Medal of Honor society eyeing legacy as numbers decline

At Gate 29 of Reagan National Airport, a crowd began to gather. As an American Airlines charter from New York unloaded, invited guests along with accidental bystanders applauded as Medal of Honor recipient after Medal of Honor recipient disembarked to proceed through a tunnel of waving American flags, handshakes and thank yous.

All told, 26 recipients of the nation's highest military honor, earned in conflicts from World War II to Afghanistan attended a luncheon Tuesday at the airport. It was part of a multi-day series of events in multiple cities, culminating with Medal of Honor Day on Wednesday.

The MoH recipients are all members of the Congressional Medal of Honor Society, an organization in danger of having to "case its colors," as its president puts it.

In order to join the society, you have to be a recipient of the Medal of Honor. And since Vietnam, those awards have become far less common.

"Numbers are going to continue to dwindle," said retired Army Lt. Col. Harold Fritz, the society's president, who earned his MoH as a first lieutenant in Vietnam. "That's why it's so important that we leave a solid legacy behind."

There are 79 living Medal of Honor recipients. Nine of them earned their medals since the end of the Vietnam War four decades ago (all in Afghanistan).

The origins of the society dates back to 1890 with the Medal of Honor Legion, formed to protect the integrity of the award. Since the inception of the MoH during the Civil War, different yet similarly designed awards and stolen valor had clouded the award's prestige.

In 1946, the Congressional Medal of Honor Society formed with a different mission: to perpetuate the ideals of the medal.

Today, that includes honoring civilians who embody the MoH spirit. When its capacity for outreach diminishes, members hope the award's values, along with memory and recognition of those who embody them – from soldiers to ordinary citizens – endure.
To that end, the society annually recognizes ordinary citizens taking extraordinary actions, which it will do at Arlington National Cemetery on Wednesday.This year they recognize three honorees from 200 nominations:

• John Meis, who pepper-sprayed and tackled a gunman at a Seattle college as the shooter reloaded. Aaron Ybarra had already shot three people, killing one.

• Artist Micheal Reagan, a retired Marine who paints portraits for Gold Star parents as part of the Fallen Heroes Project.

• Alton Brieske, who dove into a lake to swim to a car that a 92-year-old man crashed into a lake. As the car filled with water, Brieske broke the window, unlocked the door, and pulled the unconscious man to safety.

Mission at the school

To further its legacy, the society also started an educational program for public schools, providing prepared lessons about MoH recipients, their tales of valor and how those values can be applied in everyday life. In the past year more than 2,250 teachers have received the lesson plans. that in the past year provided more than 2,250 teachers with training along with prepared lessons and materials to bring the history and ideals of the MoH into public school classrooms.

"[We want] to show that you don't have to be wearing a uniform or in the military, you can do what these citizen honors people did, they stood up at the right time," said retired Navy Capt. Thomas Kelley, who earned the Medal of Honor as a lieutenant in Vietnam. "Whether it's moral courage or physical courage, we want to instill that in kids."

The society also hopes to create a Medal of Honor museum at Patriots Point on the east side of Charleston Harbor in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina. The museum, planned as a $98 million project according to Fritz, will honor not only the history of the award and its history stretching back to the Civil War, but also honor all service members and their contributions.

"It's going to be a magnificent legacy, long standing, beacon of America," Fritz said. "There will be a standing testament to the sacrifice of men and women throughout the history of this nation."

The National Medal of Honor Museum Foundation has been fundraising for about a year, and has raised about $5 million, with a goal to reach $50 million by the end of 2015, Fritz said.

A brotherhood

Maj. Will Swenson, a hero from Operation Enduring Freedom, was there. And so was Hershel "Woody" Williams, a 91-year-old retired Marine Chief Warrant Officer 4. Williams had just return to the U.S. from his first trip back to Iwo Jima. His first visit earned him the Medal of Honor.

"It's humbling to be part of a living history that stretches all the way back to World War II and to now be a part of that continuing thread," Swenson said.

The group has become tight-knit, a bond forged over shared experiences both in battle and beyond.

"These 79 recipients are actually closer to me than my blood brothers and sisters. This is my family," said fetired Command Sgt. Maj. Gary Littrell, another Vietnam recipient. "It's a brotherhood that's fantastic."

Retired Staff Sgt. Salvatore Giunta, who as an Army specialist in 2007 earned the Medal of Honor in Afghanistan, said he figured he and other younger members would take on a bigger role as their numbers decline. For now, he has embraced an honoree's role at these events, meeting the happy throngs that approach to shake hands and express thanks.

"I'm an average soldier at best, and now I'm just a civilian," Giunta said. "But I know what I represent. I represent the biggest, the fastest, the bravest, the smartest, the most selfless people I've ever met. As long as I can tell not my story, but tell our story, I'll do it until I'm blue in the face until the day I die."

Giunta said that Col. Bruce Crandall, a helicopter pilot from Vietnam, took him under his wing early and "cracks me up every single day, and jokes about showing me what not to do." And he remembered how Walt Ehlers, an Army second lieutenant who invaded Normandy during World War II and who died last year, once invited him into his house.

"Everyone at the Pentagon explained to me how [being a Medal of Honor recipient] was going to go. No one at the Pentagon had a clue how this was going to go. Walt had this medal around his neck for over 60 years when he told me how it was going to go," Giunta said.

Expanding the outreach

Monday, the New York Stock Exchange hosted an annual fundraiser dinner, the biggest event of the year for the Congressional Medal of Honor Foundation — the society's fundraising arm.

That event, according to foundation president and CEO Ron Rand, raises about $500,000 each year through seat purchases and sponsorships, with the NYSE providing the venue and the meals for free. While there are a few other fundraisers in different cities each year, this one makes up a particularly big chunk of the roughly $4 million raised annually by the foundation, which has a professional staff of six, Rand said.

That money goes toward society initiatives, including providing teachers with materials and training for the Character Development Program includes an eight-hour course for teachers across the country, materials for 59 different 50-minute lesson plans designed by teachers, and even money to pay the substitute who covers for the trainee. This past year more teachers trained than in the first four years of the program combined, Rand said.

Littrell, who like others noted that

In a decade or two the group of MoH recipients will be a much smaller group, Littrell said. But he hopes students across the country will still be learning of these heroes and their stories.

But mostly, he hopes the values stick.

"That's the legacy we would like to leave behind. It's not about us, it's about our future and our future in America. And if we can leave our legacy, then we've accomplished our mission," Littrell said.