Marines rushing into combat count on the corpsman to come to their aid if they’re hit. Here’s what the sailors do after the call of, “Corpsman up!”
1. To start, corpsmen rush to the casualty
Once the Marines have fire superiority and call for medical aid, the corpsman quickly moves to the stricken Marine. They can begin care there, but they’ll establish a casualty collection point if the original area isn’t secure or there are casualties in multiple locations.
2. Assess the injuries
A Marine assesses simulated injuries during a training exercise. Photo: US Marine Corps Sgt. Aaron Rooks
The corpsman immediately begins assessing the casualty. During the assessment phase, injuries are identified and the corpsman begins ranking them, preparing to treat the worst wounds first. Any injuries that are immediately life-threatening such as a major bleed are treated as soon as they are identified.
If more than one Marines is injured, the corpsman will triage them at this time, deciding which wounds to treat on which patient in what order.
3. Begin interventions
Once the injuries have been identified and ranked, the corpsman begins treating the injuries one at a time. Bleeding is treated with pressure bandages and tourniquets. Airways can be protected with nasopharyngeal airways, a rubber tube pushed into the injured Marine’s nose. Blood circulation is monitored to prevent the patient descending into shock.
4. Prepare for Medevac
Once the patient is stable enough for transport, it’s time to get them off the battlefield. The patient is loaded onto a litter and the corpsman coordinates the evacuation. Depending on available assets, the patient can be taken off the battlefield in a helicopter, ground ambulance, or a Humvee.
5. Get the casualty on the ambulance or casevac vehicle
The corpsman will move with the casualty to the evacuation point and hand them over to the medic or corpsman assigned to the ambulance. When possible, the ambulance will give the corpsman on the ground a new aid bag to replace items used on the patient, ensuring they will have necessary supplies to treat future casualties.
6. Resume the mission
Unless absolutely necessary, the corpsman will stay with the Marines in the field and return to patrolling. They’ll pull security, treat minor ailments, and wait for the next call of “Corpsman, up!”
Check out the video of a Medevac crew rushing to evacuate a casualty.
Joe Hooper had two U.S. military careers. He first enlisted in the Navy in 1956 but after just shy of three years, he found himself a civilian once again. It’s not that he was bad at his job or was a bad sailor — the Navy just wasn’t the career path for him.
Six months later, he was back in the military. This time, he chose the United States Army. It was a choice that would completely change the rest of his life. He found himself training to become a paratrooper, serving first with the 82nd Airborne and later the 101st Airborne. Within three years, Hooper was an NCO.
But all was not perfect. He faced a number of Article 15 hearings related to disciplinary issues. By 1967 he had been demoted to Corporal and promoted to Sergeant once more. His promotion came just in time to deploy to Vietnam, where he would spend the first months of 1968 – meaning he was in country for the Tet Offensive.
The Tet Offensive and the subsequent effort to recapture the ground the communists captured would take the first few months of 1968 in some places. One of those areas was the old imperial capital of Hue. It was during the Battle of Hue that Joe Hooper earned his Medal of Honor – and the insane citation reads like the plot summary of the greatest Hollywood action movie of all time:
“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. Staff Sergeant (then Sgt.) Hooper, U.S. Army, distinguished himself while serving as squad leader with Company D.
“Company D was assaulting a heavily defended enemy position along a river bank when it encountered a withering hail of fire from rockets, machine guns and automatic weapons. S/Sgt. Hooper rallied several men and stormed across the river, overrunning several bunkers on the opposite shore. Thus inspired, the rest of the company moved to the attack.
“With utter disregard for his own safety, he moved out under the intense fire again and pulled back the wounded, moving them to safety. During this act, S/Sgt. Hooper was seriously wounded, but he refused medical aid and returned to his men. With the relentless enemy fire disrupting the attack, he single-handedly stormed 3 enemy bunkers, destroying them with hand grenade and rifle fire, and shot 2 enemy soldiers who had attacked and wounded the Chaplain.
“Leading his men forward in a sweep of the area, S/Sgt. Hooper destroyed 3 buildings housing enemy riflemen. At this point he was attacked by a North Vietnamese officer whom he fatally wounded with his bayonet. Finding his men under heavy fire from a house to the front, he proceeded alone to the building, killing its occupants with rifle fire and grenades.
“By now his initial body wound had been compounded by grenade fragments, yet despite the multiple wounds and loss of blood, he continued to lead his men against the intense enemy fire.
“As his squad reached the final line of enemy resistance, it received devastating fire from 4 bunkers in line on its left flank. S/Sgt. Hooper gathered several hand grenades and raced down a small trench which ran the length of the bunker line, tossing grenades into each bunker as he passed by, killing all but 2 of the occupants.
