41 minute read
Wearing the Medal
WEARING
WEARING THE MEDAL
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— Gen. Alexander Archer Vandegrift, Commandant of the Marine Corps
RECIPIENT PHOTOS BY NICK DEL CALZO
HERSHEL WOODROW “WOODY” WILLIAMS
(OLDEST LIVING RECIPIENT) U.S. Marine Corps Reserve • Corporal (Highest Rank: Chief Warrant Officer Four) World War II • Iwo Jima • Feb. 23, 1945
SUMMARY: “Covered only by four riflemen, he fought desperately for four hours under terrific enemy small-arms fire and repeatedly returned to his own lines to prepare demolition charges and obtain serviced flamethrowers, struggling back, frequently to the rear of hostile emplacements, to wipe out one position after another.”
PRESENTATION DATE: Oct. 5, 1945, The White House, presented By President Harry S. Truman
IN HIS OWN WORDS: Hershel Woodrow "Woody" Williams
“I had been in the Civilian Conservation Corps. That was my first experience, pre-military, if you will. They were a little bit military. “The Civilian Conservation Corps was regulated by the Army, but we worked in civilian jobs off the Army base. And I had been in there for about a year and a half when Pearl Harbor happened. And I, along with a lot of other Americans, thought, ‘Well, if our country is threatened, and we’re going to lose our freedom – then we’re going to go fight.’ “So I requested my release from the Civilian Conservation Corps and went home to enlist in the Marine Corps.”
BEFORE THE ACTION: To a young man eager to defend his country, the bitter fighting against the Japanese on the island of Iwo Jima must have seemed a hell out of all proportion to duty. But as a Marine demolition operator, Corporal Hershel Williams carried with him a hell of his own – a terrible weapon capable of evening the odds in one of the war’s bloodiest engagements.
“When we got to Iwo Jima, they told us that we’d probably never even get off the ship, because we were a reserve division. The other two divisions had roughly 20,000 people in each, making 40,000 Marines that were going to be on that wee, little island. So they had no idea they would ever need us.
“After they lost something like 5,000 on the first day, they decided they were going to have more people.
“One of the reasons that Iwo was so terrible was the Japanese had airfields there that they had built, and the airfields had been protected by reinforced concrete pillboxes. And they had used a lot of steel in those so that bombs could not break them up. They had piled a lot of sand on each top so that when the bomb hit, or the artillery hit or whatever, it’d blow a lot of sand in a lot of directions, but it didn’t do much for the pillbox.
“So the pillboxes had us stalled. And as we were trying to get across that airfield, we were losing Marines very rapidly. And, sometimes, even commanding officers get desperate. So, losing men rapidly, he asked me if I thought I could do anything about those pillboxes that were out there.
“Somebody in my unit said that I said, ‘I’ll try.’
“Now maybe I did say that. (Sounds like me, you know?) But I don’t know whether I said that or not.
“But anyway, he assigned me four rifle people, and they were to give me protection while I was out there trying to knock out some of those pillboxes.
“I hadn’t been out there very long. And as I have said many, many times, it’s almost like a dream – like it’s really not real.
“Two of those men – the automatic riflemen – of course, were like me. They were good targets. If a guy is shooting with an automatic weapon, the enemy would like to get him first.
THE ACTION: “In the early part of the four hours that I was trying to do this job, I lost them. But the other two guys, they kept working with me. And one of them, particularly, he kept pretty close to me to try to keep these Japanese off of me. And one of the pillboxes I’d been trying to reach, I saw where they had been firing their weapons.
“They didn’t have any smokeless ammunition. Ours wasn’t total, but it was better than theirs. So smoke was curling up out of the top of it, and I sort of figured they had a breathing hole up there, or something. So I crawled around to the side where they couldn’t see me, because one side of the pillbox was solid and got up on top. And they had an air vent pipe up there, and it was just the right size that my flamethrower nozzle fit down in it.
“So I was ready to fire. And they knew that, I guess, because they came charging out of that pillbox… I don’t know… Four or five of ’em. (I don’t know.) A bunch, anyway… with their weapons and bayonets… to get me. And I got them first.
“I was just reading recently that the flamethrower goes all the way back to the Roman Empire. They didn’t work quite like ours, but they had them. And they were just as vicious then as they are… or were, then. Its effectiveness was that once it hits its target, it burned all the oxygen out of the air… lungs collapsed… and people were gone.
“When I received the Medal of Honor, the day after President Truman presented it, I went into the office of the Commandant of the United States Marine Corps. And I can’t tell you which place I was more frightened: Standing before the President or facing the Commandant of the Marine Corps – because he was almost God in the Marine Corps.”
