11-11-11

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Hal Fritz, John Hodowal, Medal of Honor, Medal of Honor Bridge Dedication, veterans, Veterans Day

OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF HEROES,
A NEW TRUTH ABOUT GREATNESS

In honor of all veterans on Veterans Day, 11-11-11

At precisely 11 AM on November 11, 2011, a wreath will be laid at the tomb of the Unknowns, followed by a parade of colors by veterans’ organizations and remarks from dignitaries, held in the Memorial Amphitheater.  It is a day to set aside time to thank all who have served in the U.S. Armed Forces.

Earlier on October 19, 2011, unassuming, good ole Indiana Hoosiers started showing their gratitude for a special group of veterans and in so doing, made history – again.

The first time Hoosiers led the pack in writing history was May 19.  Dave Shively of Lafayette, Indiana, bore witness to his dream come true:  a Lafayette highway bridge was dedicated to all Medal of Honor recipients, with seven of these astounding men in attendance to cut the ribbon.  It was the first bridge in the nation to be so dedicated to all recipients.

The second bridge to honor all Medal of Honor recipients was dedicated on October 19.  This time in Indianapolis, and not too far from the Medal of Honor Memorial, also the first of its kind in the country (thanks to the efforts of John Hodowal and the IPL company).  This newly dedicated Medal of Honor Bridge is right next door to the well-respected Richard L. Roudebush Veterans Affairs Medical Center (VAMC), on 10th Street.  Eight Medal of Honor recipients attended the event, including Harold (Hal) A. Fritz, a Vietnam veteran who has recently assumed the presidency of the Congressional Medal of Honor Society.

I had an opportunity to chat with Mr. Fritz after the special luncheon held in honor of the recipients.  Mr. Fritz graciously insisted I call him Hal.  I did, but I really wanted to say, “Mr. Hero.”

The Medal of Honor recipient was easy-going and gracious.  Having multiple veterans as friends and working with various associations and publications in their honor, the first thought that came to my mind and I carelessly blurted out was, “Do you sleep at night?”  Hal’s eyes took on the thousand mile stare and I wisely jumped back and asked him what it was he wanted people to know.  Would he mind just telling me what was important to him?

Hal gently touched the magnificent medal that was hanging around his neck.  Its pale blue ribbon with stars and the star-shaped medal is extremely humbling viewed up close, one can only imagine what it must be like to actually wear it.  It was a symbol of other things, he remarked, and marveled at the changes wearing the Medal creates in the life of its recipient.  Suddenly, you are a very public person; but that’s okay, he assured me. The Medal makes you an ambassador for your country, and all recipients accept that with great humility.

He shared his time living in Germany when he and his wife wanted to show respect to their neighbors by recognizing what was important to them.  They had noticed how the lawns were always tidy, and how window boxes were everywhere.  He and his wife tidied and planted and set about other ways of showing respect.  They happily got acquainted with their neighbors. One night during socializing, Hal was surprised when his neighbor raised a toast to the United States, the road systems, and the marvel of traveling from one climate to another while remaining in the United States.

The toast was a true testament to our freedoms.  Not just our right to speak our minds, but the freedom to just go and visit our family or friends, without permission from anyone in uniform; to travel from state to state without any military police stopping you along the way.  Appreciating that freedom and those who defend it is first and foremost.  All the recipients of the Medal of Honor speak with  great admiration for our current military and those who serve because they choose to protect our freedom, to volunteer for serving our county.  They go into it understanding what sacrifices they may have to make, and this makes them truly courageous and equally true heroes.  But our military are not the only heroes, Hal added.  The military is not separate from humanity.

To Hal, The Medal of Honor does not distinguish him from others, but connects him.  It is a medal of honor, but also a medal of unity.  It unifies him, he said, to all the other heroes in life.  He spoke with great respect about teachers and how they are guideposts to help people fulfill their roles in life, to learn to appreciate all the good that exists, and to strive to contribute to the greater whole.  He spoke of those who work hard on every level of life and do their best, day after day.  They, too, he says, have tapped into that greatness that is within all of us, that bit of spark that makes most of us quiet heroes, but heroes nonetheless.   We all have greatness within, he asserts.  All we have to do is tap into it.

