Not all heroes are decorated and not all heroes who are decorated are without fear

Vietnam

I WAS THE leader of my youngest son's Cub Scout Den. During the last of four years, I had to prepare them to become Boy Scouts. They had to learn the Scout Promise, Motto, and Laws. They learned the meaning of “thrifty,” “clean,” and “reverent.” My assignment to head up the Awards & Decorations Branch of the 9th Infantry Division's Adjutant General's Office during the second half of my tour of duty in Vietnam, uniquely qualified me to help them understand the Boy Scout admonition to be “brave.”

Medal of Honor

Like most people, including adults, they equated bravery with a lack of fear. However, after telling them a few stories they began to reach a different conclusion. I told them about Audie Murphy, the most decorated combat veteran of World War II. Some say that he listened in bewilderment as a citation of his heroism was read. It seems that he had lapsed into a fugue state on at least one occasion when he acted above and beyond the call of duty. All fear was lost, and he attacked like an automaton. After listening to several stories such as this, the boys began to see that a person may perform seemingly heroic deeds without a sense of fear. They then pondered if that was truly brave. It was a short leap from there to the conclusion that bravery or courage is “doing what is right or required in spite of the fear of the consequences.” This is the lesson that I wanted them to learn. It was the same one that I learned in Vietnam. 

The commanding general of a U.S. infantry division is authorized to award any decoration up to and including the Silver Star, which he occasionally did in the afterglow of a major battle. We would follow up with the appropriate orders and citation to memorialize the award. In most cases, recommendations for decorations came from field commanders, and I convened a board of officers about once each week to review them on behalf of the division commander. I was given a roster of officers who had been assigned to the Awards & Decorations Review Board, and called three to sit on each week's panel. I generally selected one senior officer, lieutenant colonel or colonel, to chair the board, and two lower grade officers, captain or major, to fill it out.

Silver Star

Generally, I gave them the date, time, and place, and they dutifully showed up. The first time, however, I called the 9th Infantry Division Provost Marshall, a full colonel, to chair the board, he listened to my summons and asked, “Am I the senior officer on the board?” When I replied that he was, he informed me that he would tell me the date, time, and place of the meeting and hung up. I waited a few heart beats and called him back to ask when and where he wanted to convene the board. He asked for the time and place I had called with. After I repeated the information, he said that would be fine and hung up again. We had a delightful relationship following that first encounter. I always respected officers who wore their mantle of authority well, and effectively destroyed any hope of a career in the Army by disrespecting those superior to me who I had to bully to get anything done.

The Awards & Decorations board rarely disappointed me with their decisions. However, there was one that drove me to discard their votes and have them recast by another panel. A medic was cited by his unit commander for having rushed headlong to save a fallen comrade despite a hail of gunfire directed on him from a Viet Cong ambush. The victim was the point man of an American patrol who had sprung the ambush before his comrades entered the killing zone. As he fell, all of the Americans went to ground except for the medic. He rushed forward and covered the fallen man with his own body until the enemy was driven back, and then provided life-saving aid. He was recommended by the unit commander for an award of the Silver Star. The Awards & Decorations board were inclined to grant the award until I read the closing line of the recommendation; the medic was a conscientious objector. Personally, I found it noble that he served in combat even though his status could have shielded him from being drafted into the Armed Services. The panel of officers that day voted unanimously to reduce his award to a Bronze Star with “V” device signifying valor. I discarded their recommendation and the medic was ultimately awarded the Silver Star that he, in my opinion, deserved.

My most humbling duty was investigating and memorializing recommendations for the Medal of Honor. I was honored to work on four. I will probably create separate postings for each at some future date. However, I cannot leave this posting without providing some insight into the care taken by the Armed Services to insure the validity of an award of its highest honor.

Bronze Star with "V" for Valor

I bound each recommendation for award of the Medal of Honor in a three inch loose-leaf binder approximately three inches thick. It was divided into several sections including a detailed description of the action being cited, witness statements, intelligence assessments of enemy strengths and deployments, operational orders, weather reports, and everything else that I could provide that would help a panel of senior officers, located in a Washington, D.C. office, truly understand and appreciate the danger to which the individual had exposed himself and the significance of his accomplishment as well as the consequences of his possible failure. Common wisdom dictated that no one could be awarded the Medal of Honor if they had not been seriously wounded if not killed. However, in one instance, the recommendation succeeded despite the fact that two individuals had succeeded in destroying several enemy bunkers and routing a Viet Cong company-sized force of nearly two hundred men, and escaped unscathed. Both men were awarded the Silver Star within moments of the end of the battle, and reassigned to division headquarters to await their DEROS (return home from the combat theater). Interestingly, both made terrible garrison troopers suggesting that true heroes are not as suited to the parade ground.