I quoted only one of 5 incredible acts of heroism and battlefield valor. Men who found themselves out of ammo and fighting with improvised weapons.
What I find amazing(and appalling) is that the application for the Medal of Honor for Kaho’ohanohano was denied.
Took until 2009 for him to be properly recognized.
What’s the definition of a Ghurka hand grenade? A land mine.
I’ve been Googling the 5 men’s names to read more about them and the military awards they earned. Men like that have a mental toughness and drive that’s quite unique. They were either going to survive or die killing as many of the enemy as possible. Most of the guys on Cracked’s list survived in spite of the odds against them.
What no reference to Mad Jack Churchill? Who fought most of WW2 with a longbow and sword?
Not one mention of cotton Hill who beat several Japanese soldiers to death with his own shins.
Gallantry and badassery in battle goes on forever.
There’s always Rodger Young, from WWII
I first heard about him when I read the book Starship Troopers, by Robert Heinlein. There’s a rumor a movie was made from the book, but I refuse to believe it.
Because at least one previous installment of “Cracked’s badass soldiers” included him.
I was in the Marines in Vietnam in 1969. I met a guy named Tom Ferguson when I first got to my company (Golf Co, 2nd Bn, 7th Marines).
He’d spent two years in the Army in Vietnam, got out for a year or so and decided he missed the excitement. He’d have gone back in the Army but they wouldn’t guarantee him Vietnam.
Just a very normal sized guy. Almost legally blind without his glasses. He virtually never cursed (which, trust me here, really, really stood out), read college level textbooks for entertainment, had an almost insane level of personal courage and expectation. He went from Pfc to Sgt in six months.
On August 29, 1969 we were ambushed. He crawled out to where a couple of guys were wounded to help them. A grenade landed beside him and tore up his upper arm.
A little latter a friend crawled up to me to tell me, “Your friend Ferguson was killed.” But after a few minutes I heard he was only wounded. Things slowed down so I moved over to where the wounded were and found him.
He was in bad shape. So I tried to cheer him up telling him he’d be okay. He was in shock and shot full of morphine but he almost laughed at me. He said, and this is exactly what he said, “I’ve been over here a long time and I’ve seen a lot come and go, and I’m going.” This took a while because he was in a lot of pain. He paused a bit and said, **“This is just the way I want to go.” **
We talked a bit more, I’m still trying to get his spirits up, I said I’d write and what was his home address.
It’s almost 45 years now but I still remember, 8291 Appoline, Detroit, MI.
He didn’t die. I did write and he wrote back. In early 1971 I got a letter from him. He was now a SSgt and back in Vietnam.
I’ve never met anyone like him and never expect to again. An odd man, but no whiner.