All language subtitles for Medal of Honor - 01x01 - Sylvester Antolak (English)

More than 40 million Americans
have served

in the United States armed forces.

Of those, fewer than 3,600 have been
awarded the military's highest honor.

Where did we find such men?

We find them
where we've always found them.

In our villages and towns,

on our city streets, in our shops,
and on our farms.

Summoned a degree of courage

that stirs wonder and respect

and an overpowering pride in all of us.

It recognizes gallantry that goes

above and beyond the call of duty.

We may not always hear of their success,

but they are there, in the thick
of the fight, in the dark of night,

achieving their mission.

Ladies and gentlemen,
the President of the United States.

My fellow Americans,

powerful and resourceful gangsters
have banded together

to make war upon the whole human race.

We didn't want to get in it,

but we are in it,

and we're going to fight it

with everything we've got.

World War II really... truly showcased
who we were as a nation.

It changed who we were as a country.
It changed our identity.

I am an American.
I come from Brooklyn, New York.

I am an American. Fairview, Montana.

I am an American.
I come from Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

- I am an American.
- I am an American.

I am an American.

They're called "The Greatest Generation"
because everyone fought.

If you weren't out there wearing
a uniform, fighting,

you were out there in the factories,

building equipment
so that these individuals could

successfully and safely
accomplish their mission.

I have said, not once, but many times

that I have seen war...

and that I hate war.

After years of war, and suffering,
and degradation,

the Italian people are, at last,
coming to the day of liberation

from their real enemies, the Nazis.

We must drive the Germans out of Italy

as we have driven them out
of Tunisia and Sicily.

It was felt that we needed to knock Italy
out of the war,

to deprive Germany
of one of its last allies,

so we headed for Anzio in January of '44.

The idea was that this invasion
would unhinge the German lines

and eventually lead the Allies to Rome.

Unfortunately, they got bottled up
by the Germans.

It just turned into a big killing ground,
a big battle of attrition.

They were losing about
800 men a day in this Anzio beachhead.

Just from shelling, from sniping.

From, you know, just random German fire.

So they're kind of stuck there,
literally shrinking day by day by day,

and the guys are like, "We don't know
how we're gonna get out of here.

How can possibly break out, because
our force is getting smaller and smaller."

So, morale is definitely... suffering.

The Germans are just trying
to contain this beachhead

and make the Allies pay as dearly
for the ground as they can

without being able to expand it.

The only way to rescue yourself

from this German defensive fire
was to move forward,

disrupt the German line,
and push them back.

Fortunately, the Germans
are getting smaller and smaller, too,

because one thing the Americans
have massive superiority in,

on the Anzio beachhead, is artillery.

The German strength
was thinning because of casualties,

so we thought there's a good opportunity
to break out of this beachhead,

so that they could move on Rome.

Well, Sergeant Antolak was part
of a large operation

that was trying to break out
of the beachhead,

trying to penetrate the defensive lines
of the Germans

and finally open up that path to Rome.

The key to breaking the encirclement

around Anzio was the town of Cisterna.

Once you got to Cisterna, there were a lot
of directions you could go

and you really had burst out
of the confinement of the beachhead.

Sergeant Antolak's platoon
was going out first.

They'd had a rough day on the 23rd.

They'd been fighting through the defenses,
they had made progress.

They got up to an important railroad
embankment on the morning of the 24th.

They had taken the time...
They were protected behind the embankment,

so they could get down there
under cover and regroup,

get some food, stock up on ammunition.

Sergeant Antolak was a squad leader,

so I'm sure he had his ten or so men
around him,

and was telling them
what they were gonna do for that morning,

and the platoon was getting together and
the company was getting ready to jump off,

really into the teeth
of Cisterna's defenses.

See anything?

I can see there's still no cover
once we leave this wall.

Sylvester Antolak,

his story is one of those
that's just incredible.

Honestly, I kinda look at it as saying,
like, this is not true.

No way a human being could go through
what he went through and do what he did.

That's why I just find it funny that

I am part of that society
as a Medal of Honor recipient.

There's no way what I did is comparable
to what this incredible human being did.

He enlisted in the Army in July 1941,

before the war has really kicked off,
before Pearl Harbor, so he's obviously

patriotic and thinking about the future
and the necessity to serve.