“It was a terrible, terrible weapon.
“Don’t ask me how I did it. I don’t know how I did it. But in four hours I knocked out seven of those things.
“Much of it I don’t remember. And I attribute that to fear. Absolutely.
“Once you got in behind the pillboxes, why, then, we had the advantage.
“So in getting those seven pillboxes out of the way, that – according to my citation – opened the lane that enabled us to go on through.
“He was also a Medal of Honor Recipient from Guadalcanal, so he knew what we were facing. But he said to me, as I stood there, very sternly: ‘That Medal does not belong to you,’ he said. ‘It belongs to all the Marines who did not get to come home. And don’t ever do anything that would tarnish that Medal.’
“The Medal represents what the country has always stood for: Sacrifice.
“The day I was born, on Oct. 2, 1923, I was handed a gem that is absolutely impossible to buy. That was my freedom. You can’t pay for it. There’s not enough money in the world. So this Medal – to me – stands for sacrifice. And service.”
ABOUT: Hershel Woodrow “Woody” Williams served in the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve during World War II. He was born in West Virginia, Oct. 2, 1923, and was presented the Medal of Honor on Oct. 5, 1945. g
RALPH PUCKETT, JR.
U.S. Army • First Lieutenant • (Highest Rank: Colonel) Korean War • Hill 205, near Unsan • Nov. 25-26, 1950
SUMMARY: “As his unit commenced a daylight attack on Hill 205, the enemy directed mortar, machine gun, and small arms fire against the advancing force. To obtain supporting fire, First Lieutenant Puckett mounted the closest tank, exposing himself to the deadly enemy fire. Leaping from the tank, he shouted words of encouragement to his men and began to lead the Rangers in the attack.”
PRESENTATION DATE: May 21, 2021, The White House, presented by President Joseph R. Biden, Jr.
IN HIS OWN WORDS: Ralph Puckett, Jr.
“…I really wanted to have the same characteristic as my Dad; I really thought he was great. At age 14, I’d done a lot of hard, physical work as a truck driver and a warehouseman, not ’cause my folks were poor or something. I just got a good job; I wanted it. I learned that I could withstand some tough work. I learned that there are a lot of men out there who never had the advantages that I had – that was good or better than I am. I learned that, and I knew there was a lot of good in a lot of people if you get it out of them.”
Ralph Puckett, Jr., was born in 1926 in Tifton, Georgia, at the time a Southern agricultural town, with a population around 3,000. At 17, he joined the Army Enlisted Reserve Corps, but was discharged a few years later to attend the United States Military Academy at West Point. After graduating from West Point in 1949, Puckett was sent to Japan in preparation for the Korean War. Before arriving in Korea, he was offered a unique opportunity. The Army was looking to reactivate the Rangers, an elite fighting force that had been deactivated after World War II.
“I was on my way to Korea, shortly after the war had started, and as I was about to load up on a ship to go across the channel into Korea
from Japan, I was told over the PA system to report to such and such a room at headquarters. I went there and reported to a very senior-looking Colonel, and he said, ‘I’m searching for volunteers for a Ranger company we’re going to form.’
“I said, ‘Sir, I’d like to be in that Ranger company; I will take any position.’ And it was a big surprise when he told me to come back the next day, and I reported to him and he said, ‘I’ve decided to take you into the Ranger company, and you are going to be the company commander.’
“And I said, ‘Dear God, don’t let me get a bunch of good guys killed.’ I knew I was way over my head. And I knew it was a great risk for the Army to put that faith in me. I knew it was a great risk for my soldiers who were going to be Rangers.
“There are many things about them that were unusual. For one thing, they were non-infantry. They were service troops. They were way below the experience level of the positions that they were going to fill in the Ranger company. We went overnight into South Korea, landed there to a training site in the middle of a rice paddy and began our training.
“I tried to never let an error go un-pointed out, uncorrected. But I tried to give them a lot of praise for the good work that they’re doing. Remember, these guys, they weren’t infantry. They had six weeks of infantry training in my Ranger company.”
Despite predictions from leadership that the American forces would be home by Christmas of 1950, Puckett had his doubts.
“Christmas. That was about six weeks away. There’d been some tough fighting, some tough casualties, and it just didn’t sound like it was going to be easy or that we were going to be home in six weeks – or that we’d even be in Japan in six weeks. I knew there was a lot going on throughout Korea during the war, but I had just a small part, and that’s where my focus was.”
On Nov. 25, 1950, Puckett was given orders to capture and hold Hill 205 in support of an offensive along the Ch’ongch’on River. Leadership hoped that by overcoming the Korean People’s Army in a decisive attack, they would end the war within six weeks time.
