DOB/DOD: January 17, 1927 (Jersey City, NJ) – November 19, 1967; 40 years old
RELIGION: Roman Catholic
MARITAL STATUS: Unmarried
COLLEGE: Graduated from Seton Hall University; ordained by the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Newark in 1953.
SERVICE NUMBER: O-3139624
ENLISTMENT: 1962-1964, Air National Guard; 1964-1967, Chaplain Corps, Army
MILITARY OCCUPATIONAL SPECIALTY: 5310, Chaplain
TOUR START DATE: July 5, 1966
UNIT: 173rd Support Battalion, 173rd Airborne Brigade
CASUALTY LOCATION: Battle of Dak To, Hill 875, Kontum Province, Republic of Vietnam
ON THE WALL: Panel 30E, Line 36
FAMILY: Born to Edward F. (1886-1952) and Josephine Crane Watters (1888-1953). Two brothers, Kenneth J. (1921-2004) and Edward F. Jr. [Army veteran] (1925-1998). One sister, Myra [died of polio at age 6] (1916-1922).
DECORATIONS: Awarded The Medal of Honor, Bronze Star Medal for Valor, Air Medal, and Purple Heart Medal.
CIRCUMSTANCES: On November 19, 1967, during the Battle of Dak, one of the worst friendly fire incidents of the Vietnam War occurred when a Marine Corps fighter-bomber dropped two bombs into the perimeter where officers and non-commissioned officers of 2nd Battalion, 503rd Infantry had set up a command post with their radio operators. The soldiers of the 173rd Airborne Brigade were dug in on the steep southern slope of Hill 875, fighting beside napalm fires and exposed to the guns of the North Vietnamese Army shooting from tunnels nearby. Just past dusk, after making three dry runs over the battlefield, the Marine Corps A-4 attack jet descended to 1,000 feet above the jungle and released two 250-pound Mk-81 bombs fitted with Snakeye fins. Barreling in on a shallow 10-degree angle at hundreds of miles per hour, the two bombs from the A-4 hit the ground. One was a dud. The other exploded in a huge orange fireball. Instead of hitting the North Vietnamese, the bomb struck the branches of a lone tree along the Americans’ perimeter, under which the battalion had set up their command post. It was also a casualty-collection point where the most badly wounded soldiers were being treated by medics while awaiting medevac helicopters to take them off the hill. The bomb killed 21 men and wounded 10 more, including most of the remaining senior leaders and medics. A single radio operator was spared when he was protected by a pile of broken tree trunks that absorbed deadly fragments. The dead included MAJ Charles Watters, a 40-year-old Catholic priest who served as the battalion’s chaplain. Earlier in the battle, Watters had ventured out past the perimeter several times to rescue wounded soldiers, carrying or dragging them to safety, providing first aid and administering last rites to the dying—actions for which he was later awarded the Medal of Honor. After witnessing what happened below, a crewman on a U.S. Air Force AC-47 “Spooky” gunship flying in a slow circle 3,000 feet above the dead and wounded troops tossed parachute flares out the back of the plane to help survivors on the ground see in the darkness. A January 1968 U.S. Air Force investigation into the incident was inconclusive, declaring that “there is insufficient evidence to determine the exact cause of the short round” before blaming “improper release conditions.” The investigator recommended that pilots undergo remedial training and that the investigation be closed, as it had revealed “no gross personnel errors nor evidence of equipment malfunction.” [From coffeltdatabase.org and “The Secret History of a Vietnam War Airstrike Gone Terribly Wrong” by John Ismay, nytimes.com, January 2019]
NOTE: Chaplain Watters was the nephew of Navy Boatswain’s Mate Second Class John James Doran, who received the Medal of Honor in the Spanish-American War.
