Medal of Honor Monday

Paris Davis proved that real leadership isn’t about chasing medals, but about carrying your men through hell and refusing to let history forget it.

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.

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.

William Carney didn’t just carry the flag at Fort Wagner—he hauled the soul of a nation on his back through a storm of lead, and never let it fall.

Clint Romesha didn’t fight for glory—he fought for the guy next to him, in a godforsaken valley that the brass called indefensible and he turned into a proving ground for grit.

Theodore Roosevelt Jr. didn’t just carry his father’s famous name ashore on D-Day—he carried the fight, a cane, and the kind of guts that turned chaos into victory.

James P. Fleming didn’t fly into danger for medals or headlines—he did it because six men needed saving and he was the last man left who could do it.

Patrick Henry Brady didn’t earn the Medal of Honor by taking lives—he earned it by repeatedly risking his own to save them, one harrowing mission at a time.

He survived the Holocaust, became a US war hero, and saved dozens as a POW. Tibor Rubin’s story is one of grit, grace, and true courage.