My annual Black History Month article, because I'm so racist

Me in April  '11 with Tim Scott, now a Senator from South Carolina. The NAACP hates him even more than they hate me.

I graduated high school almost 27 years ago, from a small high school in coastal Maine on the New Hampshire border. Admittedly, there wasn't exactly a lot of racial diversity there, but I spent my life prior to high school in a very diverse environment. As an elementary/middle school kid in the Maryland suburbs around Washington, DC we covered Black History Month pretty well every year. It was covered less in high school in Maine, probably in part due to the fact we had maybe 4 black kids in the school. Of course, we always covered the standard figures one expects to find in Black History Month, the George Washington Carvers, the Martin Luther Kings, the Frederick Douglasses, the Harriet Tubmans...

Nowadays, it seems that instead of decent role models from American history, American kids in general and black kids in particular are cleaving towards thug-life rappers and sports figures.

Three years ago I did a blog series where I wrote an article a day every day for Black History Month. Three years ago I challenged myself to daily highlight an inspirational black American that I felt needed to be showcased, not just as a role model for kids but as historically significant Americans who were being overlooked by the left-leaning educational system that indoctrinates our kids. Because as far as the left is concerned I'm just a racist.

Here are links to the ones you missed from February 2011.

Black History Month, my way.

The Tuskegee Airmen

Robert H. Jenkins

Lawrence Joel

Joe D'Acosta

Oscar P. Austin

Clarence Sasser

Charles Rogers

Riley Pitts

Vernon Baker

Carl Brashear

Dorie Miller

Milton Olive

Jesse Brown

James Anderson

Ruben Rivers

Russell Honore

John Warren

John Fox

Freddie Stowers

Quincy Green

Ron McNair

Charles Thomas

Cornelius Charlton

Webster Anderson

Ralph Johnson

Garfield Langhorn

And my wrap up open letter to Black America.

And in 2013 I added a few more:

Henry Lincoln Johnson

Alwyn Cashe

Clifford C. Sims

And because I just can't let it go without highlighting another great American and inspirational black man during Black History Month, today I also honor Corporal Isaiah Mays.

Mays was born into slavery in Virginia in 1858. He joined the Army from Columbus Barracks, Ohio, and by May 11, 1889 was serving with the Buffalo Soldiers as a Corporal in Company B of the 24th Infantry Regiment. On that day, he was part of a small detachment assigned to protect a U.S. Army pay wagon, which was caught in an ambush by a band of bandits. A gunfight ensued and almost all the soldiers were wounded or killed in what later became known as the Wham Paymaster Robbery. Mays was shot in both legs. The bandits made off with $29,000 in gold coins.

Despite his wounds, Mays managed to walk and crawl two miles to a ranch to seek help.The next year, on February 19, 1890, Mays was awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions during the engagement.

After leaving the army in 1893, Mays worked as a laborer in Arizona and New Mexico. He applied for a federal pension in 1922, but was denied. He entered the Territorial Insane Asylum, now known as the Arizona State Hospital, in Phoenix, which housed not only the mentally ill but also people with tuberculosis and those living in poverty. He died at the hospital in 1925, at age sixty-seven, and was buried in the adjoining cemetery. His grave was marked with only a small stone block, etched with a number. In 2001, the marker was replaced with an official United States Department of Veterans Affairs headstone which stated his name, service history, and his status as a Medal of Honor recipient.

Eight years later, in March 2009 under the care of the Old Guard Riders Inc., Corporal Mays' remains were disinterred, cremated and placed in an urn designed especially for him. On 29 May 2009, in a ceremony befitting a Medal of Honor recipient, Corporal Mays was interred in Arlington National Cemetery.

The Honor Guard folding the flag at the Arlington interment of Mays.