This is a modest man

from a small farming community in Ohio,
he's of Polish heritage.

He grew up on a farm.

Ten brothers and sisters.

Growing up in that large family, you have
to learn how to work with each other.

You learn that you have this love
for your brothers and sisters.

He brought that with him to the fight
that these are my brothers next to me

and I'm not going to

let them die here today.

Sergeant Antolak and his men

have experienced an existence

where they're under constant threat.

They're just trying to get through
each moment they're under fire,

each hour, each day,

each night. It's miserable.

They're just trying to survive.

This is an infantryman's existence
at its very toughest.

The night before, they had fought

a horrendous battle all night
and it took quite a few casualties.

You know, the next morning, it's...

they got orders from high command
saying, "Hey, go out there and

cross over this railroad, take over
this town, and kick out the Germans."

You just saw some really horrible things
and you lost a lot of friends, and...

you didn't have time to take a breath,

and you're back at it.

I get a smoke?

The waiting's the hardest part.

What's the easy part?

When I was ten,

there was this bully in my school.

He bullied everybody.

So, I guess,

one day it was my turn.

I knew he was waiting for me after school.

I remember staring at the clock,

hoping that the day would never end.

But, uh...

it did.

And, uh...

then I pissed in my pants.

And, uh...

I went out to face him.

But my brothers were already beating
on that poor kid.

Krauts are just bullies.

Leading soldiers in combat is really

the greatest privilege
and the most awesome of responsibilities.

It can put entire units,
entire armies at risk.

At the level
of Sergeant Antolak's leadership,

he realizes that

every direction that he gives,
every order,

could result in someone being exposed
to enemy fire.

All right, First Squad, out!

Sergeant Antolak and his unit
are part of the spearhead

that's supposed to lead
the Third Infantry Division

in an encirclement of Cisterna.

The Germans had machine gun

firing points scattered all through
the whole area in depth.

The Germans know how important it is.
It's a major stronghold.

By breaking through at Cisterna,
the American armies can completely unhinge

the German defensive line,
so they can take Rome.

There was a lot of symbolic
significance of Rome.

It would be
the first major axis capital to fall.

But first, they have to take Cisterna.

The roughest part of the battle
was about to come.

Germans have a lot of advantages.

When you're on the defensive,
you have already been there for a while,

you understand the terrain,

you've picked out the best places
to set up your security,

so they absolutely have the advantage
in this situation.

They're across.

Move out!

Yes, sir.

Not everybody loves each other
in a combat unit,

but they all have to rely on one another.

Your life depends
on everybody else in your unit.

Every soldier in there has to rely
on the other guy to do his job.

Contact!

Those sons of bitches waited
to cut us in half!

A surprise is everything
in small unit actions.

It's common for the enemy
to let the lead element go through,

and then the enemy can ambush them.

How far out are they?

About 200 yards.

Those Krauts want us
to leave First Squad out there.

We're not leaving anyone out there!

Sergeant Antolak understands

that the only way we support First Squad
is by having us, Second Squad,

get up and take out the enemy.

But if we all get up and start running
towards this machine gun,

we're gonna get killed.

You see the fear in their eyes
and they start doubting themselves.

They start doubting their own team.

You do have to improvise, at times,
to the situation,

and that's...

most likely what he was trying
to think about:

"How do I improvise this situation?
How do I...

execute the enemy, and yet,
make sure my men come home?"

He's at a considerable
disadvantage to the Germans,

but he also knows that he has
a responsibility to his men,

that he has to respond immediately.

The casualties at this level are friends.

They're not just names and faces,
much less numbers.

They're your fellow soldiers.

Wait for my signal.

What the hell's he doing?

He clearly recognized

that something had to be done,
that they could not just

hug the Earth and survive,
that the German machine gun fire

had to be disrupted.

He's going to shock the enemy.
He's going to make himself a target...

and stop that machine gun

from imperiling the lives of his men.

In combat,

there might be a moment
where you have to make a decision

that will more than likely dictate
whether or not you live or die.

You put every experience
that you've ever had in your life,

from the moment you can remember...

and then you put in all your training
and all your beliefs...

all your love for the people around you,

whether at that specific moment
or back home.

Life is short.

Life is precious.

But I'd rather put my life on the line,

and not come home,

than cower away.