“It’s a rugged mountain face, 205 meters high – not every high, but it was nothing special; it was just a hill in the defensive position for the Chinese that we had taken that morning, captured; it had been an assault force. We lost four Rangers along the way. We had about 20-25 Rangers reach the top of the hill that night. I knew it was defended by a Chinese force, but that’s all I knew. But I also learned that it was over a mile away from the closest U.S. Army ground force – so I knew ‘Ranger company is pretty much on its own tonight.’
After early success capturing the hill, Puckett’s men entered six waves of attacks over the next 24 hours as the Chinese army tried “I had a handful. We were in the 20s total number during the last hours of that battle. The Chinese were overcoming the Eighth Army along the entire front, so it was a tough situation. I had no idea what was going on any place else. All I could think about is this little spot right here. I’m this company commander of these 28 soldiers, Rangers. We gotta hold on.
THE ACTION: Puckett repeatedly exposed himself to enemy fire to help guide artillery support, often dangerously close to his own position. His courage and leadership as a source of inspiration to his men. Over the course of the battle, he was injured multiple times until he was finally left unable to move. During the final attack, Puckett ordered a withdrawal and instructed his men to leave him behind so they could safely flee the Chinese army.
“Billy G. Wallace and David L. Pollak, two PFCs who got chewed out a few days before for doing something they wasn’t supposed to, but those two guys risked their necks, come back on the hill. I told them to leave me behind because it was very dangerous for them. The Chinese were already coming across our hill. But they decided to drag me off under the cover of a couple of Rangers who followed them down the hill.
“I had started out that morning with about 50. We had 11 who got off the hill ready to fight the next morning.”
Before being medically evacuated, Puckett was able to direct a final concentration of artillery fire onto Hill 205 before the withdrawal of the Eighth Army. For his actions during the battle, he received the Distinguished Service Cross. Puckett’s wounds left him hospitalized for a year, during which time he met his future wife, Jean.
Puckett continued his service for 22 years: First, at the US. Army Ranger School and West Point—then later in Vietnam. Among his many honors, Puckett received a second Distinguished Service gCross, two Silver Stars, and several Purple Hearts. Puckett retired
as a Colonel in 1971 but continued his service as an honorary Colonel for the 75th Ranger company from 1996 until 2006.
In 2021, after 71 years, Puckett’s Distinguished Service Cross for the battle on Hill 205 was upgraded to the Medal of Honor. Here’s the official reason why: ‘He repeatedly abandoned positions of relative safety to make his way from foxhole-to-foxhole to check the company’s perimeter and to distribute ammunition amongst the Rangers. First Lieutenant Puckett’s extraordinary heroism and selflessness above and beyond the call of duty were in keeping with the highest traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon himself, his unit, and the United States Army.’ “Two of them carried me off the battlefield. They’re the ones who should get the credit. There was nothing ‘Ranger special’ in what we did in the defense of attacking and defending Hill 205: It was just pure infantry warfare. Close hand.
“We knew our jobs. That rifleman knows how to fire his weapon, keep it operating, how to look after himself, and how to look after that buddy in the foxhole with him.
“The fundamental principle that I’ve come up with is: ‘Be there.’ When the going gets tough, whether it’s cold weather, rainy weather, somebody shooting at you, hot, going without food, whatever it is: ‘Be there.’
“I was surprised,” Puckett said. “I felt that that sort of excitement should come early in a person’s career. Here I am 94 years old. So I was surprised at that. But I mainly thought there’s about 50 Rangers in the past that have really done an outstanding job and taken themselves from non-combat, basic armed soldiers, into being some of the best that our country has ever produced. But I certainly felt that my Rangers deserved recognition and that kind of award for what they had done. They did the work. They did the fighting. “We had to depend on ourselves. Each soldier had to know, ‘I know my job, I know how to look after the man next to me, and he’s going to take care of me. We did what we’d been trained to do, nothing spectacular, nothing brilliant.’ Most soldiers will know anyway, ‘He didn’t do that by himself.’ And I say that I hardly did it at all. “
ABOUT: Ralph Puckett, Jr., served in the U.S. Army during the Korean War. He was born in Georgia on Dec. 6, 1926, and presented with the Medal of Honor on May 21, 2021. g
HARVEY CURTISS “BARNEY” BARNUM, JR.
U.S. Marine Corps • First Lieutenant • (Highest Rank: Colonel) Vietnam War • Quang Tin Province • Dec. 18, 1965
SUMMARY: “Finding the rifle company commander mortally wounded and the radio operator killed, he, with complete disregard for his safety, gave aid to the dying commander, then removed the radio from the dead operator and strapped it to himself. He immediately assumed command of the rifle company…”
PRESENTATION DATE: Feb. 27, 1967, Marine Barracks, Washington, D.C., presented by Secretary of the Navy Paul H. Nitze
IN HIS OWN WORDS: Harvey Curtiss “Barney” Barnum, Jr.