 Born a slave and died not just a free man, but a Medal of Honor recipient. Neglected by his country but in the end, certainly not forgotten. Young black Americans could certainly have worse role models. In fact, you willingly choose worse role models on a daily basis. Stop looking to spoiled overpaid sports figures and talentless hack rappers. Pull up your pants, get an education, and believe in yourselves. Don't dishonor the legacy and memories of good men who came before you and had it much, much worse than you ever will. But you don't have to believe me. What do I know? I'm just a middle-aged white conservative male, the man that the Democrat Party and the Unions, and the NAACP would have you believe is your enemy. Feel free to believe the unions, run by rich white guys who just want your money while you bust your ass, believe the NAACP who wants you to remain a subservient victim while taking your money and blaming everything on Whitey, and believe the Democrats on the left who gladly manipulate you and keep you down while taxing you to death. The same party that has unemployment among black teens at 38%. But do believe in yourselves and your ability to rise above whatever obstacles life throws at you. That's what great Americans do. It's not just Black History, it's American History. The history of us as a nation and a people. Be somebody. Make your mark on history. Be a positive inspiration to some kid down the road.

Black History Month: Henry Lincoln Johnson

The story of Henry L. Johnson would make one hell of a Hollywood movie, but Hollywood by and large would rather skip true American hero stories in favor of mindless drivel.

Henry was born in Alexandria, Virginia in 1897 and in his early teens moved to Albany, New York. He was working as a redcap porter at Albany's Union Station in 1917 when he enlisted in the New York National Guard's all-black 15th Infantry Regiment based in Harlem. The unit was renamed the 369th Infantry Regiment (The Harlem Hellfighters) prior to deployment to Europe, with Johnson arriving in France on New Year's Day, 1918.

Early on in the campaign the regiment was relegated to menial taskings due to the racism of their white commanders. They unloaded cargo vessels, dug ditches and other scut duties.  Finally, after weeks of this the French Command felt that the men were being wasted and asked for them to be placed under their operational command. The 369th and Johnson were transferred to the French Command and immediately pressed into service in the Argonne Forest with 16th Division of the French 4th Army.

In the early hours of May 14th, 1918, Johnson was on guard duty with Private Needham Roberts when they were set upon by a German raiding party of at least two dozen men out to take prisoners for interrogation by intelligence agents. Johnson was shot in the chest with a shotgun and Roberts took two pistol rounds in the chest. The Germans scooped up Roberts and started to make their way back to their lines.

Staggering to his feet, Johnson began to fire at the retreating enemy, and then charged after them, still firing his Lebel rifle. When his weapon jammed, he started chucking grenades at them.  When he finally caught up to the Germans he clubbed them with his rifle butt until the rifle broke in half, then he used his bolo trench knife. He grabbed Roberts, and dragged his disabled comrade back to their post, still fighting off Germans along the way. During the course of the action, Johnson was wounded a staggering 21 times.

When French troops arrived a few hours later, they found Johnson and Roberts inside their post laughing and singing songs. They also found dead and dying German soldiers strewn about the ground.

Because of Johnson's extraordinary deeds and selfless determination to save his comrade Needham Roberts, France awarded him that nation's highest military honor, The French Croix de Guerre with Gold Palm. The citation for the award reads as follows:

"Johnson, Henry (13348), private in Company C, being on double sentry duty during the night and having been assaulted by a group composed of at least one dozen Germans, shot and disabled one of them and grievously wounded two others with his bolo. In spite of three wounds with pistol bullets and grenades at the beginning of the fight, this man ran to the assistance of his wounded comrade who was about to be carried away prisoner by the enemy, and continued to fight up to the retreat of the Germans. He has given a beautiful example of courage and activity."

Johnson with his Croix de Guerre

Upon Johnson's return to the United States, he received a ticker tape parade along New York City's Fifth Avenue. After hearing his story, former President Theodore Roosevelt proclaimed Johnson to be "one of the five bravest men who fought in World War I."

