This article was originally
published on Yellow Hammer News and is written by Cliff Sims .
Bennie Adkins turned 82 on Feb. 1. Exactly 50 years ago, Mr. Adkins was in the
jungles of Vietnam. He returned to the United States a legend among Army
Rangers, and almost a half-century later was awarded the Medal of Honor for
personal acts of valor above and beyond the call of duty during the Vietnam
War.
So numerous and heroic were Adkins’ battlefield
exploits that President Obama started his remarks at the White House Medal of
Honor ceremony by saying that there was no way there would be enough time to
describe them all. At another point he paused to simply say, “you can’t make
this stuff up.”
Here’s a lightly edited transcript of the
official citation, which details a portion of Adkins’ incredible story:
When Adkins’ camp was attacked by a large
North Vietnamese and Viet Cong force in the early morning hours of March 9,
1966, Sergeant First Class Adkins rushed through intense enemy fire and manned
a mortar position continually adjusting fire for the camp, despite incurring
wounds as the mortar pit received several direct hits from enemy mortars.
Upon learning that several soldiers were
wounded near the center of camp, he temporarily turned the mortar over to
another soldier, ran through exploding mortar rounds and dragged several
comrades to safety. As the hostile fire subsided, Adkins exposed himself to
sporadic sniper fire while carrying his wounded comrades to the camp
dispensary.
When Adkins and his group of defenders came
under heavy small arms fire from members of the Civilian Irregular Defense
Group that had defected to fight with the North Vietnamese, he maneuvered
outside the camp to evacuate a seriously wounded American and draw fire all the
while successfully covering the rescue.
When a resupply air drop landed outside of the
camp perimeter, Adkins, again, moved outside of the camp walls to retrieve the
much needed supplies.
During the early morning hours of March 10,
1966, enemy forces launched their main attack and within two hours, Adkins was
the only man firing a mortar weapon. When all mortar rounds were expended,
Adkins began placing effective recoilless rifle fire upon enemy positions.
Despite receiving additional wounds from enemy rounds exploding on his
position, Adkins fought off intense waves of attacking Viet Cong.
Adkins eliminated numerous insurgents with
small arms fire after withdrawing to a communications bunker with several
soldiers. Running extremely low on ammunition, he returned to the mortar pit,
gathered vital ammunition and ran through intense fire back to the bunker.
After being ordered to evacuate the camp, Adkins and a small group of soldiers
destroyed all signal equipment and classified documents, dug their way out of
the rear of the bunker, and fought their way out of the camp.
While carrying a wounded soldier to the
extraction point he learned that the last helicopter had already departed.
Adkins led the group while evading the enemy until they were rescued by
helicopter on March 12, 1966.
During the thirty-eight hour battle and forty-eight hours of
escape and evasion, fighting with mortars, machine guns, recoilless rifles,
small arms, and hand grenades, it was estimated that Adkins killed between 135
and 175 of the enemy while sustaining eighteen different wounds to his body.
When that last line was read aloud, there was
a collective, audible gasp throughout the assembled crowd of friends, family,
press and members of the military in the East Room of the White House.
Every member of Adkins’ unit was either killed
or wounded during the 48-hour ordeal detailed above. Two of the men he saved
were able to attend the event. After the ceremony, Adkins’ thoughts quickly
turned to the other heroes with whom he served.
“This Medal of Honor belongs to the other 16
Special Forces soldiers with me,” he said.
President Barack Obama awards the Medal of Honor to Army Command
Sergeant Major Bennie G. Adkins in a ceremony at the White House Sept. 15, 2014
(Photo: Cliff Sims)
Medal of Honor recommendations usually must be
made within two years of the act of heroism and must be presented within three
years. Adkins received his some 48 years after the fact.
So why did it take so long for Adkins to be
recognized?
“In 2009, Command Sergeant Major Adkins’
family contacted my office and told us that they were going to try to get this
wrong righted,” U.S. Rep. Mike Rogers, Adkins’ congressman, told Yellowhammer.
From that moment forward, Rogers made it his
personal mission to make sure Adkins received the honor he was due.
Rogers immediately moved for there to be a
review of Adkins’ records. Fortunately, all of the documentation the Army
compiled after Adkins’ heroic efforts — including first-hand accounts from
American soldiers who are still alive — had been preserved by the Pentagon.
According to the documentation, Adkins was
nominated for the Medal of Honor shortly after the battle by his chain of
command. In doing that, his commanding officer, who was in the battle with him,
wrote a five-page narrative detailing what had happened. The Army then took
statements from every soldier who was with him and documented all of the
communications that took place during the battle.
But as the recommendation worked its way up
the chain of command to the general officer level, they inexplicably decided
Adkins’ actions merited the Distinguished Service Cross, the nation’s second
highest military honor, rather than the Medal of Honor.
When Congressman Rogers’ office started
pushing for the Army to revisit Adkins’ story, there was a treasure trove of
original battlefield information still intact.
Command Sgt. Maj. Bennie G. Adkins participating in a press
conference just after receiving the Medal of Honor at the White House, Sept.
15, 2014. (Photo: Staff Sgt. Bernardo Fuller)
“You’ve got to get the documentation that
supports the review,” Rogers said, explaining the process. “Then the Secretary
of Defense has to review it and decide that he would like to see it recommended
to the president. After that happened, we had to go back and get an exception
to the law, which says that the Medal of Honor must be awarded within three
years of the event. So we had to get Congress to pass a law to say this
deserves an exception.”
Rogers lobbied his colleagues incessantly.
“There was a lot of resistance, surprisingly,”
he said. “But one thing that really helped was that Secretary (of Defense)
Hagel was asking for this. He had reviewed it and felt like it was an injustice
that needed to be remedied. It finally got passed, but it took several months.”
In addition to lobbying Congress, Rogers also
had to make his case to the White House, who would not normally be receptive to
the requests of a Republican congressman from Alabama.
“We spent several months pestering the
president’s office,” Rogers laughed. “Fortunately they did the right thing.”
“Sometimes even the most extraordinary stories
can get lost in the fog of war or the passage of time,” President Obama said.
“When new evidence comes to light, certain actions can be reconsidered for this
honor, and it is entirely right and proper that we have done so.”
As for the reason why Adkins and other
deserving soldiers were not properly honored initially upon their return,
Rogers said he was not exactly sure, but believes it could have been a
combination of the post-war political climate, as well as prejudice.
“There were clearly some prejudices involved
when you look at who was and wasn’t recognized after Vietnam,” he said. “Some
folks were of a different race, some folks were a certain religion, and some
folks were from the South. So there was some of that involved. It may have been
because Bennie was a southern boy. You never know.”
In late September of 2014, all of the efforts
of Adkins’ family and Rogers’ office came to fruition. Four of the five living
men whose lives were saved by Adkins between March 9 and March 12, 1966 joined
him at the White House in a scene that had been a half-century in the making.
Adkins, who usually walks with a cane, rose
unassisted and stood at attention as the President of the United States
bestowed upon him his nation’s highest military honor. Adkins’ chin quivered
ever so slightly as President Obama placed the medal around his neck. His wife
of 60 years, Mary, beamed with pride on the front row, smiling as she wiped
tears from her eyes.
Adkins snapped off a perfectly formed salute
to the crowd before exiting the stage.
“This Medal of Honor belongs to the other 16
Special Forces soldiers with me,” he would later say with genuine humility.
And as the Army Chaplain led the audience in a closing prayer,
Bennie G. Adkins of Opelika, Ala., stood once more to honor the One who had
always been with him, from the jungles of Vietnam to the East Room of the White
House and everywhere in between.