“On career day in my senior year, you know, all the services come to your high school. And I’ll never forget that day. The Air Force recruiter got up and gave his pitch, and there were catcalls, and hoots and hollers, and the Army and the Navy, the same things. And the Marine gunny recruiter got up and said, ‘There’s no one in this room that I want in my Marine Corps. Undisciplined. Unmotivated.’ Then he began to chew out the faculty in the back of the room, telling them, ‘How can you let this happen?’ and all.
“And he walked off the stage.
“Well, needless to say, I was one of the guys that lined up at his desk, and I joined the Marine Corps at that time. I joined the platoon leaders class. And then I, of course, went in the officer program when I got into college. But he epitomized what I thought the military was all about. He stood up and took charge and made a big impression on this young 18-year-old.” g
Connecticut Native Harvey Barnum joined the Marine Corps Platoon Leaders Class after high school. Upon completion of college, he was commissioned as a Marine Reserve 2nd Lieutenant. After serving various tours abroad, and being promoted to 1st Lieutenant, Barnum was sent to Vietnam in 1965. On the morning of Dec. 18, Barnum’s company was coming down out of the mountains in Quang Tin Province, just south of Da Nang, as the rear element of a battalion-sized movement.
“And as we were coming down through this mountain, I heard some shooting up forward but didn’t think much of it. And just as our company commander was walking across a dike, the North Vietnamese … they triggered an ambush, and they were smart. They were well-trained, they were well dug-in. They let three companies go by – and in through – this village before they trigged the ambush. And when they triggered the ambush on our rear element, they triggered the ambush on the units in the village, also. They had done their homework.
“The initial rounds hit the company commander and his radio operator. And needless to say, it’s the first time I’d been shot at. And I was very prudent. I hit the deck. But when I looked up, and I looked from underneath my helmet and looked around, I could see all these young Marines’ eyes looking at me. And they’re saying, ‘Okay, Lieutenant, what the hell are we gonna do?’ So at that point I started giving direction. And first thing I did was get on the net and call artillery.
“So anyway, I see my scout sergeant run by me to go out and protect the company commander. He got shot a couple times as he was going out there. And he set up a base of fire; there was a trench line to our right that we were taking intensive direct machine gun fire from. And then I see the corpsman, Doc West, go running out. Doc West got shot two or three times before he got to the company commander. So now I’ve got the company commander down, the radio operator down, my scout sergeant’s down, and the chief corpsman is down.
“So I ran out and picked up Captain Gormley and brought him back into a more covered position. He was hit pretty bad, but he was alive. We talked, and he died in my arms. And then I ran out and helped the corpsman back, Doc West.
“Someone else had gone out to help McGlain back, my scout sergeant.”
THE ACTION: “And then I realized that the company commander just died, and the radio was out there. So I ran out, took the radio off the dead operator, carried it back, strapped it to myself. Got on the phone, called the battalion commander, told him what had happened, and that I was assuming command of the company. And he said, ‘Young man, it sounds like you have a grasp of the situation. Make sure everyone knows you’re the skipper.’
“And so I assumed command of that company, I started giving direction. It’s amazing – at that point I found out that these young Marines who were pinned down, and scared, all they wanted was someone to give them direction. And when I started doing things, they got motivation going.
“So at that point, I launched a counterattack on that trench line to our right, and that was very successful. And then flying above us was also the task force commander. I heard him say ‘I’ll get some Huey gun support in here.’ Well, I went up on this knoll, and I fired 3.5-inch rocket rounds at the targets, at machine guns, at trench lines, and the Hueys would come in, and they’d hit where I hit.
“Well, then, I ran out of 3.5-inch rocket rounds. And so I was talking to the pilots, and I said, ‘Okay, fly down the axis of my arms,’ And I stood up there with my arms out, and I pointed at the targets, and they flew down the axis of my arms to the target. And we took out or knocked down the fire on our right flank so we could move around more.
“And then we had the enemy behind us. And we were fighting them off, and we were fighting the enemy on our left flank. And we had about 500 meters of open rice paddies between us and the battalion, which was in the village. And the battalion commander finally got on the hook, and he said, ‘Lieutenant, you’ve gotta come on out. We can’t come get you. We’re in our own fire-fight in here. Can’t come out and get you. It’s getting dark.’ And he says, ‘If you don’t fight your way out, you’re there by gyourself tonight.’