When Sergeant Antolak decided
to sprint towards that machine gun nest,

he bottled up everything that he loved
about life, all his experiences,

and he gambled on that.

That, what I represent,

not as an individual

but as a countryman,
is stronger than what you represent,

and today I will show it to you.

Get behind the wall.

Get behind the wall!

- You've lost your damned mind!
- We can't leave him out there!

There was this bully in my school.

- One day, it was my turn.
- Let's go.

I went out to face him,

but my brothers were already beating
on that poor kid.

You didn't have to do that for me!

I can take care of myself.

The Powerful and resourceful gangsters

who have banded together...

Krauts are just bullies.

We didn't want
to get in it, but we are in it.

and we're going to fight it
with everything we've got.

Because of his actions,

his men forgot about being hungry,
forgot about being tired,

forgot about the horrible night
they had prior,

and instead, remembered that they had

an incredible leader in Sergeant Antolak.

Somehow, he had the ability
to really understand the situation.

And that's something
that really is special in an individual.

He's weaving, trying to be a hard target
for them to hit.

And he's shooting
while he's doing this as well.

He's gotta try to keep
the enemy's head down.

He's at least gotta try to make them
less accurate...

...all while he's allowing his men

to seek cover, to return fire.

Antolak was now attacking
into German heavy machine guns,

the Spandau heavy machine gun,

a machine gun that's firing
600 rounds a minute.

Sergeant Antolak's got a Thompson
submachine gun, 45-caliber shells.

He's definitely bringing a butter knife
to a gunfight.

This is a massive blow.

I've actually taken a round, an M16 round,

a smaller caliber than the one
that he was hit with multiple times,

right through the chest.

And it is like the biggest blow
to the solar plexus

that you can possibly imagine.

And it sort of explodes
out of the back of your body,

you almost feel as if
you've been hit from behind.

Move!

Let's be honest.

He was scared. He had to be.
I... everybody's scared in combat.

If you're not scared, then there's
something really wrong with you.

That is why fear is actually
one of our biggest allies,

because fear keeps us sane...

keeps us accurate.

It reminds you
that you have to do your job.

Antolak was shot multiple times.

He's losing blood.

His humerus is shattered...

...but there's that drive
to continue moving forward.

Now he's got an arm that doesn't work.

He's gotta tuck that gun underneath
his good arm, under his left arm,

and that's gotta be incredibly painful.

But he still had guys that were in danger.

It's that bond that you have
with your fellow soldier,

to make sure that I'm there for you,
you're there for me.

And, if I can still go, I'm gonna go.

Nothing motivated troops
quite so much as watching

one of their buddies move toward the enemy

and they would feel compelled
to support him.

I mean, this is something that all studies
of units in World War II

and World War I pointed to,
that the allegiance was

not so much to the higher command,
the allegiance was to the unit.

And that these troops
would do anything for each other

because they had bonded so much.

So, because of Sergeant Antolak's
madcap sprint toward the enemy,

they would come forward in support.

I am a German soldier,

and I just shot this human being

three times.

And three times, he gets back up
and sprints towards me?

I'm thinking, like,
"This guy's possessed."

Drop your weapons!

"Hey, he wants it more than I do today!"

- Get your hands up!
- Please.

What's he saying?

They're asking us for food.

The German Army
endured five years of war,

five years of intense privations.

You know, short rations,

you know, insufficient fuel,
ammunition, everything else.

There's a feeling in the German Army
that you're just gonna

keep going until you're killed.

Hey watch him.
Keep an eye on them.

We'll get a medic out here.

- We'll patch you up.
- Just give me a cigarette.

I found something.
Check this out.

Keep your hands up.

They're so stunned

by Antolak's apparition in their midst.

I mean this guy crosses
200 yards of ground,

swept by fire, survives,

gets to the lip of their trench,

you know, with a Tommy gun
under his left arm.

I mean, game over!

Down! Down! Down! Now!

Sarge! Sarge! Sarge!

Sarge!

One thing that you're
gonna learn in combat, which is ironic,

you learn a lot about love.

When you're willing to put yourself
in front of that bullet,

in front of that suicide bomber,
in front of that mortar,

in front of anything that is
gonna pretty much kill you,

for your men, that's love.