“With these positions destroyed, he concentrated on the last bunkers facing his men, destroying the first with an incendiary grenade and neutralizing 2 more by rifle fire. He then raced across an open field, still under enemy fire, to rescue a wounded man who was trapped in a trench. Upon reaching the man, he was faced by an armed enemy soldier whom he killed with a pistol. Moving his comrade to safety and returning to his men, he neutralized the final pocket of enemy resistance by fatally wounding 3 North Vietnamese officers with rifle fire.
“S/Sgt. Hooper then established a final line and reorganized his men, not accepting treatment until this was accomplished and not consenting to evacuation until the following morning. His supreme valor, inspiring leadership and heroic self-sacrifice were directly responsible for the company’s success and provided a lasting example in personal courage for every man on the field. S/Sgt. Hooper’s actions were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself and the U.S. Army.”
Jacob Parrott was a U.S. soldier who participated in the legendary Civil War mission popularly known as the Great Locomotive Race. His bravery as a member of the Union crew that stole a Confederate train led to recognition as the nation’s first Medal of Honor recipient.
Prior to the Civil War, the democratic peoples of the United States resisted the very idea of military medals. Americans connected a chest covered in fruit salad with the kind of European traditions the new nation was designed to eliminate.
Give the credit to Lt. Col. Edward D. Townsend for first suggesting a medal of honor to his boss Commanding General of the U.S. Army Winfield Scott in 1861. Scott resisted, but the idea took hold. After Secretary of Navy Gideon Welles supported legislation for a Navy version, the Army got on board with the concept and Congress passed legislation that created the award.
The April 1862 mission, led by civilian spy James Andrews, was designed to cut off Confederate supply lines by destroying rail tracks and telegraph communications along a route between Marietta, Georgia and Chattanooga, Tennessee. Andrews’ raiders boarded a train in Marietta and hijacked it when passengers got off for breakfast at the first stop heading north.Advertisement
If Confederate troops holding Chattanooga could not be resupplied from the South, Union generals believed they could take the city and speed up the South’s defeat, ending the war at least two years before the actual surrender at Appomattox.
Confederate soldiers chased the train. Andrews’ men had to switch trains over the course of the journey and their replacement train ran out of water and fuel before they could complete their mission. The men scattered and Andrews was executed by Confederates for leading the mission. Parrott was captured and flogged before imprisonment. He was later returned to the Union Army in a prisoner exchange.
The story has been told on film before. Disney made “The Great Locomotive Chase,” a 1956 movie starring Fess Parker as James Andrews. Parker was at the height of his Davy Crockett fame. Claude Jarman Jr., best known as Jody in “The Yearling,” played Jacob Parrott in his final movie role before ending his on-screen career to join the U.S. Navy.
The movie tries to appeal to all audiences. The Confederates are honorable men who have a mission and so are the Union spies. Parker even tries to shake hands with his Confederate nemesis William Fuller (played by Jeffrey Hunter) before he goes to the gallows. There are opponents but no one’s really the villain.
Jacob Parrott was one of six Army volunteers who received a medal of honor on March 25, 1863. Because he’d been physically abused in a Confederate prisoner of war camp, Parrott was the first man to receive his medal in recognition of his sacrifice. He was joined that day by Sgt. Elihu H. Mason, Cpl. William Pittinger, Cpl. William H. H. Reddick, Pvt. William Bensinger and Pvt. Robert Buffum.
AUSA will be publishing three more Medal of Honor graphic novels this year, featuring Mitchell Red Cloud Jr., a Native American soldier who sacrificed his life in Korea, Wild Bill Donovan, the WWI hero who later founded the OSS, and Roger Donlon, the first recipient from the Vietnam War and the first Special Forces recipient.
Air Force Maj. Charles J. Loring Jr. was a veteran of World War II, former prisoner of war, and an accomplished fighter and bomber pilot when he took off on a mission over Korea on Nov. 22, 1952. When North Korean batteries scored hits on his plane that would normally force the pilot to abort the mission, Loring turned his dive bomber into a kamikaze plane instead.
Loring received his commission in the Army Air Forces in late 1942 and flew combat missions over Europe, notching up 55 combat missions and earning the Distinguished Flying Cross before he was shot down on Christmas Eve 1944 over Belgium and made a prisoner of war.
When Chinese and North Korean forces concentrated their artillery—including their anti-aircraft artillery—in two locations, Loring was called up to lead a bombing mission against them. Loring’s target featured 133 large guns and 24 rocket launchers for use against ground troops and 47 anti-aircraft weapons to keep men like Loring at bay.
Loring, newly promoted to major, was in the cockpit of an F-80 with three other jets on November 22 when he initiated the dive-bombing run against the Chinese positions.
But it all went to hell from there. The Chinese troops manning the guns were accurate, and they scored some hits when Loring lined up to dive on them. According to after-action reports and his medal citation, Loring had plenty of time to abort the drop, but he didn’t:
Major Loring aggressively continued to press the attack until his aircraft was hit. At approximately 4,000 feet, he deliberately altered his course and aimed his diving aircraft at active gun emplacements concentrated on a ridge northwest of the briefed target, turned his aircraft 45 degrees to the left, pulled up in a deliberate, controlled maneuver, and elected to sacrifice his life by diving his aircraft directly into the midst of the enemy emplacements.
