of smoke, the cries of the wounded, the hissings of hot metal slipping into the waters of Pearl Harbor, the drone of airplanes overhead, and all of the confusion of the moment--I envisioned that here was a man who had peace of mind, a man ready to meet his Maker.

Captain Bennion was reared in Vernon, Utah; and in those last moments of his life he might have thought of his childhood there, exploring the wonders of the farm. He may have thought fondly of his parents and family, and the little church which provided him with the spiritual undershoring that had conditioned his whole life. It was in that Vernon home and church that Mervyn learned "of love and of sound mind," which Paul talks about in II Timothy. It was there that he learned devotion to his family, to his country, and to his Church.

His love of country had developed in the warmth of that home and community on the edge of the desert. It had flourished as he learned of grandparents--Scotch and Welsh--who came to the new world in response to the message of a new religion. It had soared as he read and heard of stirring exploits of his pioneer forebears and other servants of God.

Mervyn's younger brother, Howard, has observed that in spite of the humble--if not primitive--conditions of their environment, Mervyn learned "faith, reverence, respect for others, confidence in himself, and strong sense of right and wrong. He had a fear of wrongdoing and of giving unnecessary offense; a desire to do his full share of the work, to be helpful and willing. He had a healthy ambition to reach the full stature of his capabilities and to discharge the full measure of his purpose in life."

Among eight brothers and sisters, and probably 35 Church friends and schoolmates (he attended a one-room log school with pupils varying in ages from 6 to 25 in grades one to eight), he developed a social consciousness of responsibility to his fellowmen.

He Prepared for a Life of Service

It was in Vernon that Mervyn made his decision to devote his life to the service of his country. Although his first thought was directed to West Point and an army career, the opportunity came to attend the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis; and he took it. He learned his job well.

For almost two hours after the burst of shrapnel hit Captain Bennion that Sunday morning, he gave orders and directed the affairs of the ship from a supine position on the lateral walk to the flag bridge.

His physical stamina, a vital ingredient in his final display of courage, was developed many years earlier as Mervyn plowed, grubbed and burned sagebrush, fenced, handled horses and cattle, dug ditches and cleared the land at the foot of the West Tintic Mountains near Vernon. The firmness and vigor that were deep in his soul from those beginnings came to the fore that day when he resisted all efforts by his fellow officers and crew to remove him to safety. The final two hours of his life were typical of his disciplined, trained, and dependable nature.

His was very much an intelligent kind of courage. His life of faithfulness and spirituality had equipped him to finish his job on earth--and to meet his Maker. The philosophy of life which he learned in the Bennion home in Vernon and his devoted service to the Church--in spite of constant moves as a naval officer--gave Captain Mervyn S. Bennion courage to endure a painful death.

To me, this is a magnificent case study in the quality of courage.