He was 88, a veteran, and facing the loss of the only home he had left. The courtroom felt too large as he sat in his wheelchair, trying to stay upright while everything closed in. Walter Greene had lived quietly since his wife passed. No children visited, and no one stood beside him that afternoon. The small house he owned had aged faster than he had, with a broken porch, peeling paint, and a roof that leaked every time it rained. City citations stacked up, and the repairs stayed out of reach. The case was called, and Walter listened as the violations were read aloud. Each number landed heavier than the last. When the city attorney asked for permission to condemn the property if payment failed, the meaning became impossible to avoid. Losing the house meant losing the last place that still felt like his. The judge started to speak, then stopped. From the bench, he watched Walter fold forward, hands covering his face as quiet sobs shook his shoulders. No words filled the room, and nobody moved. After a long pause, the gavel came down. A brief recess was announced, and the courtroom emptied in a low murmur of confusion. When the judge returned, his tone had changed. He addressed Walter directly and explained that phone calls had been made during the break. The local veterans organization had stepped in, along with a county fund dedicated to former service members. Every fine was dismissed. Relief barely had time to settle before more followed. A contractors group had already agreed to complete the repairs at no cost, with work starting the next week. Walter looked up, stunned, as tears returned for a different reason. The weight he carried for months finally eased. Then something unexpected happened. The judge left the bench, crossed the room, and knelt beside the wheelchair. Strong arms wrapped around the old veteran, holding him steady when he couldn’t do it himself. Walter’s voice shook as he spoke into the judge’s shoulder. He said he didn’t think anyone remembered him anymore. The judge held him close and spoke softly, the words meant only for him. “It’s all right. You’re not standing here alone. Sometimes it feels like nobody remembers anymore. We remember. I do what you gave me. We don’t forget that. Thank you. John.”
To date, I have never read another Medal Of Honor citation like this.
What a human. Read this and tell me if you ever have?
Donald Gilbert Cook, serving with the Naval Advisor Group, U.S. Military Assistance Command, USMC, was interned as a Prisoner of War by the Viet Cong in the Republic of Vietnam during the period from 31 December 1964 to 8 December 1967.
Despite the fact that by so doing he would bring about harsher treatment for himself, Colonel (then Captain) Cook established himself as the senior prisoner, even though in actuality he was not.
Repeatedly assuming more than his share of the manual labor in order that the other Prisoners of War could improve the state of their health, Col. Cook willingly and unselfishly put the interests of his comrades before that of his own well-being and, eventually, his life.
Giving more needy men his medicine and drug allowance while constantly nursing them, he risked infection from contagious diseases while in a rapidly deteriorating state of health.
This unselfish and exemplary conduct, coupled with his refusal to stray even the slightest from the U.S. Military Code of Conduct, earned him the deepest respect from not only his fellow prisoners, but some of his captors as well.
Rather than negotiate for his own release or better treatment, Col. Cook steadfastly frustrated attempts by the Viet Cong to break his indomitable spirit, and passed this same resolve on to the men with whose well-being he so closely associated himself.
Knowing his refusals would prevent his release prior to the end of the war, and also knowing his chances for prolonged survival would be small in the event of continued refusal, he chose nevertheless to adhere to the U.S. Military Code of Conduct - far above that which could be expected.
Colonel Cook, a son of Brooklyn, died on December 8, 1967 in a jungle Viet Cong Prisoner of War camp in the Republic of Vietnam.
His remains were never recovered.
For his enduring personal valor and exceptional spirit of loyalty in the face of almost certain death, Donald Gilbert Cook, a son of Brooklyn, was posthumously awarded the Medal Of Honor. He is the only Marine in history to receive it as a Prisoner of War.
Donald, we honor you.
Please honor this amazing Man by reposting so he is not forgotten
Thank you
We're remembering and honoring Petty Officer Second Class Matthew Gene "Axe" Axelson, a dedicated U.S. Navy SEAL who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country.
On June 28, 2005, during Operation Red Wings in Kunar Province, Afghanistan, Axelson was part of a four-man reconnaissance team tasked with locating Taliban leader Ahmad Shah.
His teammates included Lieutenant Michael P. Murphy (team leader), Gunner's Mate 2nd Class Danny P. Dietz, and Hospital Corpsman 2nd Class Marcus Luttrell.
The team was ambushed by a large Taliban force, leading to intense combat. Despite being outnumbered and severely wounded, Axelson fought valiantly, providing covering fire and protecting his buddies until he was KIA.
Murphy, who exposed himself to enemy fire to call for help, and Dietz were also killed, while Luttrell became the sole survivor after being rescued days later. A quick reaction force helicopter sent to extract them was shot down, resulting in the loss of 16 more service members, including 8 SEALs and 8 Army Night Stalkers.
Ror his extraordinary heroism, Axelson was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross, the Navy's second-highest honor.
Murphy received the Medal of Honor posthumously, Dietz the Navy Cross posthumously, and Luttrell the Navy Cross.
Rest in peace, hero. 🫡
When you start replacing American flags with Somali flags and trans flags, you insult every last person who fought and died for this country in the past 250 years.
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
@itsrosesm Hmmmm...let's see....A) Illegal immigrants during the FJB administration got to live like kings (Free Housing,Healthcare, Phones, ETC...) OR B) our VOLUNTEER service members get to eat a real meal while they are deployed defending our rights as citizens...choose A and you're dumb
The freedom that we have in this country comes with a high cost.
On July 4th, 2011 Mike Garcia played rock, paper, scissors with another EOD tech to go on mission in Afghanistan. He did that because he really wanted to go.
We Remember
SSG Michael J Garcia
USA EOD
KIA 04JUL2011
Wardak Province, Afghanistan.
https://t.co/7cljiSfRhQ
"In the huddle, a black player said that an opponent had called him a n*****.
Unitas said:
“Let him through.”
And he threw a bullet pass into that guy’s head so hard it felled him.
To sportswriters after a game, he described everyone’s goofs as his mistakes.
He played hurt, his teammates loved him, “Playing with Johnny Unitas,” one said,
“Was like being in the huddle with God.” Threw 122 touchdown passes in 47 CONSECUTIVE games!!!!!!!
Legend & HERO!!!
"There is a difference between conceit and confidence.
Conceit is bragging about yourself.
Confidence means you believe you can get the job done.
Talk is cheap
Let’s go play."
Johnny Unitas.
"The Golden Arm."
Johnny Unitas, 1958.
>American airman asleep on a train in France while on vacation with his childhood friends
>Wakes up to the sound of screaming and breaking glass
>Sees a terrorist step into the aisle carrying an AK-47 and 300 rounds of ammo
>Doesn't look for an exit, doesn't hesitate
>Sprints 30 feet down the aisle straight at the barrel of the gun, completely unarmed
>The terrorist pulls the trigger; the rifle miraculously jams
>Tackles him, gets slashed in the neck and hand with a box cutter, almost losing his thumb
>Ignores the bleeding, chokes the attacker unconscious with his bare hands
>Credits God for the jammed rifle and his survival
>Saves everyone on board
Patriot airman Spencer Stone is a hero.