Pinned down by enemy machineguns in the jungles of Luzon, his platoon could not move. He rose and attacked alone.
In a rice paddy thick with tall grass, the enemy waited in ambush. He went straight into them.
An infiltrating sapper squad moved toward the heart of the base. He chose to meet them head-on.
An ambushed convoy. A gun truck under fire. When the grenade landed, he did not hesitate.
In the darkness west of Da Nang, grenades and rifle fire tore into the perimeter. He ran toward the wounded—and shielded them with his life.
A commander lay wounded in the street under pointblank fire. He ran toward him—and never left his side.
Outnumbered. Low on ammunition. Gas burning in the air. When the grenade landed, he chose his men.