In his upcoming two years as President of the Congressional Medal of Honor Society, he will  focus on establishing a museum that holds all that is associated with honoring the Medal of Honor.   He acknowledged the splendid contributions of memorials to the Medal of Honor (MOH) recipients, including a great appreciation for the memorial in Indy, but made a distinction between memorials and museums.   The museum would be a place to hold all the memorabilia and items that have been collected over the years by the MOH recipients.  His desire for a museum is not just to showcase the items, but to continue the legacy of the Medal itself.  With most MOH recipients growing older and few young recipients, the legacy is in danger of losing its continuity.  A museum would help sustain its history and what it symbolizes, and be a message of inspiration to all generations to come.

Hal spoke of post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), but not in a way I ever heard before.  First officially diagnosed with Vietnam veterans decades after the Vietnam War, PTSD is a constant companion to many of our surviving vets.  Hal did not dispute that or its terrible impact upon a veteran’s life.  Yet his face took on a glow of pride when he mentioned our younger veterans.  His voice was full of emotion when he spoke of what the Iraq and Afghanistan veterans have gone through.  There they were, he said in an awed voice, no legs, an arm shattered, skull repaired…and still full of life and wanting to get back into society as a solid, contributing citizen.  He shook his head slightly as he spoke of Vietnam veterans who have health issues themselves, but nothing in comparison to what our current combat vets are facing.  His eyes sparkled with pride when he spoke of how humbling but inspiring it is to the older veterans.  Hal, a Vietnam veteran himself, said that the younger combat vets are motivating his generation of veterans into appreciating what they have and feeling grateful.  The PTSD burden the Vietnam veterans carry is decidedly lightened by the sheer raw courage and strength of the Iraq and Afghanistan combat veterans.

The Indianapolis bridge and the Lafayette bridge that came before it, may be dedicated specifically to the Medal of Honor recipients, but to Hal, it is a part of the larger whole.  Of one generation of veterans helping another; one generation of humanity helping those who came before, and no doubt, those who will come after.  Perhaps, too, one kind of hero reaching out to the hero in all of us.

On this Veterans Day, 2011, may all our veterans…and those they had to leave behind…stand tall with the recipients of the Medal of Honor.  May they all know that these bridges dedicated to this special group of hero, is a shared span of greatness that lives within us all.

Thank you, Hal, for your time, your graciousness and your wisdom.  I am glad you made it back.

He never did tell me if he slept at night.

Heroes Among Us: Medal of Honor Recipients, Part 2 of 2

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Medal of Honor recipients

It was November 11, 2005, and I was in Washington, DC, with my brother attending a special kind of reunion. Not only was it a reunion of veterans, it was a reunion of specific veterans: the survivors of the Vietnam Ia Drang Valley Ambush of November, 1965.  It was their fortieth anniversary,  Ia Drang was the first najor battle of the Vietnam Warm and was later chronicled in the book and movie, We Were Soldiers Once…and Young, written by (Ret.) Lt. Gen. Hal Moore and Joe Galloway, who was a war correspondentcovering the operation for UPI.

Elements of the 1st Air Cavalry Division, including the 1st Battalion, 7th Cavalry Regiment, commanded by Moore (a Lt. Col. at the time), were ordered into the valley to engage a large enemy force.  Within twenty-four hours, the enemy had almost surrounded the battalion, and Moore called for reinforcements.  By the end of the battle, almost two hundred and fifty Americans had been killed, with a similar number wounded.

Medal of Honor Recipients

Among the survivors attending the reunion were three Congressional Medal of Honor recipients:  Joe Marm, Ed “Too Tall” Freman and Bruce Crandall.

Joe Marm

I would not have guessed that Joe was a Medal of Honor recipient when my brother introduced me to him.  All I noticed was his quick smile, kind manner and pleasant disposition.  If someone had predicted that as a 2nd Lieutenant, Marm would draw enemy fire towards himself to save his platoon, charge 30 meters across open ground to hurl grenades, and then keep firing from his rifle while suffering severe wounds, I would have said,  “What?  Good ole Joe?  He’s too nice, too mild-mannered to try such a thing!”  He is a very humble, sweet man.

