medal of honor

When the line broke at Unsan, Father Emil Kapaun moved toward the fire, pulled the wounded to life, and showed men that leadership starts at the point of impact.

On Saint Michael’s Day in Ramadi, Mike Monsoor chose the blast so his brothers could breathe, proof that character is built in quiet reps long before history calls your name.

When Chau Phu turned into a knife fight in a phone booth, Drew Dix grabbed whoever would move, keyed his radio, and bulldozed through Tet’s chaos—rescuing civilians, stacking prisoners, and proving leadership starts with stepping into the gunfire.

Medal of Honor recipient Navy SEAL Michael Murphy surprises his parents with one last moving phone call.

When the courtyard turned into a killing ground at Baghdad Airport, Paul R. Smith climbed into the turret, took the fight on his shoulders, and made damn sure his men walked away alive.

Custer fell early in the river, his brother Tom fought on—“the bravest man the Sioux ever fought,” yet history buried his stand.

On September 1, 1968, Col. William A. Jones III braved flames and gunfire to guide a rescue that earned him the Medal of Honor.

Macario García’s story is proof that courage isn’t about glory—it’s about standing up when no one else can and carrying others forward, no matter the cost.

On August 23, 1945, General Jonathan Wainwright was freed from a Japanese POW camp, returning home a hero and Medal of Honor recipient.

From farm fields to battlefields, Van T. Barfoot’s courage at Carano Creek carried his men through one of WWII’s toughest fights.

Fred B. McGee wasn’t chasing glory on that Korean hillside—he was just stubbornly, relentlessly doing his job, one impossible step at a time, until every man he could save was off that mountain alive.

David Bellavia didn’t come back from Fallujah with swagger or speeches—he came back with ghosts, blood on his boots, and a vow that he’d never freeze again when the devil kicked in the door.