Sylvester is one of the few
that's been able to go out there

and really, truly showcase
his love for his brothers.

And by that, he did the impossible.

Let's go!

One man against a machine gun nest

that blocked the road to Rome,

and three times he was cut down by fire,

three times he got back up,

tucking his gun under his shattered arm,

and by the time he disabled the gunners,

ten enemy soldiers surrendered to this man

whom their bullets could not stop.

Twelve days later,

the Allies would liberate
the Italian capital.

One man's extraordinary act,

a prism for an entire
fighting force's heroism,

and the critical victory it secured.

Rome falls.

Past the ancient Colosseum,

the first American armored column
enters the eternal city.

The infantry passes through
on the heels of the fleeing Nazis.

The first Axis capital to fall.

It gives you a sense
of how a small unit is part

of a much larger unit action,

which is larger and larger,

and that's what it takes,
this individual initiative,

individual courage,

and in some cases, individual sacrifice.

This is the ultimate commitment.

Sergeant Sylvester Antolak rests here

beneath the pines of Nettuno
with nearly 8,000 other soldiers.

But only Antolak's gravestone
and one other,

bear the designation
of the Medal of Honor,

the U.S. Military's
highest commendation for valor,

reserved for an act of personal bravery

involving risk of life
above and beyond the call of duty.

Though his grave lies
thousands of miles away,

the Antolaks don't have to look far
to be reminded of their family's history

and how it formed a young boy named
Sylvester in the twenties and thirties.

...but it's the one from May of 13,

where he replies
he just got to Italy.

- Right?
- Yeah.

Sylvester, "S." He didn't even spell
his name, just put "S."

And another one to Aunt Anne,
so he wrote home quite a bit.

I guess they were real close,
weren't they?

My uncle was 25 years old
when he went in the military,

and he was still on the farm.

And he was the second to the youngest.

He wanted to be a farmer.

Help his family
when he come back from the service.

The farm you see behind us
is the Antolak family farm,

where Sylvester grew up.
That's been in our family since 1923.

Our parents all grew up
on the farm the same way. Life was...

Life was hard. It was tough.

And this is depression-era time.

So, my uncle and my father,
they worked very hard just to survive.

My Uncle Sylvester was,
I believe, nine of eleven.

It's a big family.

My grandmother,
with two young children, you know...

setting off for a new life,

not knowing what she's going to encounter
when she gets here.

If that's not an example of courage
and determination, then nothing is.

We're very proud of the Polish heritage
that we're a part of,

and I'm sure that,
you know, Sylvester was as well.

When the army officer showed up
to notify of my great-uncle's death,

his mother didn't speak English at all.

She had to go out into the field
to bring in the boys

to be able to communicate
with the officers that showed up.

The Antolaks would hear
of Sylvester's unfathomable bravery,

and later learned
that the Secretary of Defense

deemed it worthy
of the military's highest award.

The military vehicle
picked up my grandmother at the farm

and my Aunt Anne and my Uncle Alec
also accompanied her.

And she went to Fort Hayes in Columbus.

Major General James Collins
placed the Medal of Honor

around the neck
of Sylvester's grieving mother, Mary.

She didn't speak about it.

It was just, you know,
it was her son that had died.

The Medal of Honor
is such a fabulous, you know, honor

to be bestowed upon any family.

And here in Ohio, our children
learn about this in Ohio history.

And when you're an "Antolak,"
with the last name of Antolak,

you're very proud.

Sergeant Antolak's actions
unquestionably

merited the Medal of Honor.

The Medal of Honor
is the ultimate form of recognition

for courage on the battlefield.
And, in fact,

in many cases, the individual
who earns the Medal of Honor

is killed in the course of that action.

The Medal of Honor
is held in a kind of awe

because the standards...

are so high to be a recipient.

Anybody who receives it is immediately
hailed as a hero like none other.

It is so rare and so distinguished
that it has to be witnessed

and people have to write reports
about why this person deserves it.

And in this case,
there were lots of witnesses

who probably never forgot this
to their dying day.

The road to recognition
for a Medal of Honor,

long and painstaking,
starts with eyewitness statements,

documents, and maps.

All of it used to build a compelling case,

which is submitted up the entire chain
of command to the Secretary of War.

And finally, the President.

The medal's design for the Army
is intricate and symbolic.