Ed “Too Tall Freeman”

After talking with Joe, another survivor lead me to a guy on the other side of the room who was so tall, he towered over everybody.  He was entertaining the group with jokes, talking animatedly, gesturing wildly and laughing loudly after he delivered his punch line, right along with his friends.  When I had to look way up to meet Ed “Too Tall” Freeman, my first thought was, “How can such a teddy bear be such a big guy ?”  Ed was as gracious as a knight, easy-going and in great demand by the crowd.  “Too Tall” had been a captain in Vietnam, piloting an assault helicopter.  When the ambush in the Ia Drang Valley started, he flew in under heavily armed fire delivering critically needed ammunition, water and medical supplies.  He did this repeatedly, with little rest.  When the fighting got too intense for the medical evacuation helicopters to fly in for the wounded, “Too Tall” hopped into his chopper and flew back into the fighting to evacuate the seriously wounded soldiers not once, but fourteen times.  Each time within 100 – 200 meters of the defensive perimeter.

Bruce Crandall

Another veteran grabbed my arm and told me there was somebody else I should meet.  He walked me into the middle of the room right next to a pleasant dude with a quick grin.  I had to wait a few minutes to meet this man, as there was a steady stream of veterans coming up, giving him big handshakes.  Who was this quiet, yet cheery man?  “That’s Bruce Crandall,” somebody whispered.

I suddenly felt as if somebody had slapped me.  I knew all about Bruce Crandall.  He didn’t know it, and he didn’t know me — I wasn’t there in the valley – but I was one of the lives he saved in 1965.

Like “Too Tall,” Major Crandall was an assault helicopter pilot, flying in ammunition and medical supplies to the troops.  He was between runs when he heard the medical pilots’ rapid and traumatized talk about how the fighting made it impossible for them to go back in and pick up our wounded.  To Bruce, there was no such word as “couldn’t.”  Fierce assault was only a mere detail to Bruce.  He knew he had to go in and get our boys out, or he would die trying.

On the same day Bruce was arguing with the medical pilots, a slightly built, twenty-three year old 2nd Lieutenant from a small town in Iowa, lay upon the ground, near-fatally wounded by mortar shelling, and bleeding to death.  Four of Bob’s platoon members rolled him onto his poncho and carried him through enemy fire to Landing Zone X-Ray, where the medical helicopters would pick him up.  It was his only chance.  Explosions were bursting all around the landing zone.  The four dropped Bob at the pickup site and headed back towards their perimeter under constant enemy fire.  Soaking in his own blood, prostate on enemy soil, Bob was scared about dying alone in a hostile country, with no family knowing it or being there to comfort him.  He did not want to die that way and prayed for help to come before it was too late for him.  As dusk came into the valley, his thoughts turned to the brutal enemy and how he would rather die than be found and tortured.   With evening darkening the sky, Bob knew his chances were slim.  He was losing all hope when suddenly he heard the familiar whomp whomp whomp of a chopper:  Bruce was on his way.  The young lieutenant reached for the hand of the wounded man on the poncho next to his and croaked, “We’re gonna make it!  We’re gonna make it!”  And then he burst into tears.

Bruce flew through twenty-two missions throughout that day and well into the evening, all under continuous enemy fire, rescuing our wounded boys.  This was Bruce’s 21st mission.   That Iowa boy was my big brother.

Bob had been my hero when we were growing up.  We had a special bond that connected us that made him more a father to me than a brother.   At fifteen, I would not have been equipped to deal with the desolation and depression of Bob’s death in my world.  Grief would have overwhelmed me.  I know I would have chosen a path of self-destruction rather than live without him.   Now in 2005, looking at the man who saved my brother’s life – and in so doing, saved mine —  I wondered:  how many other sisters, wives, and parents of brothers, husbands, and sons, or future sons, daughters and grandchildren, were saved by Bruce that day, too?

As the evening reception wore on, the laughs got less frequent and the chattering started nose-diving into quiet.  Something was changing the mood in the room.  Whiffs of “ died on the jungle floor,” “on the river bed with only one machine gun,” flew between “so my kid wouldn’t have to fight,”  and “still can’t sleep.”  Low voices spoke of names on the Wall.  Percentages of disability weaved in and out of the air with, “VA says I gotta get tested for cancer” or “still in country.”  The multiple conversations created a tapestry of such pain and suffering that it twisted my stomach and heart into knots.

A hurried movement to my left startled me.  Joe Marm was leaving, and quickly.  His face had lost all its peace.  His shoulders slumped.  He looked to be in pain.