Yeah, Loring turned his already stricken plane into the guns, hitting a cluster of them and burying them in the metal and burning fuel of his F-80. Of course, he lost his own life in the maneuver.
The U.S. Air Force nominated him for the Medal of Honor which he later received posthumously. He was one of only four airmen to receive the honor. When President Dwight D. Eisenhower awarded the medal to Loring’s wife, he also announced that a new Air Force base in Maine would be named in his honor.
Patrick Gavin Tadina served in the Army for 30 years. He spent a full five of those years fighting in Vietnam. If that wasn’t unique enough, Tadina, who would retire as a command sergeant major, would often do it dressed as the enemy.
Tadina was a trim 5’5” native Hawaiian, a look that would allow him to conduct and lead long range reconnaissance patrols deep into Vietnam’s central highlands. He would sometimes join an enemy patrol dressed in their distinct black pajamas, sandals, and carrying an AK-47.
Patrick Tadina joined the Army in 1962. By 1965, he was in Vietnam with the famed 173rd Airborne Brigade Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol. He also served in the 74th Infantry Detachment Long Range Patrol and Company N (Ranger), 75th Infantry. He was in the country for a full five years, until 1970.
With a trim figure and uniquely nonwhite American looks, he used his appearance to get the jump on enemy forces laying in wait for him in the jungle. He led American patrols dressed as the enemy so they wouldn’t have a chance to ambush his Rangers. When escaping from an enemy patrol, he could lead his pursuers into a friendly ambush.
When spotted by Viet Cong fighters or North Vietnamese regulars, the enemy often had to take a moment to figure out who Tadina was and what he was doing in the jungles of Vietnam. On one occasion, this pause allowed him to warn his fellow soldiers of an ambush, but resulted in Tadina taking two bullets to the legs.
Laying on the jungle floor in that firefight, he refused to give an inch to the enemy. He received a Silver Star for his actions that day.
In five years of fighting in Vietnam, Tadina was shot three times but never lost a man who served under him. It’s estimated that 200 soldiers served with Tadina without a casualty. The legendary Ranger himself was awarded two Silver Stars, 10 Bronze Stars (seven with valor), three Vietnamese Crosses of Gallantry, four Army Commendation Medals (two for valor), and three Purple Hearts.
The stories about Tadina abound on the internet. After his death, friends and fellow soldiers wrote their tributes and memories about the five years Tadina spent in Vietnam:
“Tad infiltrated an enemy hospital to free a POW,” wrote one Ranger. “He killed a guard with a silenced .22 but found the hospital deserted. Talk about balls and trade craft.”
After the Vietnam War, Tadina stayed in the Army. He would take part in the most significant combat actions in the post-Vietnam world. He served with the 82nd Airborne Division in Operation Urgent Fury in 1983 and with the 1st Infantry Division during Operation Desert Storm in 1991. He retired from the Army in 1992.
In 1995, Patrick Tadina was inducted into the Ranger Hall of Fame in Fort Benning, Georgia. Although he continued to work in the combat arms field in some of the post-9/11 world’s hotspots, he struggled with mental issues in his later years.
He died in 2020 at age 77, still one of the Vietnam War’s most decorated enlisted soldiers and an unforgotten icon among the U.S. Army’s Rangers, past and present. Although Tadina has passed, his legend will never die.
On January 21, 1968, North Vietnam achieved an impossible feat. With its Viet Cong counterparts, it managed to launch a large-scale, coordinated assault on American and South Vietnamese military bases and cities across South Vietnam, and they caught their capitalist enemy completely by surprise.
Nowhere was this surprise felt stronger by the Americans and South Vietnamese than in the ancient city of Hue, which was situated near the demilitarized zone between North and South. The communists caught the city completely unprepared. The U.S. response in its wake was so piecemeal because military planners couldn’t believe they could capture the city.
When a division of North Vietnamese soldiers attacked the city in the early morning hours, the defenses were minimal. Much of the force from the Army of the Republic of Vietnam (ARVN) was away for the Tet holiday. No matter what the remaining forces could muster, it would not be enough to repel the communists.
The Americans, at first, didn’t fare much better. United States Marines responded with a counterattack but had no idea what they were actually walking into. In fact, in the immediate aftermath, almost no one in the U.S. Army command knew the extent of the losses or of the enemy’s real strength in the city.
But those inside the city knew. Defenders of a small Military Assistance Command – Vietnam compound and a South Vietnamese Army Base were under heavy assault from the Viet Cong and had taken many casualties. Inside of Hue, they were fighting for their lives. The enemy quickly took control of the old citadel and were assaulting the ARVN base.
