thedrifter
09-11-07, 05:50 AM
Jason Dunham's Life Of Honor
Peter Benesh
Mon Sep 10, 7:00 PM ET
In an interview with IBD earlier this year, Gen. Colin Powell explained the dedication of young Americans serving in the Iraq War.
"Why are they doing it? How can they hold together under these circumstances? They do it because they trust their leaders and they do it for each other."
He could have been talking about Jason Dunham.
In a grim firefight with terrorists on April 14, 2004, the 22-year-old Marine corporal covered a grenade with his helmet and body.
He saved the lives of two buddies, but his own wounds were fatal. He died at Bethesda (Md.) Naval Hospital eight days later. His parents were at his side.
At a White House ceremony last January, President Bush presented them with their son's Medal of Honor. The medal's citation describes the fight:
"Their battalion commander's convoy had been ambushed as it was returning to the battalion command post at Camp Husaybah. Corporal Dunham immediately ordered his Combined Anti-Armor Team to advance toward the engagement to provide fire support.
"They were immediately barraged with enemy fire and Corporal Dunham ordered the vehicles dismounted and led one of his fire teams several blocks south of the ambushed convoy. There they discovered seven Iraqi vehicles in a column attempting to depart."
Hand-To-Hand Combat
The citation continues: "Corporal Dunham ordered his Marines to block their movement. As they approached the vehicles, an Iraqi insurgent leaped out and grabbed Corporal Dunham by the throat.
"In the ensuing struggle, Corporal Dunham noticed the Iraqi insurgent had a grenade ... and immediately alerted his fellow Marines as he wrestled the Iraqi to the ground.
"Aware of the imminent danger to his Marines and without hesitation, Corporal Dunham threw himself on the grenade and used his body to bear the brunt of the explosion, shielding his Marines from the blast."
Dunham is the second serviceman and first Marine to receive the Medal of Honor since the U.S.-led invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. His act of self-sacrifice was no surprise to family and friends.
Dunham's bravery began before that terrorist grenade. He didn't have to be in Iraq, says his friend Mark Dean, a Marine sergeant.
Dunham, unmarried, had extended his tour of duty.
"I told him, 'We're going to bad places,'" Dean told IBD. "He looked me in the eye and said, 'I want to make sure you and all the rest of the guys can go home and be with your wives and families.' It takes a special person to stay there to make sure his guys make it home alive. I was in the Humvee when he jumped on that damn grenade."
Debra Dunham says her son's brave leap came from his values.
"We knew that was something he would do," she said in an IBD interview. "We knew if something happened he would be there to protect the men he was serving with."
Jason put others first long before he joined the Marines at age 17, she says. "He had a respect for people and knew what was right and what was wrong."
And why the Marines? "Because they were the hardest and took on the most difficult tasks," she said. "He liked the challenge."
Growing up in Scio, N.Y., a town of 1,900 people, helped Jason embrace loyalty and fairness, Debra Dunham says. "He embodied the essence of the good American kid."
Putting others first was his hallmark, she says. He did that with his two younger brothers and sister.
The family can take some credit for imparting ethics, she says. "But parents can only go so far teaching kids. When they leave home, they have to embrace what they believe."
Even in school, he had his own moral code. Young Jason was not afraid to champion the underdog against schoolyard bullies, she says. "But not many would mess with him, he was so big."
Topping out at 6 feet 1 inch, he took advantage of his size to play high school sports. He excelled at soccer, basketball and baseball. One season he set a home run record.
His love of sports helped make up for a deficit: Academics "didn't come easy to him," his mom said.
Yet he had to maintain his grades or forget participating in sports. He took team playing to heart, she says.
That spirit went with him to Iraq, Dean says.
"On one patrol, we set up a security perimeter because Jason wanted to play soccer with the local kids," the sergeant recalled. He adds that on every patrol, Dunham handed out candy to the kids tagging along.