Footsteps sounded to my right and I turned to see “Too Tall” walking slowly out of the room, head down and a shuffle to his feet.  His group stood where they had gathered, silent.  All eyes were to the floor.

I sought out Bruce who was turning in my direction and I caught the look in his eyes when he did.  It choked off my air.  His eyes were haunted.  They glittered with sharp fragments of intense pain.  Suffering was spread all across his face.  He turned back and the look was hidden.

In meeting these recipients, it was not just in knowing what heroic actions they accomplished that impressed me.  It was in discovering not how they were different, but how they were similar to all other combat veterans, including those of Iraq and Afghanistan.   Their eyes are all the same.  That haunted look is always there.

I am grateful to have met these three men from the Vietnam War who deserved the Congressional Medal of Honor for their heroic actions.  I am glad our country has found a way to honor those whose great sacrifices saved lives; often, not their own.

Celebrating the awarding of the Congressional Medal of Honor gives us more than just a chance to applaud those who deserve this special recognition.  It gives us cause to honor that high level of sacrifice itself, the commitment to duty and the harsh courage, that must be reached by all who serve their country, and who lived it honorably along with these outstanding Medal of Honor winners.   It allows those of us who were left behind a chance to say thank you to all those other heroes whose served and met this high standard of behavior; to those who must face each day with a special kind of trust unique to all combat veterans; that trust that for each day they arise with a will to live as honorably as they can, with a heart that is willing to be open and kind in spite of the homecoming parades they did not get or the nightmares they did, they are truly the bravest of the brave.

Thank you to the Congressional Medal of Honors recipients.  Thank you, especially, Bruce Crandall.

But thank you, too, to all the other heroes who served honorably and now live quietly among us.  I am glad you made it back, too.

Web sites and locations of Medal of Honor Memorials

Indianapolis, Indiana:    www.medalofhonormemorial.com/

Riverside, California:     www.rncsc.org/

Mount Pleasant, South Carolina:    www.patriotspoint.org/exhibits/medal_honor/

Pueblo, Colorado:    www.pueblomohfoundation.com/

Legion of Valor History:    www.legionofvalor.com/history.php

Preserving the History of the Recipients of the Medal of Honor: www.homeofheroes.com

Height of Valor — Vietnam casualties who earned our country’s highest military honors:

http://www.VirtualWall.org/valor.htm

This index is dedicated to those who earned our nation’s highest awards for valor in combat — the Medal of Honor, the appropriate Service Cross, and the Silver Star Medal.  The names shown here are links to personal memorial pages on The Virtual Wall in honor of the men who earned the award and lost their lives in the Vietnam War.

Heroes Among Us: Medal of Honor Recipients, Part 1 of 2

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Medal of Honor recipients

Of the two hundred and forty Vietnam War Congressional Medal of Honor recipients, only sixty are still living. Which makes meeting three of them in November of 2005 – all in the same room – at the same time – quite remarkable. But it was not just the honor of shaking hands with Joe Marm, Ed “Too Tall” Freeman, and Bruce Crandall that was unexpected. What I saw in the eyes of these three extraordinary men changed my life forever.

Recipients of the Congressional Medal of Honor were virtually ignored by our country for well over a century. It was not until 1999 that these thirty-four hundred-plus heroes were finally brought into the national limelight. In 1998, John Hodowal, then chairman of the Indianapolis, Indiana-based energy company IPALCO Enterprises, read a New York Times article about the annual meeting of the Congressional Medal of Honor Society. The article described the heroic deeds of those who had earned our nation’s highest honor.

John was so moved by their stories that he approached IPALCO for help in finding a way to formally recog­nize these outstanding individuals. To every­one’s amazement, the research indicated that few Americans knew of this elite group’s sacrifices. There was not even a memorial to acknowledge them or their acts of heroism.

Time to correct a national wrong

Not only would John and his company bring the medal’s recipients to Indianapolis for recognition, but they would build them a memorial.

The Medal of Honor Memorial, in Indianapolis, was completed in 1999, with ninety-six Medal of Honor recipients present. The memorial consists of twenty-seven curved blue/green plate glass panels, each between seven and ten-feet tall. The panels display fifteen conflicts, dating back to the Civil War. Three other states quickly followed suit with their own memorials: Riverside, California; Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina; and Pueblo, Colorado.