Johnson at the parade in his honor

 
Sent back to the States, the Army used Johnson as a recruiting tool to entice young black men into the service.  Sadly, unable to continue his job as a porter on the railroad because of his wounds, he became destitute and an alcoholic. He died penniless in a veterans hospital on July 5, 1929, penniless, estranged from his wife and family and without official recognition from the U.S. government. He is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. For years, his son Herman never even knew where his father was buried. Herman Archibald Johnson was himself a distinguished soldier, serving as a Major with the Tuskegee Airmen in WW2 and later served in the Missouri House of Representatives.

While France readily acknowledged Johnson's bravery with their highest award for valor, the American military never even awarded him a Purple Heart. That wasn't bestowed upon his family until June 1996. In February of 2003, Herman Johnson was presented with a Distinguished Service Cross for his father's service. A year later the younger Johnson also passed away at the age of 88. The DSC is the nation's second-highest award for valor.

Herman Johnson with his father's DSC

Black History Month: Alwyn Cashe

The story of Sergeant First Class Alwyn Cashe is a hero's tale, and a tale that is far from over despite his passing in 2005. There is an ongoing fight for Cashe to be awarded a posthumous Medal of Honor for his actions instead of the Silver Star that was presented to his family.

Alwyn Crendall Cashe was born July 13, 1970 in Oviedo, Florida. He joined the Army after graduating high school in 1988, and was a veteran of the First Gulf War in 1990/91. On his second tour of duty in Iraq, the Bradley vehicle he was in was hit by a roadside IED. Not initially hurt in the blast, he was however drenched in fuel, and that proved to be his undoing when he went back inside the ruined track to rescue his men. Burned badly, Cashe was transported to the burn center at Brooke Army Medical Center at Ft. Sam Houston in San Antonio, TX, where he succumbed to his wounds and died three weeks later.

One eyewitness account of the events are as follow:

As three Bradley fighting vehicles were rolling out the gate, Cashe’s broke down. Major Jimmy Hathaway, who as a Captain was the Company Commander, says  Cashe could have by all rights not gone on the mission due to that. Instead the sergeant went to another Bradley and told its gunner to take the bad one back to the base.

Trouble was about to erupt.

Half an hour after leaving the base, darkness and a sand storm obscured a  pressure-switch improvised explosive device in the Cashe Bradley’s path. The  ensuing blast resulted in fuel spewing everywhere as the vehicle erupted in  flames. Then the group came under fire from terrorists.

Cashe, injured and drenched in fuel, pulled himself out of the gunner’s hatch  and crawled down the Bradley to help the burned driver escape.

Still, the armored personnel carrier/tank killer was burning with six  soldiers and a translator inside.

With no concern about his own safety, Cashe rushed to the back of the vehicle  and tried to open the troop hatch door. He couldn’t, and it got worse; his  gas-soaked uniform went up in flames.

Inside the Bradley, Staff Sgt. Douglas Dodge popped the troop hatch door open  and stumbled outside, burned and dazed from a concussion. There he saw Cashe,  his uniform gone, his skin burned everywhere except where his helmet, body armor  and boots were.

 “Cashe said, ‘Where are the rest of the boys? We’ve got to get them out.’  Without even thinking, Cashe just went in there,” said Dodge, who followed  him.

Despite the horror scene, Cashe kept going, retrieving one injured and burned  soldier after another with Dodge’s help.

While the door had been opened by Dodge, the soldiers inside were too  battered to realize that. Cashe and Dodge battled flames and smoke and got all  six soldiers and the interpreter out. By the time a crew from a trailing Bradley  arrived to assist, Cashe had suffered burns over most of his body.

The Cashe-Dodge action helped save those six soldiers, three of whom would  die from complications resulting from their burns in the next few weeks. One  more died later indirectly from his injuries.

So did Cashe, in November 2005. He left behind a wife and three children ranging in ages from 6 to 12.

The three men who perished from their burns at Brooke were Staff Sergeant George Alexander Jr., 34, of Killeen Texas; Sergeant Michael Robertson, 28, of Houston; and Specialist Darren Howe, 21, of Beatrice, Nebraska.

