On the killing ground they called “Suicide Hill,” Private Barney Hajiro rose into enemy fire—charging alone, shouting encouragement, and turning certain death into victory.
When his company was overrun and the line began to crumble, Sergeant Max Thompson stood alone—fighting tanks, machine guns, and an entire battalion with nothing but grit and fire.
Wounded, half-blind, and dying, Lieutenant Harold Durham still held the radio and called fire on his own position—fighting to the last breath to save his men.
When three Japanese landing barges came for the beach at Finschhafen, Private Junior Van Noy met them head-on—one man, one gun, and unbreakable resolve.
They called him “Pappy,” and he turned a band of rough-edged misfits into the most feared fighter squadron in the Pacific.
When enemy bombers swarmed the skies over Guadalcanal, Lieutenant Colonel Harold Bauer didn’t wait for odds to even—he climbed into his Wildcat and charged straight into the storm.
When his squad was wiped out and enemy troops swarmed the ridge, Private Thomas Neibaur stayed behind—fighting alone, bleeding, and unbreakable.