U.S. troops in an American UH-1 Huey helicopter were shot down over the ARVN installation. Once on the ground, they were surrounded by North Vietnamese and Viet Cong soldiers. Luckily for them Chief Warrant Officer Frederick Ferguson was flying nearby in a Huey of his own.
The Americans knew Hue was under attack. While they may not have known yet the full scope of the situation, they knew it was bad. Ferguson was advised not to try to assist the survivors of the crash but he wasn’t going to let them just die.
He immediately disregarded his resupply mission and made his way to Hue, where he also started taking anti-aircraft fire. He took his bird on a low-level flight along the Perfume River at maximum airspeed as he flew to the city and found the isolated ARVN compound where the remains of the downed helicopter still lay.
Under heavy small arms fire, he landed his aircraft in a space so tight it was almost impossible to operate the helicopter. The bird kicked up a storm cloud of dust as it landed and CWO Ferguson began to jettison everything aboard the airship that wasn’t necessary or nailed down.
As they loaded the wounded and exhausted survivors of the crash, the Huey began to take an enormous amount of small arms and mortar fire, nearly crippling it where it sat. Somehow, though, Ferguson skillfully got the ship airborne in spite of the damage and flew it and the survivors to safety. He flew back at the same speed and altitude at which he came in, taking even more damage to the aircraft.
His swift decision and cool head under fire saved the lives of five fellow soldiers, safely returning them to Phu Bai.
On Flag Day, 1969, Frederick Ferguson was presented with the Medal of Honor by President Richard Nixon. It was the first one presented to an Army aviator in the Vietnam War. That was far from the end for Ferguson, though. Over the course of his career he was awarded two Silver Stars, the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Bronze Star Medal, and 39 Air Medals. He is even one of a handful of Americans to appear on a postage stamp while still living.
Brig. Gen. Robert Scott was probably the most bombastic Air Force personality this side of Curtis LeMay. Scott made it his personal mission to be the best fighter pilot in the Army Air Forces by flying as much as he could. In the early 1930s, at a time when most airmen were logging 48 hours per year, Scott was logging 400.
By the time the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, Scott was itching to get into combat. The problem was Scott was much older than most pilots. So Scott had to do what many men who wanted to fight World War II did when they were disqualified: he lied.
In order to get into a theater of war – any theater – the former flight instructor told his superiors that he was proficient in flying B-17 Flying Fortress. He had never even flown one. But it was good enough to get him into the China-India-Burma theater. Luckily, he never had to fly one in combat.
Scott was part of the effort to bomb Japan from China, which required C-47 transports to airlift fuel over the Himalayas into China for the bombers. That effort fell through too, as flying over “the hump” (as the route became known) often required the transports to take on more fuel.
With this failure in air strategy, Robert Scott was finally about to get his taste of air combat. Brig. Gen. Claire Chennault, who famously led the “Flying Tigers,” a unit of American volunteer airmen flying for China before the war, noticed his bravado. Chennault placed him in command of the 23rd Fighter Group.
The pilots of the 23rd Fighter Group would fly Curtiss P-40 Warhawks in support of the Allies’ operations in China, support for transports flying over the hump, and had the mission of destroying Japanese aircraft, either in the air or on the ground anywhere in China they could find them.
On Scott’s first mission Japanese anti-aircraft guns penetrated the armor of his P-40 Warhawk and stuck its pilot full of metal shards. He made it home and landed his aircraft just like it was any other mission but was immediately taken to a cave overlooking the airfield for medical treatment. It was there he conceived the now-famous phrase.
Dr. Fred Manget treated Scott’s wounds, removing the metal splinters without the benefit of an anaesthetic. As he sat there working on the pilot, his Chinese aide reportedly asked Scott, “Colonel, you fly plane, shoot guns, talk radio, all-time fight barbarian. You do all these things alone?”
Scott looked at the man and replied, “Where in hell would anybody else sit? No, I don’t need any help. I’m a fighter pilot!”
The doctor, without missing a beat, interjected and told Scott simply, “You are never alone up there. Not with all the things you came through. You have the greatest co-pilot in the world even if there is just room for one in that fighter.”
The response blew Scott’s mind. He sat up and thought of the phrase, “God is my co-pilot.” He would later give his autobiography the same title. With this idea in mind, Scott returned to combat, becoming a fighter ace in just two months. He would be a double ace by the end of 1942. By January 1943, the end of his time in World War II, Scott would claim 13 enemy kills.
Scott would write and release his book, God Is My Co-Pilot, that same year. It became an instant bestseller, selling millions of copies and was made into a film by Warner Brothers.
Air Force Tech. Sgt. Robert Gutierrez is a Joint Terminal Attack Controller (JTAC) who was awarded the Air Force Cross for heroism during an intense firefight in Afghanistan in 2009.
JTACS are military personnel who direct combat support aircraft like the A-10, calling in air strikes to support ground operations.