To read the narrative of the Silver Star awarded to Cashe posthumously, it reads like the citation that accompanies a Medal of Honor.

Sergeant First Class Alwyn C. Cashe, United States Army, distinguished himself by exceptional gallantry in action in the face of violence while serving as the platoon sergeant of 1st Platoon, Alpha Company (Hard Rock) 1st Battalion, 15th Infantry Regiment, based at FOB Mackenzie, Salah a Din Province, Iraq.

On 17 October 2005 , SFC Alwyn Cashe's heroic actions saved the lives of six of his fellow soldiers. At approximately 1915 hrs, his platoon departed the forward operating base along Route Jaime to conduct a route clearance operation along a supply route that ran through the town of Duliaya; a town adjacent to the FOB.

After traveling about 4-5 kilometers, the lead Bradley fighting vehicle, of which SFC Cashe was in the gunner's hatch, struck a vehicle detonated IED emplaced across the route at grid MC 25377243. The blast ignited the fuel cell causing fuel to spew throughout the vehicle, igniting a fire and causing the vehicle to roll to a stop. Also, from the forward left flank of the blast site, the platoon received enemy small-arms fire.

Soaked with fuel himself, SFC Cashe managed to dismount from the vehicle and assist the driver, SPC Howe, whose uniform was on fire. SFC Cashe extinguished the flames on SPC Howe.

Six soldiers and an interpreter were in the troop compartment of the burning vehicle. Flames had engulfed the vehicle and were darting from the weapons ports. One of the soldiers in the back of the vehicle attempted to open the hatch door in an attempt to help the soldiers escape. The flames intensified and everyone inside was aflame. Without regard for his personal safety, SFC Cashe rushed to the back of the vehicle, managed to help open the door and began to pull the soldiers out, one at a time. In doing this, the flames totally gripped his fueled soaked uniform causing severe, painful burns. Despite this pain, he bravely continued to pull his troops out of the vehicle and feverishly worked to put their flames out. As the chaos continued, SFC Cashe noticed that the platoon medic was still inside. He rushed back to the vehicle, reached through the flames and pulled out the medic. All this despite being on fire himself.
Within moments, a trail vehicle arrived and assisted with the CASEVAC. Although severely burned, SFC Cashe bravely continued to take control of the situation as best he could. Shortly thereafter, the company first sergeant, 1SG Chris Mackenzie, accompanied by medics and other soldiers from the company arrived and began to evacuate the severely burned soldiers, the worst of which was SFC Cashe. The FOB helipad served as the LZ/PZ for the air evacuation. Badly burned, all six soldiers were alive when they were air evacuated. The interpreter did not survive the blast and was immediately transported to the battalion morgue.
Throughout the nightmarish ordeal, ten soldiers were injured. Six of the ten were treated at the Balad Hospital. Five of those six, including SFC Cashe were later evacuated through Landstuhl to the burn center in San Antonio, Texas. Sadly, over the next few weeks, four of the six died of wounds.

Despite being the most severely injured with 2nd and 3rd degree burns over 72% of his body, SFC Alwyn Cashe endured while his soldiers were alive. He suffered through painful surgeries, infections, organ failure and loss of body parts as he continued to be the consummate Platoon Sergeant to his soldiers. SFC Alwyn Cashe died of his wounds on 8 November 2005. He was the last of those so severely injured that terrible night to die.

SFC Cashe's selfless and gallant actions allowed the loved ones of these brave soldiers to spend precious time by their sides before each succumbed to their dreadful injuries.

Although he is no longer with us, SFC Alwyn C. Cashe is the type of hero that historians will write about.

His actions are in keeping with the finest traditions of military heroism and reflect greatly upon himself and the US Army.

Al Cashe was initially put in for the Silver Star after the action, and the award came through three days after he passed, but at the time of the award, those higher up the chain were unaware that the incident occured while under direct small arms fire from the enemy as well, which is why it was a Silver Star that was awarded.  Several generals and an Army historian are spearheading a continuing effort to get the award upgraded to the Medal of Honor. Stay tuned for updates.