“Well, I knew that was a non-starter. Casualties were mounting rapidly. Ammunition was getting low. And the ceiling was closing in on us. And I didn’t think our chances were gonna be very good if we stayed there. So I had the engineers blow some trees down to make it a landing zone. And I brought in H-34 helicopters to take out the dead and the wounded.
“Doc West had been shot five or six times, and he would not let us evacuate him. He was still giving instructions. He was on morphine, but he would not let us evacuate him. He was still giving us instructions on how to handle the other cases that were serious. And he was the last one he would let me put on a helicopter. So we put him on a helicopter. He got shot for the seventh time, but he lived.
“So I got the dead and the wounded out. And I knew that we had to go across that open, fire-swept ground. And it’s near the end of the operation. People are tired and they’ve had just one hell of a day.
“So I had the engineers… we collected all the useable equipment that wasn’t working: radios, machine guns, whatever, and blew it up to make ourselves light. And then I had everyone drop their packs in a pile, and we burned ’em. And so to make ourselves light, and I told everybody, ‘When we start out of here, Marines don’t leave anybody on the battlefield. Someone drops, you pick him up,’ and bring him with you. So that’s the reason I made you light.’
“Then I was thinking back to the old training, fire-team rushes – we’re gonna go across, you know, by the book. If I started this with the first platoon, you know. Moving across. Well, it was getting… we’d never have gotten across.
“They set up a base of fire in the village. And then I got on the phone. I said, “Are you ready in the village? ‘Ready?’ And squadby-squad, when I said ‘Go,’ they ran. I said, ‘You run as fast as you can. Don’t even stop. The only time you stop is if someone gets shot, and you pick him up.’
“So for the next 45 minutes, we broke out and we made it across there. Brought everybody out.
“It took us another day and a half to get back, and when I got back, I was relieved of that company, and an infantry officer took over the company. And I stopped in the mess tent to get a cup of coffee. And the battery commander came in and he says, ‘We
got the call last night that General Walsh recommended you for the Medal of Honor.’
“I dropped the coffee cup… I dropped the coffee cup! You know? And I mean, I was just… I was pretty happy to be alive.
“Most Recipients are presented the Medal of Honor at the White House. The White House – under Johnson – at that point did not want to present the Medal. They figured it was the wrong time politically. And I was presented it at a Marine ceremony at Marine barracks, Eighth and ‘I’ – Washington, D.C. It was on the 27th of February 1967. And it was a complete Marine show from the get-go. And Secretary of the Navy Paul Nitze, he put the Medal around my neck. In the presence of my family and college friends and some of those who fought in Vietnam with me.
“We came together as a team that day. We overcame about 10-to-one odds.
“You know it’s like on Monday, after the Super Bowl Sunday: Whose name do you see in the paper? The quarterback. You don’t see the lineman’s name.
“So I’ve worn this for 38 years now – oh my gosh, 38 years… in honor of those corpsmen and young Marines that I had the opportunity to lead on the field of battle that day. And any time I put this Medal on, I think of them – and any actions that I do or decision I make, I make in their name.
ABOUT: Harvey Curtiss Barnum, Jr., served in the United States Marine Corps in Vietnam. He was born in Connecticut, on July 21, 1940, and was presented the Medal of Honor on Feb. 27, 1967.
SALVATORE A. GIUNTA
(FIRST LIVING RECIPIENT INVOLVED IN THE WAR ON TERRORISM) U.S. Army • Specialist • (Highest Rank: Staff Sergeant) War on Terrorism • Afghanistan • Oct. 25, 2007
SUMMARY: “While under heavy enemy fire, Specialist Giunta immediately sprinted towards cover and engaged the enemy. Seeing that his squad leader had fallen and believing that he had been injured, Specialist Giunta exposed himself to withering enemy fire and raced towards his squad leader, helped him to cover, and administered medical aid.”
PRESENTATION DATE: Nov. 16, 2010, The White House, presented by President Barack Obama
IN HIS OWN WORDS: Salvatore Augustine Giunta
“I grew up in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I am the oldest of three children. It was the mid-west, middle-class, sunshine, rainbows, green grass, you-don’t-have-to-lock-the door kind of neighborhood. That was where I grew up in Iowa. I was about to graduate high school, and I heard a radio commercial come on. It said, ‘Come on down, see the recruiter, get a free T-shirt.’
“Who doesn’t want a free T-shirt? I’m working at Subway, I want a free T-shirt. (Of course I want a T-shirt.) So I went down, and I talked to a recruiter. And kind of the things he said started making sense, you know? We’re a country at war. (This is 2003, we just jumped into Iraq.) We’ve been in Afghanistan since 2001. This is my chance. I can make a difference—if this is what I want to do. And I can do it everywhere, but not in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.