Gutierrez was part of a nighttime raid with an Army special forces detachment to capture a high-value Taliban target, a “brutal” man living outside of the city of Herat in Western Afghanistan.
The team was attacked with heavy fire from a numerically superior and battle-hardened enemy force. Gutierrez was shot in the chest, his team leader was shot in the leg, and the ten-man element was pinned down in a building with no escape route.
“We were just getting hammered, getting peppered,” he recalls in a six-minute interview. He talked to his team’s leader who wanted to drop bombs on the enemy targets.
“If you put a bomb on that it’ll kill us all,” he told his leader. “Guys are getting wounded. Our best chance is a 30mm high-angle strafe.”
Gutierrez is having this discussion as bullets pepper the walls behind him, as a medic works on his chest wound, a through-and-through which the medic couldn’t find the entrance wound. He is also still holding off Taliban fighters with his M4 rifle.
“This is danger close, I need your initials,” he told his team lead.
“Less than 10 meters.”
Gutierrez needed the support of an A-10 Thunderbolt II, aka “Warthog,” whose 30mm GAU-8 Cannon rounds are the size of beer bottles, to make a precision strike on the attacking insurgents.
Capt. Ethan Sabin, an A-10 pilot based at Kandahar Airfield, asked a nearby F-16 pilot to mark the target with the laser on his targeting pod.
The A-10 attack was so close, Gutierrez’s right eardrum burst and his left eardrum was severely damaged from the noise. He lost five-and-a-half pints of blood getting away from the combat zone.
After the first A-10 strafing, the medic had to re-inflate Gutierrez’ collapsed lung so he could direct two more strafing runs. For four hours, the team held off the enemy fighters and escaped the battlespace.
To give an idea of the kind of interactions JTACs have with close-air support pilots in the heat of the moment, the video below is a prime example of the extraordinary actions Gutierrez and airmen like him perform on the battlefield every day.
There are three things soldiers possess in spades: courage, a dubious sense of humor and foul words. There are countless examples throughout military history mounting heroic resistance despite overwhelming odds and issuing brave or hilarious replies to surrender ultimatums. Some of these battles were won, others were lost, but the courage and the wit of these soldiers went down in history as symbols of panache.
Spartans at Thermopylae
How can one talk about military defiance without mentioning the Spartans? The battle of Thermopylae is the standard when it comes to clever use of terrain and stubborn resistance. During the Greco-Persian Wars in the fifth century B.C., Persians attempted to invade and crush Greece several times. In 480 B.C., one of these invasions would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for the Spartans. King Leonidas gathered a small force, estimated at 300 soldiers, to face the largest army to have ever walked the earth, according to the historian Herodotus.
Outnumbered thousands to one and ordered to lay down their weapons by King Xerxes’s envoys, the undaunted Spartans replied, “Come and take them.” Using the narrow channel of the Hot Gates to cancel the number of Persian soldiers, they resisted for three days. Eventually, they were surrounded and killed to the last. This heroic stand inspired the Greeks to take arms. The Spartans bought enough time for the city-states to gather an army to drive the Persian invasion back. A century later, they showed their nerve again when King Philip II of Macedonia demanded them not to resist. He threatened that the entire city of Laconia would be slaughtered if the Spartans were defeated, they only replied: “if…”
The Navy during the American Revolution
Commander John Paul Jones, often called the “Father of the American Navy”, was a man of flamboyant panache and daring. He was sometimes even called a pirate by his enemies.
He was the commander of the 42-gun USS Bonhomme Richard in 1779 during the American Revolutionary War. Commander Jones found himself facing two British ships, the 50-gun HMS Serapis and the 22-gun Countess of Scarborough. Completely outnumbered and outgunned, he still decided to brazenly engage them in battle. The Richard quickly sustained heavy damages and began to sink. According to some sources, when the British encouraged him to surrender, the commander defiantly replied, “I have not yet begun to fight.” According to others, it went more along the lines of, “I may sink, but I’ll be damned if I strike.” For the uninitiated, lowering the flag (or “striking” one’s colors), is an international sign of surrender.
No matter the words, the meaning was clear: he would fight to the end. With the dubious support of the Alliance, an allied ship that did as much damage to the enemy as to the Richard, the Countess of Scarborough was put out of service. Then, while his ship sank, Jones and his sharpshooters managed to clear the Serapis’ deck before boarding the British ship and capturing it. The Richard completely sank a day and a half later.
The French at Waterloo
A reply was made so famous by Pierre Jaques Etienne Cambronne, the word was named after him. Waterloo was one of Napoleon’s more famous defeats and led to his downfall. Yet, it was a moment of glory for one of his generals.
Surrounded on all sides and injured by shrapnel, the British repeatedly demanded his surrender, to which he replied, “the Guards die but do not surrender.” The ultimatum was given over and over again until the fed-up general replied “Merde!” (which means “sh*t” – pardon my French). In the end, he was captured by the British and the French troops were severely defeated, but his defiance against the despised British made him a celebrated figure in France and the swear word was named after him.
