November 12, 2015 - President Barack Obama awards Captain Florent A. Groberg, U.S. Army (Ret), the Medal of Honor for conspicuous gallantry. Captain Groberg
earned the Medal of Honor for his courageous actions while serving as a Personal Security Detachment Commander for Task Force Mountain Warrior, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, 4th Infantry Division during combat operations in Asadabad, Kunar
Province, Afghanistan on August 8, 2012 ... Captain Groberg is the tenth living recipient to be awarded the Medal of Honor for actions in Afghanistan. He and his family joined the President at the White House to commemorate his example of selfless service.
Video courtesy of U.S. Army Multimedia & Visual Information Directorate Video edited by USA Patriotism!
Text of President Barack Obama's Remarks
THE PRESIDENT: Good morning, and welcome to the White House. A little
more than three years ago, as Captain Florent Groberg was recovering
from his wounds as a consequence of the actions that we honor today, he
woke up on a hospital bed, in a little bit of a haze. He wasn't sure,
but he thought he was in Germany, and someone was at his bedside talking
to him. He thought it was the lead singer from the heavy metal band Korn.
(Laughter.) Flo thought, “What's going on? Am I hallucinating?” But he
wasn't. It was all real.
And so today, Flo, I want to assure you,
you are not hallucinating. You are actually in the White House. Those
cameras are on. I am not the lead singer from Korn. (Laughter.) We are
here to award you our nation's highest military honor -- distinction,
the Medal of Honor.
Now, Flo and I have actually met before.
Three years ago, I was on one of my regular visits to Walter Reed to
spend some time with our wounded warriors -- and Flo was one of them. We
talked. It turns out he liked the Chicago Bears -- so I liked him right
away. (Laughter.) And I had a chance to meet his parents who could not
be more gracious and charming, and you get a sense of where Flo gets his
character from. It is wonderful to see both of you again.
I also
want to welcome Flo's girlfriend Carsen, who apparently, Flo tells me,
he had to help paint an apartment with just the other day. So there's
some honeydew lists going on. (Laughter.) His many friends, fellow
soldiers and family, all of our distinguished guests. A day after
Veterans Day, we honor this American veteran, whose story -- like so
many of our vets and wounded warriors -- speaks not only of gallantry on
the battlefield, but resilience here at home.
As a teenager just
up the road in Bethesda, Flo discovered he had an incredible gift -- he
could run. Fast. Half-mile, mile, two mile -- he'd leave his competition
in the dust. He was among the best in the state. And he went on to run
track and cross country at the University of Maryland.
Flo's
college coach called him “the consummate teammate.” As good as he was in
individual events, somehow he always found a little extra something when
he was running on a relay, with a team. Distance running is really all
about guts -- and as one teammate said, Flo could “suffer a little more
than everyone else could.” So day after day, month after month, he
pushed himself to his limit. He knew that every long run, every sprint,
every interval could help shave off a second or two off his times. And
as he'd find out later, a few seconds can make all the difference.
Training. Guts. Teamwork. What made Flo a great runner also made him
a great soldier. In the Army, Flo again took his training seriously --
hitting the books in the classroom, paying attention to every detail in
field exercises -- because he knew that he had to be prepared for any
scenario. He deployed to Afghanistan twice; first as a platoon leader,
and then a couple of years later when he was hand-picked to head up a
security detail. And so it was on an August day three years ago that Flo
found himself leading a group of American and Afghan soldiers as they
escorted their commanders to a meeting with local Afghans. It was a
journey that the team had done many times before -- a short walk on
foot, including passage over a narrow bridge.
At first, they
passed pedestrians, a few cars and bicycles, even some children. But
then they began to approach the bridge, and a pair of motorcycles sped
toward them from the other side. The Afghan troops shouted at the bikers
to stop -- and they did, ditching their bikes in the middle of the
bridge and running away.
And that's when Flo noticed something
to his left -- a man, dressed in dark clothing, walking backwards, just
some 10 feet away. The man spun around and turned toward them, and
that's when Flo sprinted toward him. He pushed him away from the
formation, and as he did, he noticed an object under the man's clothing
-- a bomb. The motorcycles had been a diversion.
And at that
moment, Flo did something extraordinary -- he grabbed the bomber by his
vest and kept pushing him away. And all those years of training on the
track, in the classroom, out in the field -- all of it came together. In
those few seconds, he had the instincts and the courage to do what was
needed. One of Flo's comrades, Sergeant Andrew Mahoney, had joined in,
too, and together they shoved the bomber again and again. And they
pushed him so hard he fell to the ground onto his chest. And then the
bomb detonated.