My great-grandparents came over from Italy in 1904. No one that I know of in my immediate family served in any sort of a military. This is my chance to say, ‘The Giuntas are going to go serve. I’m ggoing to do it.’
Salvatore Giunta enlisted in the U.S. Army in November of 2003. After excelling in basic training and infantry school, he was deployed to Afghanistan in 2005 and again in 2007. The second tour would station him at a remote fire-base in the deadly Korengal Valley.
“I remember being so excited to go. I wasn’t just excited, I was ready. ‘I’m going to go there and kick in doors and solve this—we’ll wrap it up. We’ll go home, we’ll drink some beers, and say, ‘You know what? I served in the United States Army.’ I’m proud of that every day.
“And within three months of being in the country, an IED took out a truck and killed four. The gunner lost both of his legs. These are people in the prime of their life … they will never be stronger than they were that day … to no longer have a tomorrow. That was when I truly felt that I was in the Army.
“My second deployment was in the Korengal Valley. It was like nothing that I had ever seen in Afghanistan before. We were at the bottom of the valley with mountains just sheer straight-up and -down on every single side. And every single place you’re going to fight, you are at the bottom. And there’s no spot you get to choose, because you don’t get to choose the spot; they get to choose the spot. So, Operation Rock Avalanche, when it took place, we had no idea. Well, we had intel. And the intel was, ‘Lots of bad guys.’ That’s what we came here to do.
“The first day we got in some contact a couple of times each day. Usually small arms, RPGs. There were some bad guys who shot at us, and we dropped some mortars and other things. Apparently there were a lot of people that they deemed innocent that died. And they were not happy.
“We came to help, but now we pissed off everyone. And we’re still, other than our little areas that we’ve been watching the last (you know) day and a half … we don’t know what’s outside of this.
“We left where we were and headed to another village. It’s probably only maybe another three kilometers, and we set up for doing listening posts. We’re going in, engaging villages saying, ‘Hey, you know, what do you need? What would make your life better? Let’s talk.’
“I was a team leader, so I have a radio, so I can click over, and I can hear what’s going on with the other guys. And we started hearing on the radio … chaos.
“Shooting doesn’t make chaos. To hear chaos from people who had been doing this was strange.
“We started hearing, ‘They’re missing people. They’re missing things. There’s KIA. We have Americans killed.’ “We just stayed, waiting and listening to a million bad things happening to our brothers a kilometer away.
“You’ve never been more ready than we were right there, and we couldn’t do anything.
“They overran a scout team position. They overran a gun team. The second platoon was going to go into the village, and then we were going to be on one of the side peaks, over watching the village, so if anyone started coming from the outside to come and attack them in the village, we already have the high ground above them. And we sat there 12 hours. Fourteen hours. Just watching and waiting, and nothing happened.
“The commander said, ‘We’re going to pull out. We’re going back.’ Because it was probably a two-and-a-half hour walk.
“The sun was down, but the moon was big. And that moon really does make a huge amount of difference in what you can and can’t see.
“There was Sergeant Brennan, SPC Eckrode, squad leader Staff Sergeant Gallardo, myself … Casey was my saw gunner and then Clary was my 203 gunner. We went about 200 meters from where we sat. And that was when I … I’ve never seen anything—before or since—anything like what happened.
“The tracers come usually as one tracer, four balls. So, every time you see one that glows, there’s four somewhere in between there … and absolutely everything (every single inch of the air in front of us, behind us) was filled with tracers. Thousands of bullets in the air, going both ways at this point. I think within the first five seconds, pretty much everyone had been shot somewhere.
“Casey and Clary were behind me, and Casey had the 249 squad automatic weapon, the saw … which can shoot about a thousand bullets per minute. Clary was shooting his 2003, which shoots a 40-millimeter grenade. The guys were so close that the grenade … he was just making a lot of booms. But it wasn’t on them, but he was doing exactly … that was a good thing for him to be doing.”
THE ACTION: “And so I looked towards my leader, Sergeant Gallardo, and I saw Gallardo coming back, and I just saw his head twitch. And it wasn’t like a ‘What was that?’ twitch. It was like ‘something just hit his head’ twitch. And he dropped. So, I just ran out, and I grabbed him. He was kind of flipped over on his back, but he was OK. So I grabbed him, and was pulling him, and he was jumping up, and we got back. And I went to a little bit of defilade. It maybe gave us 6-8 inches of relief in the ground.
“We were both there, and when that happened, I got hit.
