Richard Shannon: ‘God was with me’

This story begins with a young boy from the southside of Chicago. As he lies in his bed, looking at the church steeples just outside his bedroom window, he dreams of one day becoming a Catholic priest. Richard Shannon grew up in a large family that sent many of their own to seminary; he himself having older brothers and cousins who went on to Mundelein Seminary.  Little did the Shannon family know, their young Richard would not only reach his goal of being an ordained Catholic priest one day, but would also achieve the rank of Colonel in the U.S. Army. 

The Shannon family attended Saint Sabina Church in the Auburn Park neighborhood of Chicago’s southside. It was here, as an altar boy, that Richard began to consider his vocation in the church. He played basketball and was active in other sports, but his true calling far exceeded the bounds of becoming an athletic star. He entered Archbishop Quigley Preparatory Seminary where he completed his five years of studies. In a ceremony of just 26 seminarians, Richard J. Shannon was ordained as a Catholic Priest in 1959.  Of the 26 in his class, only three decided to also join the U.S. Army Reserve.

In his early days, the Reverend Father was assigned to St. Joseph Catholic Parish in the Brighton Park neighborhood of Chicago, close to his childhood parish; but all would soon change for him. See, Father Shannon had grown up reading about the Maryknoll Fathers and Brothers. For those who are not familiar, this order of Catholic priests, founded in 1910,are dedicated to performing missionary work and serving those in need around the world. Through his readings, he was particularly drawn to the story of Father Emil Kapaun; a priest of the Maryknoll order who had grown  up in Kansas. What made this story of great importance to Father Shannon was that as a missionary in 1951, Father Kapaun starved to death after saving the lives of many fellow starving prisoners of war in North Korea. 

It was now the 60s; Father Shannon was the leader of a parish sending large numbers of young men to the war in Southeast Asia. What started as a few men here and there quickly turned into weekly stories shared at each Sunday mass of sons and brothers shipping out to battle. Father Shannon wanted to be with his young parishioners. He reached out to the then Cardinal Cody and asked for permission to enlist with the armed forces. He felt it was his time. Unfortunately, the Cardinal did not see it the same way and wanted Father Shannon to remain in the archdiocese and continue his work in a parish. 

Not being one to take “no” for an answer, Father Shannon remained persistent over the next couple of years and regularly made the same request of the Cardinal. One summer afternoon, while he was on vacation with a few other local priests, a call came in from the Cardinal’s assistant. Father Shannon was summoned to see the Cardinal that next day, and it was in that meeting, that he was told he would be heading to active-duty service with the U.S. Army. 

From this point on, it was a whirlwind of activity for the good Father. He first took his mother on a trip to Ireland. Upon returning, he reported to the Chaplain’s program at Fort Hamilton in New York, then back to Chicago for a short stop before heading to Fort Hood in Texas. He would deploy with the 198th Infantry Brigade. With basic training now complete, it was off to Oakland, California where the 198th boarded the last ship to war. Moving forward, troops would travel via airplane to their destination. 

Father Shannon fondly recalls crossing under the Golden Gate Bridge and the two and a half month cruise that followed. This cruise had no casinos or seafood buffets… these boys were on their way to Nam.

Upon arriving in Da Nang, the troops were placed on smaller boats to head to their new home in Chu Lai. Things were suddenly getting very real. 

Father Shannon recalls that there were around 5,000 soldiers in the camp, but only one Catholic priest. His routine was to deliver Mass on Sunday mornings, then travel with his assistant to the camps within driving distance to say mass for the Catholic soldiers. He typically did not carry a weapon, but when he rode shotgun in the jeep, Father Shannon carried his assistant’s M16. Most of those Sunday trips were fairly unremarkable, but the other days of the week proved to be a bit more bracing. 

Monday to Friday, Father Shannon would start his days early by heading down to the helipad to depart for the nearby battle zones stationing soldiers from the 198th. Most of the battles took place at night so when the soldiers returned from their assignments, Father Shannon was a welcomed escape from what they were seeing in battle. Father said, “those masses were always very quiet, those boys were at peace.”

The army was flying the Bell UH-1H Iroquois, more commonly known to the masses as the Huey. It was the work horse of the U.S. Army at that time, and Father Shannon was a regular passenger. He would jump in and fly to his impromptu chapel in the brush, often with one leg hanging out the door to catch a breeze. One of the first times their gunman was firing down at the ground, he remembered feeling something bounce off his helmet and called out, “I’ve been hit.”  Only to be answered with, “Yeah, you been hit…hit by one of the shells coming out of that gun”.  When asked if he was scared, he simply said, “No, I had God with me.”  

He also told stories of delivering Mass out in the field, when they started taking incoming enemy fire. He’d jump behind a tombstone to take cover, because you see, Mass was being held in a cemetery that day. 

Generally, he was not that scared during his service, but with one exception. That being the day he saw the chopper pilot take his helmet off, and realized this boy was barely old enough to drive a car…yet here he was, flying him above the enemy as their aircraft was being shot at. 

Father Shannon had one more important story he wanted to share that has nothing to do with artillery or ammunitions. It’s about an orphanage just outside their camp in Chu Lai. Father Shannon and soldiers from the 198th often visited that orphanage; returning to camp to ask those gathered for Mass to write home and request clothes for the children. The soldiers had seen the war-ravaged villages across Vietnam and understood what was happening to these kids, and they saw this as a way to help those who were displaced and suffering. Father Shannon was deeply touched by the actions of so many of these troops, who chose to help these children with such a simple act of humanity. 

Father Shannon finished his tour in Vietnam and came back to the U.S. for a short stay, before shipping off to Korea to wrap up his active duty service.  He restarted his parish work on the southside of Chicago.

Much to his surprise, at age 59, he was called back up for Desert Storm. He could not believe they were really asking him to go to the Middle East but nonetheless, duty called. He delivered a special final Mass before leaving for war once again. The parish celebrated their Colonel Father, TV news outlets came to interview him, and many signs were hung wishing him well. But low and behold, the next Sunday, Father Shannon was back at the altar passing out Holy Communion. Thankfully, that war did not last long enough for him to even get there!