A five-pointed gold star
inside a cluster of laurel leaves,

symbolizing victory.

Each point topped
with an oak leaf for strength.

Variations of the medal
honor recipients from the Air Force,

Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard.

You know, as a soldier,

when you see someone wearing that...

blue ribbon with a Medal of Honor on it,
it chokes you up.

You know a lot of 'em didn't survive it.

The ones that did,
they're almost seen as super-human.

You hear the stories
and they're just so amazing.

Everybody looks up to them.

And it leads you to question,
"Could I do that in that situation?

Would I've had the guts to do that?"

What always impresses me, though,
is that they are, almost all of them,

very reluctant to talk about it...

very quiet-spoken.

They don't brag.

It's others
who tell their stories for them.

The Medal of Honor represents
usually the worst day of your life.

And we are recipients of this award.

We represent our nation,
our military service, and...

and really, every single one
of those individuals

that didn't come home and their families
by wearing this medal.

My uncle is buried over in Italy,

so we don't have a gravesite to go to.

A few years ago,
my cousin, Paul, his son, Cole,

for his Eagle Scout project,

put up a memorial at the city park.

I remember growing up
reading about my great-uncle

and being extremely proud.

I wanted to tell everybody.

I would... show my close friends
his citation and have them read it.

And so, I wanted to do something
where I could showcase Sylvester.

In 2016,

more than 70 years
after Sylvester Antolak's death,

an Ohio congressman helped pass a bill
that would name a local highway after him

in special tribute.

Keeping this legacy alive for each other,

and all those who pass through here,

is now a mission of the Antolak clan.

I was very proud of the dedication.

Everybody came.
All the relatives came.

So, Sylvester, we thank you

for your selfless and heroic actions,

your unrelenting devotion to duty,

and for the freedoms
that you helped secure for our nation.

It'll be special every time we...

um, pass the signage on I-70 and...

and know that, you know,
he'll be forever memorialized.

Unfortunately, you know,
all the siblings are gone.

How they would have...

How they would have loved
to have been a part of it.

The Medal of Honor
is more than a certificate,

more than a medal on a ribbon.

It's more even than recognition
for an act of the past.

It's a living testament speaking
across decades and continents

to grit and courage.

A message to all generations
that come after,

saying, "This has been done.

This. is possible."

They haven't won the Medal of Honor.

Uh, this isn't a sweepstakes or a lottery.

Um, they have earned it,
and they have earned it the hard way.

Again, the process by which
the decision ultimately is made

to award the Medal of Honor
is a very rigorous one, as it should be.

Uh, there can be debate about
is this a Medal of Honor

or a Distinguished Service Cross.

Both of these are extraordinary
forms of recognition

for courage on the battlefield.

Uh, it's very difficult to make that call,

although in Sergeant Antolak's case,

there is no doubt, again, in my mind,

uh, that he absolutely earned
the Medal of Honor.

That would've been one
that would've come through the process,

and I just have to believe
that every single leader at every level

would say "strongly recommend approval"
all the way to the final level,

uh, in which it is, indeed, approved.

Today, in the 15th Infantry Regiment,

we have one battalion left of the regiment

on active duty.
It's at Fort Stewart, Georgia.

When you go into
the Battalion Headquarters,

you come up there, on the third floor
of a barracks building,

and you walk out, and the first thing
you see is the Hall of Heroes,

which has the pictures of all regiment,
all twenty

15th Infantry Regiment,
Medal of Honor recipients,

and it's done alphabetically.

And guess who's first. Sergeant Antolak.

So, that's who you see.

He's there in a pantheon of 20 guys,

20 great American soldiers
who our soldiers try to emulate

uh, in their professionalism
and dedication to duty.

Everybody who serves
in the 15th Infantry is fully aware

of this great tradition we have
of heroism and professionalism.

And so I think in that sense,

his legacy continues to live today
as part of that bigger picture,

not just as an individual,
but as an example

of what non-commissioned officers are
expected to do when the time gets tough.

I remember one author one time wrote
that if you wanted to get a sense

of what it was to fight in World War II,
in these situations,

what you needed to do was
dig a trench in your front yard and...

and fill it with all your waste products
for a couple weeks and then sit in it

for a while, just to get a sense
of what the feel

and the smell and the filth was like.