"He had the makings of a great leader," Dean said. "He was respected by every Marine, and he showed them the respect they deserved."
Other Marines knew they could trust him, Dean says. "Nobody ever questioned his judgment."
Dunham made a huge impression, even with strangers, says David Kniess, producer of a documentary about him called "American Son."
The two had sat next to each other on a cross-country red-eye flight.
"You don't meet this kind of person very often," Kniess said. "He was the kind of kid you just wanted to know."
Dunham's "million-dollar smile" breached the gulf of their age difference, Kniess said. The Marine was half his age.
Kniess had been a Navy boatswain on the missile cruiser Normandy.
"When we changed planes in Pittsburgh I told him to take care of himself," Kniess said. "He just smiled and gave me a look that said, 'Don't worry about it.'"
For his fellow Marines, Dunham's death was "very personal," said Mark Moyar, a historian at Marine Corps University in Quantico, Va.
"Marines value that selflessness," he said. "They cherish being part of something larger than themselves."
Dunham would have had a bright future in the Marine Corps had he stayed in, Moyar says. "He embodied dedication."
The Dunham Legacy
Dean says he still feels Dunham's presence: "I talk to him and I believe he watched over me in my third time in Iraq."
A mortar round landed next to Dean, but he was unhurt. "It should have got me," he said.
Dean has applied for officer training and plans to become a helicopter pilot. The inspiration came from Dunham's example, he says.
Dunham also inspired Neil Kenney to launch, with Kniess, a scholarship fund in the fallen Marine's honor. Kenney, who never met Dunham, fought in the Vietnam War as a 19-year-old Marine corporal.
"When this kid went down, it brought back memories," Kenney said. "I had to do something."
The college scholarship will go to Marines with the kind of leadership and service that Dunham showed.
Jason's greatest quality? "He had a big heart," Debra Dunham said. "He made us better people too."
Dunham epitomized what Colin Powell called "the bond of trust and loyalty" that comes from knowing "the importance of your buddy keeping you alive and you keeping him alive."
Ellie
Peter Benesh
Mon Sep 10, 7:00 PM ET
In an interview with IBD earlier this year, Gen. Colin Powell explained the dedication of young Americans serving in the Iraq War.
"Why are they doing it? How can they hold together under these circumstances? They do it because they trust their leaders and they do it for each other."
He could have been talking about Jason Dunham.
In a grim firefight with terrorists on April 14, 2004, the 22-year-old Marine corporal covered a grenade with his helmet and body.
He saved the lives of two buddies, but his own wounds were fatal. He died at Bethesda (Md.) Naval Hospital eight days later. His parents were at his side.
At a White House ceremony last January, President Bush presented them with their son's Medal of Honor. The medal's citation describes the fight:
"Their battalion commander's convoy had been ambushed as it was returning to the battalion command post at Camp Husaybah. Corporal Dunham immediately ordered his Combined Anti-Armor Team to advance toward the engagement to provide fire support.
"They were immediately barraged with enemy fire and Corporal Dunham ordered the vehicles dismounted and led one of his fire teams several blocks south of the ambushed convoy. There they discovered seven Iraqi vehicles in a column attempting to depart."
Hand-To-Hand Combat
The citation continues: "Corporal Dunham ordered his Marines to block their movement. As they approached the vehicles, an Iraqi insurgent leaped out and grabbed Corporal Dunham by the throat.
"In the ensuing struggle, Corporal Dunham noticed the Iraqi insurgent had a grenade ... and immediately alerted his fellow Marines as he wrestled the Iraqi to the ground.
"Aware of the imminent danger to his Marines and without hesitation, Corporal Dunham threw himself on the grenade and used his body to bear the brunt of the explosion, shielding his Marines from the blast."
Dunham is the second serviceman and first Marine to receive the Medal of Honor since the U.S.-led invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. His act of self-sacrifice was no surprise to family and friends.