Black History Month: Clifford C. Sims

Clifford Sims, as a Specialist 4 with the 82d Airborne

Clifford Pittman was born June 8th, 1942 in Port St. Joe, Florida. Orphaned at an early age, he was adopted at the age of 13 by James & Irene Sims and took their surname. After graduating high school in Jacksonville, he joined the Army and later that year married his high school sweetheart, Mary.

In the summer of 1967, Sims was assigned to Delta Company, 2d Battalion, 501st Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 101st Airborne Division at Fort Campbell, Kentucky and deployed to Vietnam with the company. On February 21, 1968 Staff Sergeant Sims found himself engaged with enemy forces near Hue City when someone triggered a booby trap. Sims threw himself onto the device, absorbing the blast with his body and saving his squad in the process.

An eyewitness account of the action stated that, "Before the squad reached their destination they encountered a bunker, and SSG Sims took it upon himself to see if it was empty. As he moved forward a booby trap went off and everybody froze. But SSG Sims shouted a warning then dove on it, fatally wounding him. However he had covered the blast with his own body, and thus saved the lives of those in the area..."

Another account stated, "[Sims] also saved his squad by moving them quickly out of the way of a house filled with ammunition which was burning. Just as he got his men away the house blew up. Then on moving toward a bunker a booby trap was set off, and Sgt Sims yelled for everybody to get back, but before they could he threw himself on the device taking the entire blast to save his squad from complete disaster. In so doing he gave up his own life. Each and every man of the 2nd Squad owes his very life to this man.."

Clifford Sims was just 25 when he gave his life in defense of his country and his fellow soldiers. For his bravery under fire, he was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor. The citation for his medal reads as follows:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. S/Sgt. Sims distinguished himself while serving as a squad leader with Company D. Company D was assaulting a heavily fortified enemy position concealed within a dense wooded area when it encountered strong enemy defensive fire. Once within the woodline, S/Sgt. Sims led his squad in a furious attack against an enemy force which had pinned down the 1st Platoon and threatened to overrun it. His skillful leadership provided the platoon with freedom of movement and enabled it to regain the initiative. S/Sgt. Sims was then ordered to move his squad to a position where he could provide covering fire for the company command group and to link up with the 3rd Platoon, which was under heavy enemy pressure. After moving no more than 30 meters S/Sgt. Sims noticed that a brick structure in which ammunition was stocked was on fire. Realizing the danger, S/Sgt. Sims took immediate action to move his squad from this position. Though in the process of leaving the area 2 members of his squad were injured by the subsequent explosion of the ammunition, S/Sgt. Sims' prompt actions undoubtedly prevented more serious casualties from occurring. While continuing through the dense woods amidst heavy enemy fire, S/Sgt. Sims and his squad were approaching a bunker when they heard the unmistakable noise of a concealed booby trap being triggered immediately to their front. S/Sgt. Sims warned his comrades of the danger and unhesitatingly hurled himself upon the device as it exploded, taking the full impact of the blast. In so protecting his fellow soldiers, he willingly sacrificed his life. S/Sgt. Sims' extraordinary heroism at the cost of his life is in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflects great credit upon himself and the U.S. Army.

SSG Sims is buried in Barrancas National Cemetery in Pensacola, Florida.

The widow of Clifford Sims receives his Medal of Honor from Vice President Spiro Agnew

Revisiting Black History Month, my way

It's not Black History; it's AMERICAN History for all races

It's been 25 years since I graduated high school. As an elementary/middle school kid in the Maryland suburbs around Washington, DC we covered Black History Month pretty well every year. It was covered less in high school in Maine, probably in part due to the fact we had maybe 4 black kids in the school. Of course, we always covered the standard figures one expects to find in Black History Month, the George Washington Carvers, the Martin Luther Kings, the Frederick Douglasses, the Harriet Tubmans...

