A Korean War veteran shares how Jesus gets the glory for bringing him comfort in the middle of earthly hell.

At age 16, Don Childs Sr. decided he no longer needed God. "I didn't believe in church, I didn't like pastors, and I didn't like God," he says.

That all changed when he turned 19.

Serving his country

"I arrived in Korea along with two thousand other GIs. It was Oct. 1, 1951," he says. Assigned to the 3rd Infantry Division, his first six weeks were quiet. He spent some of that time in the kitchen because "if you weren't in worship, you had KP. I was up to my elbows in potatoes," he says, when the chaplain came in and offered him a copy of the New Testament with Psalms and Proverbs. Childs refused it, but the chaplain put it in Childs' pocket and said, "You're going to need this, Son, when you get to the front line."

He was right. On Thanksgiving Day, the Chinese overran the 15th Regiment on Hill 355. At 1 a.m., Childs' 7th Regiment loaded on trucks and headed north for the front line. "It was below zero and the trucks were unheated, yet we were still wearing summer-issued combat boots. I remember how very cold we all were as they took us along the twisting, winding mountain road," says Childs. "We could hear the thunder of artillery in the distance. We glanced at each other, but nobody spoke a word. This is what we had been training for—and we knew some of us would not come back alive. Several hours later, the trucks stopped. We unloaded and began the two-day walk through the rugged mountain terrain to Hill 355. It was slow going, and tempers were short."

When they reached the base of the hill, they were ordered to wait until dawn before climbing. As they waited, artillery whistled overhead, crashing on the west side of the hill. "Sometimes a short round would land on us, killing or wounding our GIs," Childs remembers. At dawn the big guns became quiet, and they began their final ascent.

"When we reached the summit, we encountered something I've never been able to erase from my memory," says Childs. "Dead bodies were strewn everywhere. To my right lying facedown was a soldier severed at the waist. To my left was another dead soldier, sitting with his head bowed, against the hill, in a destroyed bunker. In his jacket pocket was a letter from his mother, hoping he would soon be home." In addition to American soldiers, the west side of that hill contained many dead Chinese infantry. Many were missing arms and legs; some had their heads blown off.

"I was scared to death! I was shocked and horrified. I wanted to get out of there alive. So I screamed within myself, 'Dear God, whoever you are, if you'll save me from this hell, I'll seek you out,' " he says. "I didn't know what I was talking about, but I wanted to know who God was."