Dunham's bravery began before that terrorist grenade. He didn't have to be in Iraq, says his friend Mark Dean, a Marine sergeant.
Dunham, unmarried, had extended his tour of duty.
"I told him, 'We're going to bad places,'" Dean told IBD. "He looked me in the eye and said, 'I want to make sure you and all the rest of the guys can go home and be with your wives and families.' It takes a special person to stay there to make sure his guys make it home alive. I was in the Humvee when he jumped on that damn grenade."
Debra Dunham says her son's brave leap came from his values.
"We knew that was something he would do," she said in an IBD interview. "We knew if something happened he would be there to protect the men he was serving with."
Jason put others first long before he joined the Marines at age 17, she says. "He had a respect for people and knew what was right and what was wrong."
And why the Marines? "Because they were the hardest and took on the most difficult tasks," she said. "He liked the challenge."
Growing up in Scio, N.Y., a town of 1,900 people, helped Jason embrace loyalty and fairness, Debra Dunham says. "He embodied the essence of the good American kid."
Putting others first was his hallmark, she says. He did that with his two younger brothers and sister.
The family can take some credit for imparting ethics, she says. "But parents can only go so far teaching kids. When they leave home, they have to embrace what they believe."
Even in school, he had his own moral code. Young Jason was not afraid to champion the underdog against schoolyard bullies, she says. "But not many would mess with him, he was so big."
Topping out at 6 feet 1 inch, he took advantage of his size to play high school sports. He excelled at soccer, basketball and baseball. One season he set a home run record.
His love of sports helped make up for a deficit: Academics "didn't come easy to him," his mom said.
Yet he had to maintain his grades or forget participating in sports. He took team playing to heart, she says.
That spirit went with him to Iraq, Dean says.
"On one patrol, we set up a security perimeter because Jason wanted to play soccer with the local kids," the sergeant recalled. He adds that on every patrol, Dunham handed out candy to the kids tagging along.
"He had the makings of a great leader," Dean said. "He was respected by every Marine, and he showed them the respect they deserved."
Other Marines knew they could trust him, Dean says. "Nobody ever questioned his judgment."
Dunham made a huge impression, even with strangers, says David Kniess, producer of a documentary about him called "American Son."
The two had sat next to each other on a cross-country red-eye flight.
"You don't meet this kind of person very often," Kniess said. "He was the kind of kid you just wanted to know."
Dunham's "million-dollar smile" breached the gulf of their age difference, Kniess said. The Marine was half his age.
Kniess had been a Navy boatswain on the missile cruiser Normandy.
"When we changed planes in Pittsburgh I told him to take care of himself," Kniess said. "He just smiled and gave me a look that said, 'Don't worry about it.'"
For his fellow Marines, Dunham's death was "very personal," said Mark Moyar, a historian at Marine Corps University in Quantico, Va.
"Marines value that selflessness," he said. "They cherish being part of something larger than themselves."
Dunham would have had a bright future in the Marine Corps had he stayed in, Moyar says. "He embodied dedication."
The Dunham Legacy
Dean says he still feels Dunham's presence: "I talk to him and I believe he watched over me in my third time in Iraq."
A mortar round landed next to Dean, but he was unhurt. "It should have got me," he said.
Dean has applied for officer training and plans to become a helicopter pilot. The inspiration came from Dunham's example, he says.
Dunham also inspired Neil Kenney to launch, with Kniess, a scholarship fund in the fallen Marine's honor. Kenney, who never met Dunham, fought in the Vietnam War as a 19-year-old Marine corporal.
"When this kid went down, it brought back memories," Kenney said. "I had to do something."
The college scholarship will go to Marines with the kind of leadership and service that Dunham showed.
Jason's greatest quality? "He had a big heart," Debra Dunham said. "He made us better people too."
Dunham epitomized what Colin Powell called "the bond of trust and loyalty" that comes from knowing "the importance of your buddy keeping you alive and you keeping him alive."
Ellie