Seton Hall Preparatory High School, West Orange, New Jersey, Class of 1945 yearbook
Citation to accompany the award of the Medal of Honor
AWARDED FOR ACTIONS DURING: Vietnam War
Service: Army
Battalion: 173d Support Battalion
GENERAL ORDERS: Department of the Army, General Orders No. 71 (November 20, 1969)
The President of the United States of America, in the name of Congress, takes pride in presenting the Medal of Honor (Posthumously) to Major (Chaplain) Charles Joseph Watters (ASN: 0-3139624), United States Army (Reserve), for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving with Company A, 173d Support Battalion, 173d Airborne Brigade, in action against enemy aggressor forces in an assault on Hill 875, Dak To, Kontum Province, Republic of Vietnam, on 19 November 1967. Chaplain Watters was moving with one of the companies when it engaged a heavily armed enemy battalion. As the battle raged and the casualties mounted, Chaplain Watters, with complete disregard for his safety, rushed forward to the line of contact. Unarmed and completely exposed, he moved among, as well as in front of the advancing troops, giving aid to the wounded, assisting in their evacuation, giving words of encouragement, and administering the last rites to the dying. When a wounded paratrooper was standing in shock in front of the assaulting forces, Chaplain Watters ran forward, picked the man up on his shoulders, and carried him to safety. As the troopers battled to the first enemy entrenchment, Chaplain Watters ran through the intense enemy fire to the front of the entrenchment to aid a fallen comrade. A short time later, the paratroopers pulled back in preparation for a second assault. Chaplain Watters exposed himself to both friendly and enemy fire between the two forces in order to recover two wounded soldiers. Later, when the battalion was forced to pull back into a perimeter, Chaplain Watters noticed that several wounded soldiers were lying outside the newly formed perimeter. Without hesitation and ignoring attempts to restrain him, Chaplain Watters left the perimeter three times in the face of small arms, automatic weapons, and mortar fire to carry and to assist the injured troopers to safety. Satisfied that all of the wounded were inside the perimeter, he began aiding the medics–applying field bandages to open wounds, obtaining and serving food and water, giving spiritual and mental strength and comfort. During his ministering, he moved out to the perimeter from position to position, redistributing food and water, and tending to the needs of his men. Chaplain Watters was giving aid to the wounded when he himself was mortally wounded. Chaplain Watters’ unyielding perseverance and selfless devotion to his comrades was in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Army.
From the Knights of Columbus
By Joseph Pronechen | May 1, 2024
Father Charles J. Watters celebrated his last Mass on November 19, 1967, on a bright Sunday morning deep in the central highlands of South Vietnam. Vested in a camouflage poncho liner, the U.S. Army chaplain stood at an altar constructed of C-ration boxes at the base of Hill 875 near the village of Dak To. A larger than usual number of paratroopers from the 2nd Battalion, 503rd Infantry Regiment, 173rd Airborne Brigade — known as Sky Soldiers — were in attendance.
“It was an exceptionally good turnout,” recalled Robert Fleming, Delta Company’s radio operator. “Because everyone knew what we were getting into that day.”
John Berry, also of D Company, later described Father Watters’ demeanor: “He usually was in his typical East Coast fast-talk mode. [At] the services he performed the morning we went up on 875, he was unusually slow and deliberate. In retrospect, it was almost like he had knowledge of what was going to happen.”
After Mass, approximately 300 paratroopers from Alpha, Charlie, and Delta companies received orders to attack and seize Hill 875 from a regiment of 2,000 North Vietnamese Army soldiers. The fight for Hill 875 was the culminating encounter of the Battle of Dak To, a nearly monthlong series of engagements with the NVA for control of the region.
On November 19, one of the bloodiest days for American troops in the Vietnam War, Father Watters repeatedly ran unarmed and exposed through front-line gunfire to care for and evacuate numerous wounded men. At dusk, a Marine fighter-bomber mistakenly dropped a bomb directly upon Company C’s command post and aid station halfway up Hill 875. More than 40 men were killed, including Father Watters.
For his actions that day, Chaplain Watters, who was a member of Regina Council 1688 in Rutherford, New Jersey, was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor — becoming one of only five chaplains to receive the accolade since the Civil War.
Born to be an Airborne Priest
Charles Joseph Watters was born into a devout Catholic family in Jersey City, New Jersey, on Jan. 17, 1927. The youngest of three boys (a younger sister died of polio at age 6), he loved to play baseball with his brothers, Kenneth and Edward, and the other kids on the block. He was also drawn to the priesthood at a young age.
After two years of study at Seton Hall University, Watters entered Immaculate Conception Seminary in Darlington, New Jersey, and was ordained in 1953 for the Archdiocese of Newark. His first assignment as a priest was at St. Mary’s Church in Rutherford, where he joined the Knights of Columbus. He later served, among other assignments, at St. Michael Church in Cranford.
Ed Nestor, a member of Cranford Council 6226 who served Father Watters’ Masses as a boy, remembers him as a quiet, humble priest who was “always active with the CYO kids in the gym.”