“Gallado is here, and I’m here, and they’re shooting at us from here, and I just got hit over here—which the people over here can’t shoot over here. That is a very serious thing to figure out incredibly quick … ‘Why that bullet came from over here.’ “They set up in an L-shape, which, if we were to do it, we would do it exactly like that. We were trained from day one in basic training (it was a battle drill) that when you’re ambushed—‘What do you do when an ambush happens?’ Well, you charge the line. You’re gonna win or lose on that. But you’re gonna win or lose where you’re at, and if you’re staying where you’re at, you’re probably going to lose.
“We threw grenades, and we ran forward.
“Eckrode was on the ground and said he’d been shot. Brennan said he was shot as well, and he’s somewhere up ahead. I can hear this as I’m running, and Gallardo went for Eckrode. I trust Gallardo. There were no more grenades, and I was already running forward so the point was to stop, and Gallardo had Eckrode, and Casey and Clary were doing everything they could. They were keeping their heads down. And when I ran up, I couldn’t find Brennan, where he should have been.
“This part haunts my dreams.
“I came out, and there were two guys carrying one.
“It’s crazy. I don’t know how anyone else got there before me. I mean this all happened (snapping his fingers) like this
“As I got a bit closer, I realized what was going on.
“I deployed with Brennan the year before; we were in Afghanistan for three years, so I had been with Brennan for maybe four years. He was smarter than me, stronger than me, and he was smaller than me, too. But he was faster than me; he was a better shot than me. And that’s who’s getting carried away.
Giunta immediately charged through the persistent enemy fire toward the two insurgents carrying Joshua Brennan. He killed one and wounded the other. Then he carried Brennan to a position of relative safety until medevac helicopters could arrive.
“You don’t find out if you did the right thing or wrong thing until later. And sometimes, maybe if you did the wrong thing, maybe you don’t ever find out.
“Gallardo, my squad leader, came up, and he said, ‘I was talking to Captain Kearny. He said you’re going to get put in for a Medal of Honor.’
“I said a lot of things, none of which were very happy or should be told now.
“Mendoza had died, and Brennan had died. The other guys were going to be OK. They were all in surgery or getting some bullets out. They’re going to congratulate me? They’re going to pat me on the back, and say ‘Thanks’?
“Stupid.
“The day at the White House—when the President put it around my neck—in the front row I had my family; I had my wife and my Mom and Dad and brother and sister. In the second row, I had some aunts and uncles. But the row behind my family was Brennan’s family, and next to them was Mendoza’s family. And as I felt this light silk ribbon go around my neck, I felt the weight of the sacrifices of those two men and the sacrifices of several of the people in that audience.
“No one did anything special. Every single one of us was fighting for our absolute life. If I didn’t do that, what was my other option? Congratulate and pat me on the back, and everybody thinks I’m such a great guy—when there are people who will never get a congratulations, a ‘Thank you,’ or ‘You’re the man’ ever gain—or see their family: Their mother, their father, their children. And yet, you’re going to congratulate me.
“I am the keeper of it. It stays at my house at night. Put it around my neck when I need to. But this is not mine. This is not for me. This represents so much more. This represents not just my voice, not just Brennan, not just Mendoza, not Rugal, who died the day before, not all the guys who have been wounded, not all the people that suffered. Not the families that will pay the price for this country. It’s not for any one of those people; it’s for all of those people. And if I’ve gotta do it, I’m going to do it for them. And there’s nothing they wouldn’t do for me, so how could I not do this for them?”
ABOUT: Salvatore Augustine Giunta served in the U.S. Army in Afghanistan during the War on Terrorism. He was born Jan. 21, 1985, in Iowa, and was presented the Medal of Honor on Nov. 16, 2010. g
WILLIAM KYLE CARPENTER
(YOUNGEST LIVING RECIPIENT)
U.S. Marine Corps • Lance Corporal War on Terrorism • Afghanistan • Nov. 21, 2010
SUMMARY: “By his undaunted courage, bold fighting spirit, and unwavering devotion to duty in the face of almost certain death, Lance Corporal Carpenter reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service.”
PRESENTATION DATE: June 19, 2014, The White House, presented by President Barack Obama
IN HIS OWN WORDS: William Kyle Carpenter
“I was born in Jackson, Mississippi. I have two younger brothers.
“My family’s amazing. They’re very supportive, and I’ve been very fortunate to have just an amazing support system.
“I played football all growing up. I really worked hard. That transitioned into middle school and then eventually high school football. Later on in high school I decided to join the military. I wanted to serve a purpose bigger than myself. I didn’t want to wake up one day and regret not serving when I had the opportunity.
“I was with Second Battalion, Ninth Marines, out of Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. I was aware in 2009 when I joined of what’s at stake. I did know we were in a time of two wars, but my mindset was, there’s absolutely nothing that is going to stop me from becoming a Marine and serving my country.