The man who won Waterloo isn’t routed Napoleon, it isn’t Wellington caving at four o’clock, desperate at five o’clock, it isn’t Blücher who did not fight, the man who won Waterloo is Cambronne. To strike with such a word the thunder that kills you, it is to vanquish.
101st Airborne at The Battle of the Bulge
By the winter of 1944, the tide of WWII had turned against the Germans. They were forced to retreat on both European fronts, progressively losing conquered territories. On the 16th of December, they launched the Battle of the Bulge, also known as the Ardennes Counteroffensive, in an effort take back Antwerp, the strategic Belgian port, and cut the Allied forces in two. Despite warning signs, the attack was almost a complete surprise.
On the southernmost attack road stood Bastogne, an important crossroads town on the way to the German’s objective. The German force arrived near Bastogne on the 20th of December, but it was already held by the 101st Airborne Battalion. The Germans encircled the town to lay siege to its occupants. The Americans were outnumbered five to one, lacked many basic supplies or a supply route, and had no senior management. The chaos was partially due to the 101st’s commander, Major General Maxwell Taylor, being engaged elsewhere at the time. Despite the obvious imbalance, they were not ready to give up.
On the 22nd of December, a delegation of German soldiers waving white flags presented their commander’s surrender ultimatum; the demand was not well received. Brigadier General Anthony McAuliffe, then in charge of the besieged American force replied simply: “NUTS!” The message was translated as “Go to Hell” to the German delegation before they were sent on their way. In the following days, the 101st sustained many casualties, but they held on until the 26th of December when elements of General Patton’s armies arrived and manage to break the encirclement. The siege ended on the 27th of December, and the 101st was nicknamed “The Battered Bastards of Bastogne.”
Shortly after enlisting in the Navy in 1963, Robert Ingram contracted pneumonia while in boot camp and was sent to the hospital for recovery.
While in the dispensary, an outbreak of spinal meningitis occurred. Ingram watched and admired how the Corpsmen treated their patients with such dedication. As soon as Ingram was healthy, he requested a rate (occupation) change to that of a Hospital Corpsman.
After earning his caduceus, Ingram was assigned to 1st Battalion 7th Marines where he volunteered for “C” company — better than as “Suicide Charley.”
Fully 7 months into his tour, an intense battle broke out against dozens of NVA troops and Ingram’s platoon was hit hard.
In one save during the battle, Ingram crawled across the bomb-scarred terrain to reach a downed Marine as a round ripped through his hand.
Hearing the desperate calls for a corpsman, Ingram collected himself and gathered ammunition from the dead. As he moved on from patient to patient, he resupplied his squad members as he passed by them.
Continuing to move forward, Ingram endured several gunshot wounds but continued to aid his wounded brothers. For nearly eight hours, he blocked out severe pain as he pushed forward to save his Marines.
On July 10, 1998, Ingram received the Medal of Honor for his heroic actions from President Bill Clinton.
Check out Medal of Honor Book‘s video below to watch Doc Ingram relive his epic story for yourself.
Combat veteran and Navy SEAL Kaj Larsen was born to be in the ocean, but these days he doesn’t blow things up underwater anymore. He’s saving it all instead.
Larsen grew up in Santa Cruz, California, where his mother taught at the university. Surrounded by “watermen,” the ocean was always home, he said. In 1995, he brought his aquatic abilities to the water polo team at the Naval Academy, committed to following a long, family tradition of military service.
“My grandfather served in the Navy during World War II and my father was a Marine during Vietnam so I thought it was important that I serve too. Because I came from this really aquatic background, the SEAL Team was a natural fit for me,” he explained.
Larsen transferred to the University of California in 1997 and then commissioned through Officer Candidate School (first in his class) in April of 2001. Not long after, our nation was at war. He was in the first phase of BUD/S class when America was attacked on 9/11. After graduation, he led teams into covert combat operations in the War on Terror for multiple deployments. In 2007, he transitioned from active duty after five years into the reserves.
Larsen left the Navy reserves in 2018 as a Lieutenant Commander.
After his active-duty military service, Larsen attended graduate school at Harvard for public policy and counter-terrorism studies. He very quickly became a familiar face on CNN, ABC or MSNBC where he reported from war zones across the world.
And, he volunteered to be water-boarded on live television.
You could also find him hosting VICE on HBO, where he produced documentaries on conflict and national security. Larsen was the only embedded journalist during the Nigerian fight against Boko Haram. The SEAL became an award-winning documentarian, journalist and producer.
His passion for national security and the military community merged his love of the ocean when he joined Force Blue Team as a veteran ambassador.
“Force Blue takes former special operations veterans and repurposes those underwater military skills for ocean conservation,” Larsen shared. “We have this dual mission of both healing the ocean and in doing so we can help heal veterans from our time in service. I really believe in the therapeutic and healing power of the ocean.”