Ball bearings, debris, dust exploded everywhere.
Flo was thrown some 15 or 20 feet and was knocked unconscious. And
moments later, he woke up in the middle of the road in shock. His
eardrum was blown out. His leg was broken and bleeding badly. Still, he
realized that if the enemy launched a secondary attack, he'd be a
sitting duck. When a comrade found him in the smoke, Flo had his pistol
out, dragging his wounded body from the road.
That blast by the
bridge claimed four American heroes -- four heroes Flo wants us to
remember today. One of his mentors, a 24-year Army vet who always found
time for Flo and any other soldier who wanted to talk -- Command
Sergeant Major Kevin Griffin. A West Pointer who loved hockey and became
a role model to cadets and troops because he always “cared more about
other people than himself” -- Major Tom Kennedy. A popular Air Force
leader known for smiling with his “whole face,” someone who always
seemed to run into a friend wherever he went -- Major David Gray. And
finally, a USAID foreign service officer who had just volunteered for a
second tour in Afghanistan; a man who moved to the United States from
Egypt and reveled in everything American, whether it was Disneyland or
chain restaurants or roadside pie -- Ragaei Abdelfattah.
These
four men believed in America. They dedicated their lives to our country.
They died serving it. Their families -- loving wives and children,
parents and siblings -- bear that sacrifice most of all. So while
Ragaei's family could not be with us today, I'd ask three Gold Star
families to please stand and accept our deepest thanks. (Applause.)
Today, we honor Flo because his actions prevented an even greater
catastrophe. You see, by pushing the bomber away from the formation, the
explosion occurred farther from our forces, and on the ground instead of
in the open air. And while Flo didn't know it at the time, that
explosion also caused a second, unseen bomb to detonate before it was in
place. Had both bombs gone off as planned, who knows how many could have
been killed.
Those are the lives Flo helped to save. And we are
honored that many of them are here today. Brigadier General James
Mingus. Sergeant Andrew Mahoney, who was awarded a Silver Star for
joining Flo in confronting the attacker. Sergeant First Class Brian
Brink, who was awarded a Bronze Star with Valor for pulling Flo from the
road. Specialist Daniel Balderrama, the medic who helped to save Flo's
leg. Private First Class Benjamin Secor and Sergeant Eric Ochart, who
also served with distinction on that day. Gentlemen, I'd ask you to
please stand and accept the thanks of a grateful nation, as well.
(Applause.)
At Walter Reed, Flo began his next mission -- the
mission to recover. He suffered significant nerve damage, and almost
half of the calf muscle in his left leg had been blown off. So the leg
that had powered him around that track, the leg that moved so swiftly to
counter the bomber -- that leg had been through hell and back. Thanks to
33 surgeries and some of the finest medical treatment a person can ask
for, Flo kept that leg. He's not running, but he's doing a lot of
CrossFit. I would not challenge him to CrossFit. (Laughter.) He's
putting some hurt on some rowing machines and some stair climbers. I
think it is fair to say he is fit.
Today, Flo is medically
retired. But like so many of his fellow veterans of our 9/11 Generation,
Flo continues to serve. As I said yesterday at Arlington, that's what
our veterans do -- they are incredibly highly skilled, dynamic leaders
always looking to write that next chapter of service to America. For
Flo, that means a civilian job with the Department of Defense to help
take care of our troops and keep our military strong.
And every
day that he is serving, he will be wearing a bracelet on his wrist -- as
he is today -- a bracelet that bears the names of his brothers in arms
who gave their lives that day. The truth is, Flo says that day was the
worst day of his life. And that is the stark reality behind these Medal
of Honor ceremonies -- that for all the valor we celebrate, and all the
courage that inspires us, these actions were demanded amid some of the
most dreadful moments of war.
That's precisely why we honor
heroes like Flo -- because on his very worst day, he managed to summon
his very best. That's the nature of courage -- not being unafraid, but
confronting fear and danger and performing in a selfless fashion. He
showed his guts, he showed his training; how he would put it all on the
line for his teammates. That's an American we can all be grateful for.
It's why we honor Captain Florent Groberg today.
May God bless
all who serve and all who have given their lives to our country. We are
free because of them. May God bless their families and may God continue
to bless the United States of America with heroes such as these.