Father Watters’ love of flying led him to become a private pilot. He joined the New Jersey Air National Guard in 1962 and soon became its chaplain.
When the Vietnam War ramped up in 1965, 38-year-old Father Watters volunteered as a chaplain with the U.S. Army. After completing the rigorous Airborne training, he was assigned to the Support Battalion of the 173rd Airborne Brigade and, in June 1966, began a 12-month tour of duty in Vietnam.
His family recalls that the priest, who enjoyed photography, brought a camera on his deployment and joked that if he were ever in a battle, he would hold it up and yell, “Tourist!”
In reality, Father Watters regularly served the brigade on the front lines, where he believed he was most needed, and his reputation for staying with units in combat became something of a legend. On Feb. 22, 1967, he took part in the only mass combat jump of the war, parachuting to earth with the 2nd Battalion, 503rd Infantry, as part of Operation Junction City. Five months later, he received a Bronze Star with a “V” for valor for administering last rites to a fatally wounded man under heavy fire.
“When he came home from his first tour of duty, he couldn’t wait to get back to ‘his boys,’” his late brother Ken, a longtime Knight, once recalled.
Soon enough, Father Watters volunteered for a six-month extension and was back with the 173rd.
According to Wambi Cook, Alpha Company’s radio operator and currently president of the 173rd Airborne Association, Father Watters didn’t resign himself to staying in the base camps.
“He felt more comfortable out there with the troops,” Cook said. “I’m not Catholic, but I can assure you that half the attendees at any of his Masses were non-Catholics. I can hear his voice now, calling out. He walked through the lines, beckoning all the guys to Mass — and he always had a good turnout.”
Twenty to 30 soldiers usually came to daily Mass, but on the morning of Nov. 19, nearly 100 men answered Father Watters’ call to worship.
‘He was omnipresent’
As they fought their way up Hill 875 later that day, the battalion was soon immersed in a barrage of machine gun, mortar, and rocket fire from the entrenched North Vietnamese Army. Disregarding danger, 40-year-old Father Watters constantly moved through the lines, on the lookout for those in need of help.
“He was omnipresent, always mobile,” Cook said. “How the Padre managed to embed himself in every conceivable location within our ranks is beyond my comprehension.”
The citation for his Medal of Honor gives a sense of just how mobile Father Watters was that day. It describes him moving among, as well as in front of, the advancing troops — giving aid to the wounded, assisting in their evacuation, and administering last rites to the dying. It also describes the chaplain risking his life repeatedly to rescue fellow soldiers:
“When a wounded paratrooper was standing in shock in front of the assaulting forces, Chaplain Watters ran forward, picked the man up on his shoulders, and carried him to safety. As the troopers battled to the first enemy entrenchment, Chaplain Watters ran through the intense enemy fire to the front of the entrenchment to aid a fallen comrade. …
“Later, when the battalion was forced to pull back into a perimeter, Chaplain Watters noticed that several wounded soldiers were lying outside the newly formed perimeter. Without hesitation and ignoring attempts to restrain him, Chaplain Watters left the perimeter three times in the face of small-arms, automatic-weapons, and mortar fire to carry and to assist the injured troopers to safety.”
As the sun began to set that day, Cook saw Father Watters ministering to soldiers within the tight perimeter: “I can recall him calling out, probably talking to guys personally. He was attending to the wounded. I know that was his modus operandi.”
John Berry of D Company ran into Father Watters as he returned from the front lines.
“As he passed by, we asked him where his helmet was. His reply was, ‘I carry my protection a little higher.’ With that, he was off to attend to the wounded. That was the last time I saw him.”
Among the last people to speak with Father Watters was radio operator Robert Fleming. He was digging a foxhole at the command post when Watters arrived just before 7 p.m.
“Father came in and said, ‘Hey, Bob, throw me my rucksack.’ It was right next to me, so I pitched it to him,” Fleming recalled. “Then he sat down and started eating his C-rations, because he hadn’t eaten all day, and I went back to my digging.”
“The next thing I heard was a loud bang, and I saw a flame front come at me that enveloped my whole body, and then I was unconscious.”
Fleming somehow survived the blast, caused by a 250-pound bomb mistakenly dropped on the command post by an American pilot. It was among the worst “friendly fire” incidents of the war, killing 42 military personnel and wounding 45.
Once word got out that Chaplain Watters was among the KIAs, paratroopers immediately started saying that he deserved the Medal of Honor.
“Probably 90% of those of us who survived and knew Father Watters submitted his name for the award,” Cook affirmed.
