Behind every Medal of Honor, stories of love and sacrifice

On March 27, President Trump will award the Medal of Honor to Army Staff Sgt. Travis Atkins, who made the ultimate sacrifice when he put himself between his fellow soldiers and a suicide bomber in Iraq 12 years ago.

Atkins was attempting to subdue a suspected insurgent on June 1, 2007, when he saw the man move to trigger his suicide vest. “Atkins tackled him, selflessly using his own body to shield his fellow soldiers from the imminent explosion,” the White House statement says. “Atkins’ heroic actions, at the cost of his life, saved the lives of three of his teammates.”

The Washington Post reported that Atkins’ Humvee driver saw the sergeant “engulf his opponent in a bear hug, lift him off the ground, and slam back down. Then [the driver] heard, saw and felt the explosion, and both men vanished.”

The Medal of Honor is the nation’s highest award for valor against an enemy force. Of the tens of millions who have served in the U.S. Armed Forces since former President Abraham Lincoln approved the legislation creating the medal in 1862, just 3,504 men and one woman have been singled out for this distinction.

In almost all cases, the recipients put themselves at risk to save others. More than half of the recipients since World War II lost their lives in the attempt.

Atkins’ Medal of Honor will be the fifth presented for actions during the War in Iraq. The other four also were awarded posthumously. The sacrifices of three of those men bear a haunting resemblance to Atkins’ own. Marine Cpl. Jason Dunham, Army PFC Ross McGinnis, and Navy Petty Officer 2nd Class Michael Monsoor all lost their lives while protecting others from a grenade blast.

Three recipients who performed similarly in Afghanistan fared differently. Lance Cpl. William Carpenter stepped between a grenade and his fellow Marines. Army Staff Sgt. Leroy Petry hurled away a grenade that had landed among his Rangers, losing his right hand when it exploded. Army Capt. Florent Groberg thwarted a suicide bomber by pushing him away from U.S. forces before his vest detonated. All three of those men survived.

Such actions are often described as “above and beyond the call of duty.” Yet, the recipients will say that countless others have performed their duties, are performing them now, just as gallantly. The same fates that decide whom to spare in battle also make the same, seemingly random call on bestowing accolades. Thus, recipients wear their medals in honor of all who go unrecognized, especially those who never made it home to their loved ones.

Today is Medal of Honor Day. March 25 marks the date in 1863 when the first of these medals was awarded. It also falls, appropriately, during Lent, 40 days of reflection and sacrifice that begin with Ash Wednesday’s stark reminder of our mortality — “From dust you came and to dust you shall return” — and near their end on Good Friday, when Christ gave the ultimate example of fearlessly offering himself for others.

Medal of Honor recipients fully understand that example.

During a ceremony last year in the 42-acre Medal of Honor Grove in Valley Forge, Pa., one speaker said: “Why did these recipients do what they did? … Love. Read the citations that accompany the awarding of the Medal. They are not about war. They’re about love.”

When Travis Atkins’ citation of sacrifice and love is read at the White House, his son Trevor will be there to accept the Medal of Honor. Just as, at age 11, he stood graveside and accepted the folded flag from his father’s coffin. Then, the young man raised his right hand and saluted.

On March 27, the nation will return that salute.

Kevin Ferris is vice president of communications at Freedoms Foundation at Valley Forge, home to the Medal of Honor Grove.

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