In a place like Anzio, where you really
had very little freedom of movement,

especially in the daytime
when everything could be seen,

uh, people were locked in their foxholes.

They were always trying to keep
their heads down.

You had the smell of death all over.

You had the smell of cordite.
You had the...

uh, incessant smoke. Oftentimes,
the Allies themselves would use smoke

over the beachhead to try to cover it from

German observation and German aircraft,
so you had the smoke of the enemy fire,

you had your own smoke
in the air all the time,

the cries of the wounded,
the smells of the dead.

Uh, oftentimes, in the no man's land
between the two armies,

the dead would sit out there
and all you could do was

run out at night with something like lime

to try to put on the bodies
so they wouldn't smell.

Uh, you're just living with death
all the time.

You're living with the constant threat
of death all the time.

You know, I remember
in the memoirs of a British officer

on the beachhead, he said,
you know, "I don't know what to do.

If I lie on my stomach,
they shoot me in the arse,

and if I lie on my back,
they shoot me in the balls."

Um, so, you know, there was no escape
from the combination of machine guns,

mortars, 88s.

Uh, so, that's another one of Antolak's,
uh, ideas is to get forward, get...

The only way to rescue yourself
from this German defensive fire

was to move forward, disrupt
the German line, and push them back.

So, had his men been pinned down there,
they would have been destroyed.

I need to recognize my mother here today.

She's 94 years old.

She also was part of World War II.

She was one of the Rosie Riveters.

She went to Detroit, worked in a factory,

became an airplane inspector,
inspected airplane parts.

She was the best airplane inspector
in the plant.

If you don't believe me, ask her.

There was also
another eyewitness that day,

a very young sergeant at that time

who witnessed Sergeant Antolak's
bravery and valor that day.

What this young sergeant saw that day
definitely had a profound effect

on him throughout
the rest of his military life.

This young sergeant went on to become
a lieutenant in the Army,

and also the most decorated
combat soldier of World War II.

The man I'm talking about is Audie Murphy.

In his best-selling autobiography
titled To Hell and Back,

he mentions Sergeant Sylvester Antolak's
heroic efforts that day in May.

So, as this sign is erected tomorrow
along Interstate 70 near Exit 216,

our hope is that as Marion Ellis

and Audie Murphy were influenced
by Sergeant Antolak's bravery,

that those who drive by,

his influence will influence their lives
for the better

as he has influenced ours.

It's hard to say where
that courage comes from, uh,

in moments that ultimately result
in award of the Medal of Honor.

Uh, in many cases, the individuals,

uh, are not chest beaters,

they're not, you know, say, "See me."
They're not trash talkers.

They're not... they're just seemingly,

um, good, competent, solid soldiers,

marines, airmen, sailors.

And, something special,

uh, is there on that particular day,
in some cases it's there on many days.

But something happens to them

when the enemy engages them,

when they realize that
their fellow troopers are in harm's way,

and where they decide in an instant,
uh, to take action

that will not only not let down
their fellow soldiers,

uh, but help them survive

by putting one's own life at risk.

I've been blown up.
I haven't been shot.

Um, I've been blown up, literally,
by 50 pounds of homemade explosives,

but I know plenty of individuals
that have been shot.

It depends, though.
It depends what you get shot with.

Some will say that adrenaline kicks in,

which obviously,
in this case, had to kick in.

Sylvester Antolak
is a perfect example of it.

This man... is a good old American.

Just work hard.
And when his country was at war,

he served his country
to the best of his ability.

So much that he put his life on the line
and he died for his country.

He is one of many great examples.

In my life, I have Sergeant Major Griffin,

Major Gray, Major Kennedy,
and I got Ragaei Abdelfattah.

Four men that put their lives on the line
and died on the same day

that I was awarded the Medal of Honor for.

Now, those are the individuals

that the medal represents,
and their families.

They don't represent me. No.

The medal, to me,
is a responsibility as a courier

to remind myself
and everyone around me

of those individuals who are willing
to do everything that they can,

and the reason why they did it.

And that is why it is so important
for us to honor

their memories,

and honor their sacrifices.

It represents us.
It represents who we are as a nation.

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 the 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 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 handpicked

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 ten 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,

and 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.
And 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.

[audience applauds}