thedrifter
12-03-03, 08:15 AM
Issue Date: December 08, 2003
Book Review
Heroism defined: Book emphasizes valor, dedication
By Walter F. Ulmer Jr.
Special to the Times
“Medal of Honor: Portraits of Valor Beyond the Call of Duty,” written by Peter Collier with photographs by Nick Del Calzo, describes the lives and heroic actions of 116 Medal of Honor recipients.
We are fortunate that Collier and Del Calzo were able to capture these rich segments of American history. The high quality of the prose is matched by the elegance of the photography, making the book uncommonly inspirational.
Combat provides the background, but the central theme is the remarkable capacity of the human spirit to rise to the challenge of the moment, putting others before self.
“Medal of Honor” provides a glimpse of history and sociology from the late 1930s to the 1970s. Fascinating stories describe the anxiety during the Great Depression, the trials and triumphs of Japanese-Americans during World War II, the struggle of black Americans to claim their place in the military and comments from five presidents during Medal of Honor award ceremonies — including Harry Truman’s famous “I’d rather have one of these than be president” and a recipient’s unspoken thought at the time, “I’d rather be president!”
Conspicuous in the book is the character of the recipients, whose deeds were spectacular and whose personalities remain healthy and decent. Immigrants, high-school dropouts, university graduates, draftees and career soldiers, their stories are presented in alphabetical order from Lucian Adams to Jay Zeamer. There are 116 descriptions of raw courage that led to these awards, whose approval process requires two confirming eyewitnesses and extensive supporting data, then vetting through a bureaucracy intent on preserving the medal’s reputation.
Between Adams and Zeamer, there is Robert Bush who, as a Navy corpsman at the terrible battle for Okinawa, Japan, went from one wounded Marine to another, at one point holding a plasma bottle with one hand and firing at the enemy with the other. Later, wounded and blinded in one eye, he picked up a rifle, circled behind gun crews who were raking his unit with fire, killed all of the opposing force and, like so many others in this book, refused medical treatment until the other wounded were evacuated.
And there is Hector Cafferata, a Marine reservist who didn’t want to miss the war, skipped boot camp and went directly to Korea. After defending his unit against a massive Chinese assault, grabbing weapons from fallen Marines, ignoring his wounds, batting back grenades with his entrenching tool, fighting through the subfreezing night in socks and shirt, he was back home when he heard of his award. He asked that it be sent to him by mail, a request that was denied.
Alfred Rascon was born in Mexico, moved to California and wanted to be a paratrooper. During a fierce firefight in Vietnam, the Army specialist disobeyed orders to stay sheltered and dragged several soldiers to safety. Painfully wounded a number times, he refused morphine so he could continue to function. When a grenade landed nearby, he threw his body over another soldier to protect him. Only later did he become an American citizen.
But these tidbits do not do justice to the stories. While the book is a collection of discrete heroics, there is a powerful continuum of dedication and commitment that makes it a coherent package.
There is a convenient glossary of military terms, a history of the medal — it never officially has been called the Congressional Medal of Honor — and other information on the American armed forces.
Reading “Medal of Honor” can be an exhilarating antidote to today’s cynicism. It is impossible to read the book without pausing to reflect on how well each of us has met the first order of business in the human community: to give sufficiently of ourselves to benefit the greater good.
There is an aura of reverence that comes from these pages. “Medal of Honor” contains such precious, almost spiritual, material that you will want to return it to the shelf very gently.
Walter F. Ulmer Jr. is a retired Army lieutenant general.
Medal of Honor: Portraits of Valor Beyond the Call of Duty. Text by Peter Collier; photographs by Nick Del Calzo. Artisan. 253 pages, $40.
http://www.marinecorpstimes.com/story.php?f=0-MARINEPAPER-2431152.php
Sempers,
Roger
:marine:
Book Review
Heroism defined: Book emphasizes valor, dedication
By Walter F. Ulmer Jr.
Special to the Times
“Medal of Honor: Portraits of Valor Beyond the Call of Duty,” written by Peter Collier with photographs by Nick Del Calzo, describes the lives and heroic actions of 116 Medal of Honor recipients.
We are fortunate that Collier and Del Calzo were able to capture these rich segments of American history. The high quality of the prose is matched by the elegance of the photography, making the book uncommonly inspirational.
Combat provides the background, but the central theme is the remarkable capacity of the human spirit to rise to the challenge of the moment, putting others before self.
“Medal of Honor” provides a glimpse of history and sociology from the late 1930s to the 1970s. Fascinating stories describe the anxiety during the Great Depression, the trials and triumphs of Japanese-Americans during World War II, the struggle of black Americans to claim their place in the military and comments from five presidents during Medal of Honor award ceremonies — including Harry Truman’s famous “I’d rather have one of these than be president” and a recipient’s unspoken thought at the time, “I’d rather be president!”
Conspicuous in the book is the character of the recipients, whose deeds were spectacular and whose personalities remain healthy and decent. Immigrants, high-school dropouts, university graduates, draftees and career soldiers, their stories are presented in alphabetical order from Lucian Adams to Jay Zeamer. There are 116 descriptions of raw courage that led to these awards, whose approval process requires two confirming eyewitnesses and extensive supporting data, then vetting through a bureaucracy intent on preserving the medal’s reputation.
Between Adams and Zeamer, there is Robert Bush who, as a Navy corpsman at the terrible battle for Okinawa, Japan, went from one wounded Marine to another, at one point holding a plasma bottle with one hand and firing at the enemy with the other. Later, wounded and blinded in one eye, he picked up a rifle, circled behind gun crews who were raking his unit with fire, killed all of the opposing force and, like so many others in this book, refused medical treatment until the other wounded were evacuated.
And there is Hector Cafferata, a Marine reservist who didn’t want to miss the war, skipped boot camp and went directly to Korea. After defending his unit against a massive Chinese assault, grabbing weapons from fallen Marines, ignoring his wounds, batting back grenades with his entrenching tool, fighting through the subfreezing night in socks and shirt, he was back home when he heard of his award. He asked that it be sent to him by mail, a request that was denied.
Alfred Rascon was born in Mexico, moved to California and wanted to be a paratrooper. During a fierce firefight in Vietnam, the Army specialist disobeyed orders to stay sheltered and dragged several soldiers to safety. Painfully wounded a number times, he refused morphine so he could continue to function. When a grenade landed nearby, he threw his body over another soldier to protect him. Only later did he become an American citizen.
But these tidbits do not do justice to the stories. While the book is a collection of discrete heroics, there is a powerful continuum of dedication and commitment that makes it a coherent package.
There is a convenient glossary of military terms, a history of the medal — it never officially has been called the Congressional Medal of Honor — and other information on the American armed forces.
Reading “Medal of Honor” can be an exhilarating antidote to today’s cynicism. It is impossible to read the book without pausing to reflect on how well each of us has met the first order of business in the human community: to give sufficiently of ourselves to benefit the greater good.
There is an aura of reverence that comes from these pages. “Medal of Honor” contains such precious, almost spiritual, material that you will want to return it to the shelf very gently.
Walter F. Ulmer Jr. is a retired Army lieutenant general.
Medal of Honor: Portraits of Valor Beyond the Call of Duty. Text by Peter Collier; photographs by Nick Del Calzo. Artisan. 253 pages, $40.
http://www.marinecorpstimes.com/story.php?f=0-MARINEPAPER-2431152.php
Sempers,
Roger
:marine: