President
Barack Obama awards Retired U.S. Marine Corps Sergeant Dakota L. Meyer the Medal of Honor
. . . for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty, while serving with Marine Embedded Training Team 2-8, Regional Corps Advisory Command 3-7, in Kunar
Province, Afghanistan, on September 8, 2009.
Video courtesy of the White House
Text of President Barack Obama's Remarks
I want you to imagine it's September 8, 2009, just
before dawn. A patrol of Afghan forces and their
American trainers is on foot, making their way up a
narrow valley, heading into a village to meet with
elders. And suddenly, all over the village, the
lights go out. And that's when it happens. About a
mile away, Dakota, who was then a corporal, and
Staff Sergeant Juan Rodriguez-Chavez, could hear the
ambush over the radio. It was as if the whole valley
was exploding. Taliban fighters were unleashing a
firestorm from the hills, from the stone houses,
even from the local school.
And soon, the
patrol was pinned down, taking ferocious fire from
three sides. Men were being wounded and killed, and
four Americans -- Dakota's friends -- were
surrounded. Four times, Dakota and Juan asked
permission to go in; four times they were denied. It
was, they were told, too dangerous. But one of the
teachers in his high school once said, “When you
tell Dakota he can't do something, he's is going to
do it.” And as Dakota said of his trapped teammates,
“Those were my brothers, and I couldn't just sit
back and watch.”
The story of what Dakota
did next will be told for generations. He told Juan
they were going in. Juan jumped into a Humvee and
took the wheel; Dakota climbed into the turret and
manned the gun. They were defying orders, but they
were doing what they thought was right. So they
drove straight into a killing zone, Dakota's upper
body and head exposed to a blizzard of fire from
AK-47s and machine guns, from mortars and
rocket-propelled grenades.
Coming upon
wounded Afghan soldiers, Dakota jumped out and
loaded each of the wounded into the Humvee, each
time exposing himself to all that enemy fire. They
turned around and drove those wounded back to
safety. Those who were there called it the most
intense combat they'd ever seen. Dakota and Juan
would have been forgiven for not going back in. But
as Dakota says, you don't leave anyone behind.
For a second time, they went back -- back into
the inferno; Juan at the wheel, swerving to avoid
the explosions all around them; Dakota up in the
turret -- when one gun jammed, grabbing another,
going through gun after gun. Again they came across
wounded Afghans. Again Dakota jumped out, loaded
them up and brought them back to safety.
For
a third time, they went back -- insurgents running
right up to the Humvee, Dakota fighting them off. Up
ahead, a group of Americans, some wounded, were
desperately trying to escape the bullets raining
down. Juan wedged the Humvee right into the line of
fire, using the vehicle as a shield. With Dakota on
the guns, they helped those Americans back to safety
as well.
For a fourth time, they went back.
Dakota was now wounded in the arm. Their vehicle was
riddled with bullets and shrapnel. Dakota later
confessed, “I didn't think I was going to die. I
knew I was.” But still they pushed on, finding the
wounded, delivering them to safety.
And
then, for a fifth time, they went back -- into the
fury of that village, under fire that seemed to come
from every window, every doorway, every alley. And
when they finally got to those trapped Americans,
Dakota jumped out. And he ran toward them. Drawing
all those enemy guns on himself. Bullets kicking up
the dirt all around him. He kept going until he came
upon those four Americans, laying where they fell,
together as one team.
Dakota and the others
who had joined him knelt down, picked up their
comrades and -- through all those bullets, all the
smoke, all the chaos -- carried them out, one by
one. Because, as Dakota says, “That's what you do
for a brother.”
Dakota says he'll accept
this medal in their name. So today, we remember the
husband who loved the outdoors --Lieutenant Michael
Johnson. The husband and father they called “Gunny
J” -- Gunnery Sergeant Edwin Johnson. The determined
Marine who fought to get on that team -- Staff
Sergeant Aaron Kenefick. The medic who gave his life
tending to his teammates -- Hospitalman Third Class
James Layton. And a soldier wounded in that battle
who never recovered -- Sergeant First Class Kenneth
Westbrook.
Note...
Marines, Staff Sergeant Juan Rodriguez-Chaves
and Capt. Adeomola Fabayo, received the Navy Cross
(second only to the Medal of Honor) for their
actions on this day...
see the video report
about them
Dakota Meyer
The story of what Dakota
did next will be told for generations. He told Juan
they were going in. Juan jumped into a Humvee and
took the wheel; Dakota climbed into the turret and
manned the gun. They were defying orders, but they
were doing what they thought was right. So they
drove straight into a killing zone, Dakota's upper
body and head exposed to a blizzard of fire from
AK-47s and machine guns, from mortars and
rocket-propelled grenades. 