You’ll find combat veterans just like him on the ocean floor planting coral, rescuing turtles, completing vital fish counts and conducting oceanic surveys. “It’s like my life has come full circle. Underwater demolition used to be my job and now I’m replanting coral reefs and watching them come back to life,” Larsen said.
In 2021, Larsen teamed up with veteran Marine Raider Don Tran for what was supposed to be a one-mile underwater ruck run when Ten Thousand challenged them to a feat of strength. The challenge was definitely accepted.
“We started training in the pool where it was definitely tough and challenging. But we accomplished it and like any two spec ops guys standing next to each other, we decided to ratchet up the intensity a little,” Larsen said with a laugh.
That “just a little” turned into a never-been-done-before five-mile underwater ruck. Using the freediving buddy system of one up and one down, the former special warfare operatives leapfrogged across the living ocean floor for five miles, all while carrying a 45-pound rock.
“The first 250 yards was brutal. It was not like the training in the pool. Here we had the ocean and current pushing us around. But like any marathon or mission we put one foot in front of the other and just grinded it out,” Larsen said.
Grind it out they did. It took them six hours and 28 minutes. The entire extraordinary event will be shown to the world in a documentary coming soon.
For this veteran Navy SEAL who relied on the ocean for so much, taking care of it is a mission he’s happy to accept. “I know the beauty and wonder of the sea. I also see with my own eyes the terrible impact happening to our ocean,” Larsen said. “I am dedicated, along with my brothers from Force Blue, to helping heal that thing which has done so much to help heal me.”
You can learn more about Kaj Larsen by clicking here and then dive (pun intended) into Force Blue’s mission over here.
The only things more badass than these quotes were the actions that followed them.
1. “Just hold the phone and I’ll let you talk to one of the bastards!” – Maj. Audie Murphy, U.S. Army
In January 1945, while fighting to reduce the Colmar Pocket, then-Lt. Audie Murphy led the depleted B Company, 15th Infantry Regiment in an attack on the town of Holtzwihr. The attack quickly ran into stiff resistance from German armor and infantry. Lt. Murphy ordered his men to withdraw while he held his position to continue to call in artillery on the advancing Germans. The Germans were nearly on top of him, but he continued to call for fire. Fearful of firing on their own soldier, headquarters asked Murphy how close the enemy was, to which he replied: “Just hold the phone and I’ll let you talk to one of the bastards!” During the same engagement, Lt. Murphy mounted a burning tank destroyer and drove off the Germans with its .50 caliber machine gun and continued artillery fire. He received the Medal of Honor for his actions.
2. “I have not yet begun to fight!” – John Paul Jones, U.S. Navy
When John Paul Jones sailed the USS Bonhomme Richard against the HMS Serapis in 1779, he was already famous in the Continental Navy for his daring in the capture of the HMS Drake. Although outgunned by the Serapis, Jones attempted to run alongside and lash the ships together, thus negating the advantage. The Bonhomme Richard took a beating, which prompted the British captain to offer to allow Jones to surrender. His reply would echo in eternity: “I have not yet begun to fight!” And he hadn’t – after more brutal fighting, with Jones’ ship sinking and his flag shot away, the British captain called out if he had struck his colors. Jones shouted back “I may sink, but I will never strike!” After receiving assistance from another ship, the Americans captured the Serapis. Unfortunately, the Bonhomme Richard was beyond salvage and sank.
3. “Come on you sons of bitches, do you want to live forever?!” – Sgt. Maj. Dan Daly, USMC
Then-1st Sgt Dan Daly was leading the 73rd Machine Gun Company at the Battle of Belleau Wood. He already had two Medals of Honor and cemented his place in Marine Corps history by then. Always tough and tenacious in the face of the enemy, Daly inspired his men to charge the Germans by jumping up and yelling “Come on you sons of bitches, do you want to live forever?!” The Marines attacked the woods six times before the Germans fell back. Daly was awarded a Navy Cross for his actions during the battle.
4. “I’m the 82nd Airborne and this is as far as the bastards are going.” – Pvt. 1st Class Martin, U.S. Army
As Christmas 1944 approached, the American forces in the Ardennes Forest were still in disarray and struggling to hold back the German onslaught. Versions of the story vary, but what is known is that retreating armor came upon a lone infantryman of the 325th Glider Infantry Regiment digging a foxhole. He was scruffy, dirty, and battle-hardened. When he realized the retreating armor were looking for a safe place, he told them, “Well buddy, just pull that vehicle behind me. I’m the 82nd Airborne and this is as far as the bastards are going.” They would indeed hold the line before driving the Germans back over the next several weeks.