Nowadays, it seems that instead of decent role models from American history, American kids in general and black kids in particular, are cleaving towards thug-life rappers and sports figures.

Two years ago I challenged myself to highlight an inspirational black American that I felt needed to be showcased, not just as a role model for kids but as historically significant Americans who were being overlooked by the left-leaning educational system that indoctrinates our kids.

I'm going to add a few more in the next few days, but in the meantime in case you missed it, here are links to the ones you missed from February 2011.

Black History Month, my way.

The Tuskegee Airmen

Robert H. Jenkins

Lawrence Joel

Joe D'Acosta

Oscar P. Austin

Clarence Sasser

Charles Rogers

Riley Pitts

Vernon Baker

Carl Brashear

Dorie Miller

Milton Olive

Jesse Brown

James Anderson

Ruben Rivers

Russell Honore

John Warren

John Fox

Freddie Stowers

Quincy Green

Ron McNair

Charles Thomas

Cornelius Charlton

Webster Anderson

Ralph Johnson

Garfield Langhorn

And my wrap up open letter to Black America

Wrapping up Black History Month: An Open Letter to Young Black America

As you'll recall, back at the beginning of the month I said that I was going to post up the story of one inspirational black American per day for the entire month. I am a man of my word, and you will find 27 stories here in my archives for this month. Today is the 28th of February, and I should have a 28th story.

Who is my 28th inspirational black American?

It's YOU.

Say again?

Yeah, you. The young black kid who's reading this article. Maybe you've been following my posts this month. Maybe you found me by accident while doing a project for school. Maybe you were surfing Google for things like "domination" and my clever blog title came up.

Regardless of how you got here, you're here. And now I have a mission for you.

Get off your ass and become someone. Don't play the Victim Card. Don't play the Race Card. Don't expect people to just give you everything out of some bullshit notion of entitlement or guilt.

Go to school. Graduate. Make plans. Follow through on them. Be somebody. Make your own destiny.

Why?

Not because some middle-aged white guy said so.

Why?

Because generations of your forebears gave their all so that you could have an opportunity to be more than whatever you see on TV or in some magazine, some thug in baggy pants waving a Glock, or somebody's Baby Daddy on Maury, some mumbling rapper with fake gold teeth riding around in a 400 dollar car with 5000 dollar rims while you live in your grandma's basement. Don't become a statistic. Don't stain the legacy of those who came before you to give you a chance.

Note that I didn't call you African American. You're an American. If you insist on being called African American I'm going to insist you refer to me as a European American, and that's just goofy. I'm white, you're black, and we're both Americans. Stop using labels of convenience when it suits you. I notice that the NAACP hasn't changed its name from the hated "colored people" term, and currently the first thing you see on their front page is a request for donations, asking for your money before they tell you how they'll help you advance. It's Black History Month and the Black Pages phone directory of black-owned businesses and the annual Black Business Expo in Charleston, SC. It's considered racist to say "Negro" these days unless you're accepting your scholarship money from the United Negro College Fund, ironically easily spent at a black college because a school that calls itself a white college would be racist.

I live in a town riddled with gangs and gun violence, most of it black-on-black. Every day I look across the street at the gaggle of unemployed guys who gather to play horseshoes, smoke blunts, and share their music with everyone in a 1,000-yard radius, guys who have no jobs yet always seem to have money for rims and stereo gear and gold chains and gold teeth and new Timberlands. Guys who just stare at me like I'm insane for waving hi and expecting an acknowledgment of a greeting after almost 7 years of being their neighbor.

Why did I choose the 27 stories that I featured? Because they all shared common threads: honor, courage, dignity, a sense of duty, a sense of sacrifice for their fellows, no matter who they were. Many of them died protecting others, saving the lives of their comrades and friends. They gave everything they had and expected nothing in return. They weren't overpaid sports stars whining about their multimillion dollar contracts or no-talent rappers with Auto-Tune wearing sunglasses 24/7, seeing how many times they can drop an F-bomb or say "Nigga" while talking about making it rain.