Honoring a holy chaplain
Army Major Charles Joseph Watters was buried with full military honors in Arlington National Cemetery. Kenneth and Edward Watters received the Medal of Honor on their brother’s behalf from Vice President Spiro Agnew in Washington, D.C., on November 4, 1969.
Other honors followed. The U.S. Army Chaplain Center and School at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, renamed its building Watters Hall. Fort Bragg in North Carolina named a building the Watters Family Life Center in honor of the chaplain. In the chaplain’s hometown of Jersey City, a public school was renamed Chaplain Charles J. Watters School. About a dozen Knights of Columbus councils and assemblies are named in his honor as well.
With support from Cranford Council 6226, St. Michael’s Parish placed a granite memorial monument in front of the church honoring their former priest.
Eleven years ago, a parishioner suggested honoring Father Watters with a float in the local Memorial Day parade. The council borrowed a chasuble and a uniform and created a tableau on the back of a pickup truck that depicts Father Watters celebrating Mass before a kneeling soldier. The float has been a council tradition in every parade since 2013.
“Father Watters needs to be remembered for what he did, and in our small way here in Cranford, we try to keep his memory alive every year with our commemorative float,” explained Past Grand Knight John Doolan. His sons, Johnny and Bill, now members of the council, portrayed the priest and the soldier several times.
A few days before the 50th anniversary of Father Watters’ death, a Sky Soldier from A Company, 2nd Battalion, named William Heath, left a note for the chaplain on the Wall of Faces, a website sponsored by the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund.
“I was at your final service on that eerie, quiet morning before going up Hill 875,” Heath wrote. “Your smile, positive attitude, and dedication to us have been a permanent inspiration for me. It will be 50 years this Nov. 19th since I received Communion on that deadly day. Father, for 50 years I have remembered you when I receive Communion. I thank God for you being with us when you did not have to be there.”
There is no doubt that the chaplain’s selfless actions that fateful day saved lives and saved souls. The news of his death was devastating for those who survived, according to those who personally testified to Father Watters’ bravery.
“Father Watters was a symbol of God and of good to the 2nd Battalion,” wrote a platoon leader in the 173rd Airborne Brigade. “We lost many good men on Hill 875, but we lost more than a man in losing Father Watters.”
From vvmf.org by Chuck Huller, March 31, 2024
Father Watters and I were in the same stick at jump school in ’65. He was 21 years older than me, and one could feel his courage then. We made our 1st jump together when we were at Campbell, which was a night jump, and it was the roughest weather I ever experienced, because of all of the brass on the plane, which was a 124, and we jumped even after the head came off the wind dummy. We just looked at each other and slightly shook our heads.
I ran into him at our base camp in Bien Hoa, and we both remembered those tough days at jump school and laughed hard reminiscing about that night jump when he put my chute on upside down and Capt Walt Rosso screamed at both of us without realizing he was crushing at a Catholic Priest as he roughly took my shoot off and put it on the right way. We both thought Capt Rosso was going to beat us up; he was so angry. This was my first experience with Captain Rosso, who was my OC at Campbell, and he proved to be the best professional soldier I had the privilege to serve with in my 10 years in the service, with 6 years in Asia.
Walt Rosso was like a strict father to me, and we remained good friends for decades. At the last 173rd reunion in Nashville, Walt was in the hospital in serious condition, and I spent an hour with him, and we both remembered that night jump, and we both laughed because he thought Father Watters was a private. Father Watters made his family and friends proud of him. He made our Airborne Corps and the American people proud of him, and he’s made God Almighty proud of him. When I heard that he was killed in action at the end, I openly cried.
Chuck Huller
1/501 101st Airborne (Geronimo Battalion) 65-66
4/503rd 173rd Airborne Brigade
Geronimo battalion
Honorary naming and memorials
The bridge on Route 3 in New Jersey spanning the Passaic River between Clifton and Rutherford has been named in honor of Chaplain Watters.
Public School No. 24 in Jersey City was named after him.
Chaplain Charles J Watters Center in Fort Campbell, Kentucky.
Memorial located at St. Michael’s Church, 501 North Church Road, Cranford, New Jersey, commemorating his service to the parish and for receiving the Medal of Honor.
Buried at Arlington National Cemetery, 1 Memorial Avenue, Arlington, Virginia; Section 2; Grave E-186-A. Photo from ancexplorer.army.mil.
END