Marine Sgt. Dakota Meyer with President Obama
By Art Harris, The Bald Truth, (c) www.artharris.com, all rights reserved
When you hear what Marine Sgt. Dakota Meyer did on the battlefield in remote Eastern Afghanistan, it sounds like some Hollywood war movie gone wild, written by a screenwriter who had to be smoking something. But it’s not.
Two years ago, then Cpl. Meyer, later promoted, was 21 when he ignored orders to play it safe and set out in the dark in a soon to be bullet-riddled Humvee to rescue fellow Marines and Afghan fighters pinned down or wounded by withering Taliban fire that decimated his unit.
Standing by Meyer Thursday, President Obama read the hero’s tale, which just sounded so Super Heroic, some may have wondered, could one Marine do all THAT? To hear him tell it, a young corporal heard Marines radio for help after they were ambushed a mile away, ignored officers’ orders to stay put, that it was too dangerous, and raced into the “kill zone” to haul out the wounded, the bleeding and dying. Not once, not twice…but 5 TIMES. In all Meyer rescued 23 Afghans and 13 Americans.
Shooting all the way in, according to the report, Meyer manned the machine gun as his driver floored the Humvee.
On the last trip, Meyer ran into withering fire on foot, as choppers finally arrived to provide some cover, and carried out bodies of four Marines who died scrambling for cover, so they could be buried back home.
Standing ramrod straight in his dress blues, rows of ribbons on his chest, Meyer listened almost stone-faced as his commander in chief read his heroics aloud, reminding me of the movie, “Captain America.” He said he’d phoned Meyer on the job in Kentucky to tell him he would receive the nation’s highest honor, but Meyer declined to take the call. He was working. he told the President to call back on his lunch break.
“He told me, ‘If I don’t work, I don’t get paid,'” Obama told the crowd in the elegant White House East Room. “Dakota is the kind of guy who gets the job done.”
On hand were his father, grandparents and 120 family and friends.
Meyer is only the third service member to earn the Medal of Honor for serving in Afghanistan or Iraq, and the first living Marine to have earned the honor since 1973.
Meyer has said he doesn’t feel like a hero, but a “failure” because he couldn’t save all his men, and insisted everyone who didn’t make it be honored in their home towns and that his fellow Marines from the unit be recognized at the White House ceremony, as well, and so it was.
Obama reassured Meyer he was hardly a failure, that 36 people were alive because of his actions. Meyer didn’t make a statement, but his Twitter account echoed his humility: “A sincere thank you to everyone who has reached out today. Semper Fi.”
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What sounds amazing to many isn’t so amazing if you’ve had the chance to hang with young Marines under fire — as their steely resolve, character and training kick into play, and the tracers inch closer to the 7 ton ammo truck in the darkness.
“Mr. Harris, get out of the truck, and run!” yelled Cpl Sanchez, 20, so I did.
“Follow me…get behind the berm…”
What started out as enemy AKs had suddenly turned into just as deadly friendly fire — until a smart young Army captain in artillery realized three hours later, we were in his grid and sent up white flares to signal a cease fire.
I got to thank him, too, months later at the U.S. Army War College, where i was asked to speak and roll tape I’d shot that night along the Euphrates.
It was dark except for a burning oil well in the blackness as 20 mm cannons on the Marine’s LAVs (Light Armored Vehicles) boomed, the tracers kept getting lower and all hell broke lose. Our machine gunner was on rock and roll atop the cab of the truck, unleashing the 50 cal. as its hot shell casings ejected onto my lap. I kept thinking, “Great souvenirs to bring home.” But they were too hot to touch…
By then, the tracers were getting closer, and the machine gunner dropped down onto my lap, nice young kid from South Carolina who raised pit bulls that growled loudly, but not as loud as the driver.
“Caldwell, get back up and keep shooting or we all gonna f—ing die!”
So he did.
Yep, guys in second LAR saved my tail and each other more than once in bloody Nasirya…like other soldiers in other units across Iraq during the invasion who kept other embeds safe. We owe you all for helping us do our jobs —– tell your stories of courage and humanity, like the two pups rescued from the rubble you ferried across the desert as mascots, feeding MREs.
So for those I may have personally forgotten to thank…Thank you! All of you…
That means you, too, SgtMaj Michael Sprague, now stationed at Cherry Point, N.C., who taught me how to make my chemical gear air tight for any nasty surprises Saddam might have in store, and found humor in the darkest moments…as trained warriors do to lift up their men…
And Gunny Strack, who loved FOX News, hated CNN (“your commie news network”), eyed me warily despite my time as a Navy PAO and offered to raise the adopted pups back home in N.C. I was riding with him one afternoon as he drove his LAV like a bat out of hell across dirt roads and desert to get a dying Marine to the field hospital.
“Hold his head up!” he shouted at me, as I cradled the corporal who once told me he couldn’t wait to get home to Durham, N.C., to marry his fiancé, divorced mother of three, and become the father her children never had.
He kept their snapshot in his helmet. I saw it was still there as I tried to keep his head from bouncing; he was unconscious, but still breathing after being struck by a giant jolt of electricity from a live wire he’d tried to lift with his M-16 so our trucks could pass safely.
Strack pulled up to the hospital tents, and started to carry him inside when two corpsman with a stretcher raced up and took him away. I waited in the LAV, praying, as the docs went to work…An hour later, I saw Gunny walking back, shoulders slumped.
“Docs said he fought real hard,” he told us, choking back tears, “but he didn’t make it.”
As we drove in silence, I was overcome with a soul-deep sadness for what might have been. We caught up to the unit, and Gunny asked another corporal, Rey Narvais, to gather up his personal effects to send home.
Rey may be one of the luckiest Marines alive for winning a purple heart the hard way… AK round smashes his windshield; shattering glass into his face, hits the steering column, plops into his lap. I caught the aftermath on tape.
I later heard a general wanted to see evidence he’d been injured by enemy, not friendly, fire. That AK round was pretty good proof.
As for courage under fire, caring more about your brother or sister Marine than yourself, well, that was as much a given with Medal of Honor Winner Sgt. Meyer, as it was with “my” Marines. Semper Fi, guys, Semper Fi.”
So for those I may have personally forgotten to thank…Thank you! All of you…
That means you, too, Sgt. Sprague, now stationed at Cherry Point, then Cpl. Rey Narvais, who may be among the luckiest Marines alive for winning a purple heart the hard way…
AK round smashes his windshield; shattering glass into his face, hits the steering column and plops into his lap. I later heard a general wanted to see evidence he’d been injured by enemy, not friendly, fire. That AK round was pretty good proof.
As for courage under fire, caring more about your brother or sister Marine than yourself, well, that’s was a given with Sgt. Meyer, as it was with “my” Marines. Semper Fi, guys, Semper Fi.”
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