5. “You’ll never get a Purple Heart hiding in a foxhole! Follow me!” – Col. Henry P. Crowe, USMC
Henry Crowe is known in the Marine Corps for his time as a Marine Gunner and his exploits in combat. He first displayed his gallantry at Guadalcanal while leading the Regimental Weapons Company of the 8th Marines. While engaged in fierce fighting with the Japanese, then-Capt. Crowe leaped up and yelled “Goddammit, you’ll never get a Purple Heart hiding in a foxhole! Follow me!” before leading a charge against Japanese positions. He received a Silver Star and Purple Heart for his actions on Guadalcanal and later a Navy Cross for his actions on Tarawa.
6. “Retreat, Hell!” – A number of American badasses who were told to retreat
Americans troops hate to retreat and traditionally respond with “Retreat, Hell!” when told that they should. Here are three of the most badass examples:
Maj. Lloyd W. Williams, USMC
The Battle of Belleau Wood had no shortage of hardcore Marines making a name for the Corps (literally, the moniker ‘Devil Dog’ is attributed to the battle) and then-Capt. Lloyd Williams set the tone from day one. As the French were falling back in the face of a German assault, they came across a Marine officer of the 5th Marine Regiment advancing on Belleau Wood. A frantic French officer advised the American that they must retreat. Not one to shy away from a fight, Capt. Williams responded “Retreat, Hell! We just got here!” Capt. Williams was killed in the fighting nine days later but posthumously received the Distinguished Service Cross and a promotion to Major.
Col. Rueben H. Tucker, U.S. Army
After the initial assault landings at Salerno in September 1943, the Allied beachhead was in a precarious position. The 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment conducted a combat jump to reinforce allied lines and moved out to the high ground at Altavilla to shore up the line. When a strong German counterattack threatened to dislodge the paratroopers, Gen. Dawley, VI Corps commander, called Col. Tucker and ordered his withdrawal. He vehemently replied “Retreat, Hell! Send me my 3rd Battalion!” 3/504 went in support and the regiment held the line.
Gen. Oliver P. Smith, USMC
The Battle of Chosin Reservoir is a story of incredible toughness and tenacity by American forces, particularly the 1st Marine Division. Chesty Puller had his own memorable quotes during the battle, but it was 1st Marine Division commander Oliver P. Smith who reiterated American resolve and refusal to retreat when he said “Retreat, Hell! We’re just advancing in a different direction!” And he meant it – the 1st Marine Division broke through the encirclement and fought its way to evacuation at Hungnam.
Robert Howard may have spent more time in Vietnam than any other soldier and he has the wounds to prove it. For an astonishing 54 full months, the Special Forces soldier slugged it out with any number of North Vietnam’s finest, receiving 14 wounds.
He also received a battlefield commission, eight Purple Hearts, the Distinguished Service Cross, the Silver Star and four Bronze Stars. To top it all off, he also received the Medal of Honor. Robert Howard was the most decorated soldier since Audie Murphy in World War II.
He should have topped Murphy by becoming the first-ever three-time Medal of Honor recipient, but it could never have been. Some say he really is the most decorated soldier ever produced by the Army. The problem is that most of Howard’s war was classified.
Howard spent 36 years in the United States Army, first enlisting in 1956. He arrived in Vietnam in 1967, and his first 13 months were a doozy. It was this initial time period that Howard was nominated for the Medal of Honor three times.
It’s easy to realize why he was put in a position to earn the Medal of Honor three times. As a member of Army Special Forces, he was assigned to the top secret Military Assistance Command, Vietnam – Studies and Observations Group (MACV-SOG). The classified command participated in the war’s most important and prominent operations.
It also participated in the war’s least prominent operations, especially those conducted in Laos and Cambodia. The top secret operations that put Howard in the position of being nominated for three Medals of Honor would be the reason two of them were downgraded to a Silver Star and the Distinguished Service Cross, respectively.
While leading a mission of American and South Vietnamese soldiers looking for the missing soldier Robert Scherdin, his platoon was attacked by two companies of enemy troops. Howard was unable to walk and his weapon had been destroyed by a grenade. He still managed to crawl through a hail of gunfire to rescue his platoon leader.
He dragged the downed officer back to the American-South Vietnamese unit and reorganized it to put up a stiff defense against an overwhelming enemy. Unable to fight, he still directed the unit and crawled around administering first aid to the wounded. Under his direct leadership, they were able to fight until rescue helicopters could land.
Howard was the last person to get aboard the helicopters and was awarded the Medal of Honor. He learned about his award via radio on his way back from another mission in Cambodia. Since his other two medal recommendations were based on classified missions into Cambodia, which is the reason many believe they were downgraded.
If it bothered Howard that his two other medal recommendations were downgraded, you’d never know it. He spent four and a half years fighting in Vietnam and 36 total years in the U.S. Army in some form. After retiring from the Army in 1992 (as Col. Robert L. Howard), he continued working with veterans and would even visit American troops stationed in Iraq until his death in 2009.
Robert L. Howard died of pancreatic cancer and is buried in Arlington National Cemetery.