“We worked very, very hard. And we got not only physically ready, but mentally ready. And we deployed late July of 2010 to Marjah, Afghanistan in Helmand Province.
“It was very hot. Very rugged, tough terrain to not only navigate, but to operate in. Flooded farmlands, flooded fields, wading through sewage canals to avoid IEDs.
“It was a difficult deployment. There was a lot of fighting every single day, sun-up, to sun-down.
“My platoon got tasked with pushing south, into another village, so we could start setting up a new patrol base to operate out of. This was one of the last enemy strongholds of our area of operation.
“We pushed down, and we took over the new patrol base, and very shortly after we had moved it came the first grenade attack. And we had two Marines and an Afghan National Army member get injured in that.
“We had never seen grenades from close range up until that point in our deployment. “
BEFORE THE ACTION: On Nov. 21, 2010, the day following the grenade attack, Lance Corporal Kyle Carpenter and fellow Marine Nick Eufrazio were posted to a rooftop security position on the perimeter of the village. With sandbags in short supply, the two had little cover as they occupied a low-lying bunker.
“I remember us going over the scenarios of if a grenade was thrown up there or if we started taking fire from this direction how we would react.
“Nick Eufrazio is an amazing Marine, and I credit him with saving—just saving—so many lives while we were over there. Nick was always the one up front. And he was very aware of our surroundings. And I never went on a patrol without him, and he never went on a patrol without me.”
THE ACTION: Even as the two Marines continued to watch over the area, the enemy drew closer. A grenade was lofted onto the rooftop landing near Carpenter and Eufrazio. The trauma from the blast erased his immediate memories of the event, but forensic review of the explosion revealed that Carpenter covered the grenade absorbing the blast with the right side of his body. Nick Eufrazio suffered injuries but survived the attack.
“After the grenade and the explosion had happened, I remember trying to push myself up and, I guess, shake it off. And I couldn’t feel either one of my arms.
‘The next thing I thought of was my family. And how devastated they were going to be that I was not going to survive and make it home from Afghanistan—and then I went unconscious.
“After I was injured, my fellow Marines—and my Navy Corpsman that was there with me—did an amazing job to get me as quickly as they could on the roof, and they fought very hard to keep me alive for that medical evacuation helicopter to arrive.
“As I was going unconscious I kept telling them, ‘I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die,’ and they just kept getting on my nerves and coming back with, ‘You’re gonna make it, you’re gonna survive.’
“When I arrived at the first combat trauma Role 3 Hospital, I was labeled PEA which is ‘patient expired on arrival.’ I had to be resuscitated multiple times. “I arrived at Walter Reed, Nov. 28, 2010, and I spent almost three years there. I had injuries to both my eyes; I lost my right eye. And I had penetrating shrapnel that had to be removed from my brain. The majority of my teeth were blown out from the blast. I had lacerations to three of the arteries in my neck. I had 30 fractures in my right arm. They were going to amputate, but they thought that they might be able to save it.
“An amazing doctor, Dr. Noonan, saved my arm and did a great job, like all the doctors at Walter Reed.
“It took me roughly five weeks to wake up, and to start regaining consciousness. First thing that I really remember was that my Mom had decorated my room in the holiday spirit, and I remember opening my eye and seeing a Christmas stocking on my hospital room wall.
“First and foremost, I tried to stay strong and motivated for my family.
“I set little goals for myself; I first wanted to sit up in the bed for say, 10 minutes, and then 20 minutes.
“I just had an amazing medical team behind me, and they really helped me to get to where I am today.
“Fast forward a few years and about 40 surgeries, and a lot of therapy later, and I ran my first marathon.
“I think you just feel a better sense of yourself that you really pushed through something and you face adversity, and have a perspective and an appreciation for life that sometimes can only be obtained through very difficult or trying, hard circumstances. …
“I know that if 100 Marines were put in that position, they would have done the same thing for me. I saw altruistic sacrifice from my fellow Marines every single day for four months.
“It’s a difficult Medal to wear … because of what comes with it. It represents our country, our history. Those that have given life and limb. The Medal represents sacrifice, not only from a military perspective but in civilian life.
“From the smallest to the biggest thing, we’re all presented with opportunities, and whether you’re in the military or right here on the streets of Columbia, South Carolina as a civilian, everybody should serve.
“Without service and sacrifice, we would not have the nation we do today.”
ABOUT: William Kyle Carpenter served in the U.S. Marine Corps in Afghanistan during the War on Terrorism. He was born Oct 17, 1989, and presented the Medal of Honor on June 19, 2014.
