On Medals
By Corporal Robert L. Black, USMC
It has come to the attention of the author that many Marines have come under the traditional disease affecting all E-5 and below at the end of a deployment: Medal Fever. (Not syphilis, unless you're in the Intel shop) What warm blooded United States Marine doesn't want some more shine on his chest? It makes a wonderful clinking noise and is directly connected to the size of your penis. But at the end of this deployment you have to ask yourself: what have we done this deployment? I know that the Marines who have been with One Four for more than this tour will say "Not much," and the Junior Marines might say "When's chow?" but what makes a medal worth the price to get it mounted? I've heard of people wanting, demanding really, something more than the standard sea service deployment ribbon and GWOT. Actually, I only heard it because I live with the Admin shop and their ability to bitch about paperwork for awards deserves a medal in itself. Granted, if we were army unit we would rate approximately 143 different awards including non-sensical ones like "Grenade Expert" and "Haven't Shot Self in the Foot [yet] Medal."
As Marines we're used to getting awards that are too low for heroic actions in combat and too high for day to day life in garrison. Corporal Criss shot a rampaging waterbuffalo while flying through the air and he didn't even get a certificate of commendation. And some people get Navy Achievement Medals for filing reports in the office. Please. I'd be more proud for "Successful Completion of Arts and Crafts, First Kindergarten Division, 1990."
For the sake of argument, let?s look at the most outrageous discrepancy in awards One Four has ever seen: First Sergeant Lehew's Navy Cross and Bronze Star w/V. Not to say they were too high of awards, oh no, his Navy Cross should have been a Congressional Medal of Honor and his Bronze Star should have been the Navy Cross. As a matter of fact, the military should have made a higher award than the Medal of Honor and gave it to First Sergeant Lehew?twice! Like "The Presidential Poon-tang 100% Awesome Award" or "Distinguished Achievement in the field of American Ninjas." And that's just off the top of my head. I was there in the CP (Fly on the wall) when they told First Sergeant that they were recommending him for another high medal and he said keep that shit and give it to someone else, he would not accept it. After constant badgering though we heard he "allowed" them to write a lesser award (The lesser award turned out to be the Bronze Star w/V). First Sergeant always said he did not believe in medals and giving them out for doing your job. Doing your job? He did everyone's job and more on a daily basis!
In the interest of non-biased and fair explanation, and because I don't want this to get blown out of proportion, I'm going to throw this on the table right now: First Sergeant Lehew is God. Was that over the top? It's true. Ask any Marine that has served with him in combat and they'll tell you that bullets change trajectory around him, mortars simply don't fall near him, and body armor clings to him for protection. Get that Marine a couple of beers and he'll also tell you that First Sergeant won a game of connect four in three moves and Chuck Norris ran away (after he soiled himself) when they got into a fight.
My most notable memory of the First Sergeant was the Cemetery in Najaf, in August of 2004. The fighting had been heavy for the last two days and I was running casevacs for the Battalion. First Sergeant and I were standing next to my Humvee talking about Lt. Shickling who had the shit mortared out of him with hilarious results. (Thank God he wasn't hurt, find me and ask if you want to hear the whole story) Tactically speaking, it's difficult to describe. Just keep in mind that we were only half way covered to our left, waist high by the truck, and totally covered to our right by a six foot tall wall. Suddenly, rounds crack out from the mass of graves on the other side of the street, and impact in the four foot gap in between us while we're talking. I do the first thing that comes naturally to me: trip over my own feet and fall backwards, now in the complete cover of the Humvee. What does First Sergeant do? Return fire? Take cover? Call for Close Air Support? No. That crazy bastard walks away from what little cover he has, turns and stands tall towards the hidden shooter, and proceeds to flip him off with both hands while calling him every dirty word and ethnic Arabic stereotype in the book. The shooter flipped his weapon to full auto and simply sprays the area, trying to hit this insulting short little man. How do I know this? Because I'm less than 6 feet away watching the rounds impact the wall. They crashed into the concrete spraying gravel in all directions in between his legs, over his shoulders, next to him, most only missing by inches. Soon, the shooter runs out of rounds. First Sergeant brings his fingers down, shrugs, and comes back towards me, picking up the conversation where we left off as if nothing had happened. I got checked out by the BAS when we got back because being next to that much awesome can cause cancer.
Another story told to me from a buddy of mine in my platoon, different squad. Third Platoon was tasked with clearing crypts in the Wadi-A-Salam cemetery during the first 2 days of the fight. The militia was using the crypts as an operating catacomb to attack us from and the First Sergeant wasn't going to have any of that shit. Rather than staying a safe distance away (Can't believe I just said that) and telling another Marine to go in and get them the First Sergeant pulls out his fighting knife in one hand, pistol in his other hand and takes lead down into the catacomb like a tunnel rat in the 'Nam. Immediately suprising a dirtbag insurgent, he pushes the pistol to the chest of the man and fires then continues down the stairs to smoke two more! First Sergeant returns from the crypt, splattered with blood and says "They want to fight us from the crypts of their ancestors then we will oblige them by burying them there. Holy shit.... There are many more stories like this from many of the men in the company and the fact is, they are all true.
Don't take my word for it; let's look at his Navy Cross warrant. I won't show the whole thing here because most of you magnificent bastards are one step above illiteracy, so here's the gist:
-In the initial invasion of Iraq in March of 2003 (then) Gunnery Sergeant Lehew's AAV unit was ambushed on a bridge in Nasiriya.
-Gunny Lehew provided suppressing fire, killing at least a dozen Iraqis. The Iraqis then went under the guise of surrendering, using women with babies as spotters for RPGs and mortars.
-Gunny Lehew didn't fall for any of that shit, and killed nearly all of them when they attempted to launch a surprise attack from the back of an ambulance.
-Gunny Lehew pulled all of the dead and wounded from the wreckage of several AAVs and army transports, treating the wounded with the help of a Corpsman and arming anybody who could fight.
-The Iraqi counter-assault wisely realizes it's time to retreat; Gunny Lehew gets on top of a building and calls in a medivac.
Jesus Christ! If that doesn't give you at least a half boner, if that doesn't arouse you sexually you're either a robot or a gay robot. Since the warrant ends there, and I don't have any reliable sources to fill in the rest, I'm going to use the next best thing: hearsay and rumor.
Gunny Lehew jumps off the building and breaks the fall with his face, just because he's hard like that. He then runs into an Iraqi woman acting as a spotter while holding a baby. He eats the baby and simultaneously impregnates the woman. Moving up the street he kills 42 republican guard and completes his crossword puzzle. Finally, he uses his magic dragon breath to light the tree on fire and uses its smoke to signal the nearest friendly bird for medivac.
Marines, let's not dwell on what we think we should be awarded this deployment. Let's prepare for the next deployment to Iraq and look back at the Marines who rated so much more and didn't complain; those who made the ultimate sacrifice without hesitation, and those who will never have their stories told unless we perpetuate them throughout time.
God bless, and Semper Fidelis.
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