the battlefields of Europe to camps in North America.

On a continuous loop, the deep, plummy voice of actor David Fox-Brenton tells the Dorchester’s story: “It was to be the third-largest loss of life at sea for the United States in World War II. On board were almost 1,000 men — and four immortal chaplains....”


Fox-Brenton, who lives in Mission Viejo, is a nephew of one of the heroic quartet, Methodist chaplain George Fox. In 2000, Fox-Brenton introduced Dorchester survivors to former crew members of U-223, the Nazi submarine that attacked their ship. One of them, Gerhard Buske, played “Amazing Grace” on his harmonica — an instrument that he had played aboard the sub and later donated to the museum.

“It was a very emotional time,” Fox-Brenton said. He started theJolson, left behind his young family. So did Dutch Reformed minister Clark Poling, 32, a seventh-generation clergyman and son of a fiery evangelist. Fox, 42, the Methodist minister, had lied about his age to enlist in World War I; he was 17 when he received the French Croix de Guerre after giving his gas mask to a wounded soldier.


Eleven nights after the Dorchester’s voyage began, a German torpedo ripped open its hull. Men choked on ammonia pouring out of a refrigeration system and drowned as oily seawater poured into their cramped quarters below deck. Many who scrambled out after the 1 a.m. blast were clad only in their underwear, having ignored orders to sleep fully clothed, with life jackets at the ready, while crossing submarine-infested waters.

On deck, the