If you require a role model, choose wisely. Don't pick an athlete who makes 20 million a year and cries for more money every year and signs with whoever will pay the most, showing loyalty to no one but his bank account while he kills dogs or shoots himself in the leg at a club with an illegal gun or gets killed by a girlfriend while his wife and kids are at home. Don't pick some rapper who makes nonsensical noise on someone else's samples from real artists and shows off his money on MTV Cribs when he's not doing time on gun charges.

You can be anything you want to be. So this is my challenge to you, young black America. Go inspire me. Go become my 28th story. I'm not saying go get killed. I'm saying to use the examples of those who gave their full measure to achieve your maximum potential. Nothing is holding you back but you. Make your mom proud. Make your family proud. Make me proud to be an American with you.

Give freely of yourself and expect nothing back, and you'll be rewarded tenfold. Go be someone. Go make history.

Black History Month: Garfield Langhorn

Garfield McConnell Langhorn was born September 10, 1948 in Cumberland, Virginia

Langhorn joined the Army in Brooklyn, New York, and by January 15, 1969 was serving as a Private First Class in Troop C, 7th Squadron (Airmobile), 17th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Aviation Brigade. On that day, two men of C Troop, 1LT Sterling Edward Cox and WO1 James Birch Petteys, went down when their AH-1G Cobra gunship was shot down.

First Lieutenant Sterling Cox and Warrant Officer James Petteys

The gunship had crashed on a heavily forested slope. Other men of C Troop were promptly inserted to rescue Cox and Petteys. After working their way through the jungle to the crash site, they found both crewmen dead. They removed the bodies in order to carry them back to the landing zone.

While enroute to the LZ, the rescue forces came under heavy fire and in short order were surrounded. In the ensuing battle, PFC Garland Langhorn distinguished himself by covering an enemy hand grenade that had been thrown near several wounded soldiers with his own body in order to save his comrades from death or injury. He was killed in the explosion, but succeeded in protecting the lives of his fellow soldiers.

Garland Langhorn was the only one of the rescue party who died. His body, together with those of Lieutenant Cox and Warrant Officer Petteys, was brought out by the other men of C Troop.

Garfield Langhorn, aged 20 years at his death, was buried in Riverhead Cemetery, Riverhead, New York.

Mary Langhorn, mother of Garfield Langhorn, at a ceremony dedicating the Riverhead Post Office in honor of her son. The portrait of him is by artist Gerald Slater of New York City and hangs in the Riverhead Post Office.

Private Langhorn's Medal of Honor Citation reads as follows:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. PFC. Langhorn distinguished himself while serving as a radio operator with Troop C, near Plei Djereng in Pleiku province. PFC Langhorn's platoon was inserted into a landing zone to rescue 2 pilots of a Cobra helicopter shot down by enemy fire on a heavily timbered slope. He provided radio coordination with the command-and-control aircraft overhead while the troops hacked their way through dense undergrowth to the wreckage, where both aviators were found dead. As the men were taking the bodies to a pickup site, they suddenly came under intense fire from North Vietnamese soldiers in camouflaged bunkers to the front and right flank, and within minutes they were surrounded. PFC Langhorn immediately radioed for help from the orbiting gunships, which began to place minigun and rocket fire on the aggressors. He then lay between the platoon leader and another man, operating the radio and providing covering fire for the wounded who had been moved to the center of the small perimeter. Darkness soon fell, making it impossible for the gunships to give accurate support, and the aggressors began to probe the perimeter. An enemy hand grenade landed in front of PFC Langhorn and a few feet from personnel who had become casualties. Choosing to protect these wounded, he unhesitatingly threw himself on the grenade, scooped it beneath his body and absorbed the blast. By sacrificing himself, he saved the lives of his comrades. PFC Langhorn's extraordinary heroism at the cost of his life was in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit on himself, his unit, and the U.S. Army.