You are looking at a man playing with a monkey.
We've all got photos like this: clowning around, having fun.
But not all of us end up heroes. This was Airman First Class William H.
Pitsenbarger. Pits. You've probably heard of him because of the way he died.
You should remember him because of the way he lived.
April 11th 1966. The Battle of Xa Cam My. Charlie Company had been led into an
ambush. Heavy casualties. Perimeter failing. Requesting immediate help to get
men out. The army helicopters wouldn't go in because it was too dangerous, but an
Air Force pararescue unit overheard the call and volunteered to go in anyway.
Nobody woke up that morning knowing that history would look back at this as one
of the bloodiest days of the Vietnam War. For Pits, it was his day off.
Naturally, he volunteered to come along.
He was dropped down into the firefight as the Air Force Huskies hovered. The
helicopters were receiving heavy fire. Charlie Company was receiving heavy fire. Soldiers lay wounded and dying and they were running out of ammo. Pits was there
to retrieve casualties, care for the wounded, and get them up into the
helicopter and back to base as quickly and as safely as possible.
He put the better part of a dozen wounded aboard the Huskies, and then
waved off his ride home. The helicopter was heavy with the wounded and dead. To
this day, the pilot doesn't know if he could have made it out of there with
Pits on board. Why did William H. Pitsenbarger stay behind? Our lives are
made up of moments and choices. Pits was a PJ who completed over 300 rescue
missions in Vietnam. He had nothing to prove. He knew exactly what he was
looking at. This was a slaughter, and in that moment, he chose the stay. As the
fighting went on through the night, he saved the wounded, and gathered guns and
ammo from the dead in the cover of darkness. He snuck outside the perimeter
to bring back men that had been hit. He covered up one wounded soldier with two
dead bodies and told him to stay down. That soldier watched Pits take his
first bullet. It's hard to say how many members of Charlie Company owe their
lives that night to William H. Pitsenbarger. He was shot three times and never
stopped. He cared for the wounded, shot back at the muzzle flashes and when he
could, he looked into the eyes of men who knew they were dying and just wanted him
to hold their hands so they wouldn't feel alone.
The next morning, April 12th, 1966, when the battle was over, most of Charlie
Company had been annihilated. During the fight the Viet Cong would sneak into the
perimeter and kill the wounded. Pits lay among the casualties. There was a bullet
hole in the forehead of a gas mask he wore. The pararescue emblem is an angel
with her hands around the world. William H. Pitsenbarger was no angel. He was a
ladies man. He was a clown. He was known to be reckless and foolhardy in his
youth. He was a stock boy from a small town who told his parents on New Year's
Eve that he was jumping a train that night to report for duty in the Air
Force. He was Pits. He was an airman. And he was awarded the
Medal of Honor. We don't win the Medal of Honor. This is not a contest. We're not
asking you to die for your country. In fact, that's the last thing Pits would
want. Simply ask yourself: why did he stay? This was not a man who died the right
way. This was a man who lived the right way. By living the core values. We lead
the way by showing the way. Remember William H.
Pitsenbarger. Remember these things he did that others may live. Aim high, Airman.