I live in Indianapolis, and visited the memorial to see where “my” three recipients were listed. As I walked toward the glass panels of names, I thought about the good old Iowa boy who started this medal business back in 1861.

The Medal of Honor

Iowa Senator James Grimes’s bill of 1861was drafted to encourage efficiency in the Navy. Medals were to be awarded to those who distinguished themselves by showing gallantry in action and other “seamanlike qualities.” Signed by President Lincoln, the bill authorized the production and distribution of these new Navy “medals of honor.”

In 1862, Massachusetts Senator Henry Wilson authorized a similar bill for the Army. Its Medal of Honor would be awarded to privates who distinguished themselves in battle. Lincoln authorized two thousand Medals of Honor to “be presented, in the name of the Congress, to such non-commissioned officers and privates as shall most distinguish themselves by their gallantry in action, and other soldier-like qualities.” (The United States Air Force would receive legislative authority for its own Air Force Medal of Honor in 1956.)

Walking through our paneled memorial, I wondered if the Congress of 1862 knew that the military recognition it sanctioned to promote efficiency would become the most elite award for bravery in our nation’s history.

The criteria for receiving the medal have not always been what it is today. It began its first evolution after the Battle of the Little Big Horn in 1876, with a new standard that included conduct beyond the normal discharge of duty.

In 1897, President McKinley added the requirement for eyewitnesses. President Theodore Roosevelt’s 1905 Executive Order required that the medal be awarded in a “formal and impressive ceremony,” presented by the President as Commander-in-Chief, or the designee of the President, with one exception made for campaigns.

In that instance, the division or higher commander could then present the medal. It was not until 1915 that the award, originally designed for enlisted personnel, was extended to officers. The Congress of 1918 seemed to sense some of the medal’s future, passing an act stipulating that only the Medal of Honor could be presented in the name of Congress, and that no person could receive more than one.

The Medal of Honor itself also inspired the creation of two separate associations. Recipients from the Civil War and Indian War Campaign organized themselves in 1890 as “The Medal of Honor Legion.” The group changed its name in 1933 to “The Army and Navy Legion of Valor,” and once again in 1961 as the “Legion of Valor of the United States of America, Inc.”

The early and continuing prestige attached to the Medal of Honor brought on a strong desire in some to promote the ideals represented by the medal itself: patriotism and love of country. In 1946, the Congressional Medal of Honor Society was formed to protect and preserve the dignity of the medal, and aid its recipients, spouses, and children.

Few changes, though, have been made to the appearance of the medal. Currently, though varying in design, the Medals of Honor from all branches of service (Army, Navy/Marines/Coast Guard, and Air Force) display the medal suspended below a neck ribbon.

My three guys

Pausing at the Vietnam War panel, I stared at the names of “my” three guys. Joe Marm was awarded his medal in 1967. Ed “Too Tall” Freeman received his in 2001. Back in 2005, Bruce Crandall’s nomination was still under review. He finally received his medal in 2007. “Too Tall” died in August of 2008.

Every day at dusk, our memorial plays a thirty-minute recording of the stories of the individual acts of heroism carried out by the medal recipients. Most of the stories were recorded by the recipients themselves.

But I already knew the stories of “my” three. I had learned what took place during those horrific days of November 14 through 17, 1965, in the Ia Drang Valley, in South Vietnam. One of “my” men would save lives not only in the valley, but way above and beyond Vietnam, right into a small town in the eastern part of Iowa. One of the many other lives he saved that day was my own.

 

Web sites and locations of Medal of Honor Memorials

Indianapolis, Indiana:    www.medalofhonormemorial.com/

Riverside, California:     www.rncsc.org/

Mount Pleasant, South Carolina:    www.patriotspoint.org/exhibits/medal_honor/

Pueblo, Colorado:    www.pueblomohfoundation.com/

Legion of Valor History:    www.legionofvalor.com/history.php

Preserving the History of the Recipients of the Medal of Honor: www.homeofheroes.com

Height of Valor — Vietnam casualties who earned our country’s highest military honors:

http://www.VirtualWall.org/valor.htm

This index is dedicated to those who earned our nation’s highest awards for valor in combat — the Medal of Honor, the appropriate Service Cross, and the Silver Star Medal.  The names shown here are links to personal memorial pages on The Virtual Wall in honor of the men who earned the award and lost their lives in the Vietnam War.