The Green Beret That Other Green Berets Look Up To

00:00:18
Speaker 1: This is Lee Habib, and this is Our American Stories, the show where America is the star and the American people. Roy Benavidez struggled in his school before dropping out in the seventh grade. He worked odd jobs to help support his family in a tire shop, on farms, even shining shoes at the local bus station. In 1952, he enlisted in the Texas Army National Guard and eventually became a member of the Army Special Forces, known as the Green Berets. One day in 1965, he was sent to Vietnam, where, on just a single action, he was wounded thirty-seven times by bullets, strapped a bayonet and a rifle butt, but his thoughts that day

00:01:04
Speaker 2: were on his injured brothers in arms.

00:01:07
Speaker 1: His actions that day saved eight other men’s lives in Vietnam. He was awarded the Medal of Honor for his bravery, but it wouldn’t be for thirteen years. In 1981, President Ronald Reagan presented Benavidez the Medal of Honor. Reagan turned to the press and said, “If the story of his heroism were a movie script, you wouldn’t believe it.” Let’s begin this story with President Reagan speaking at that ceremony, and later we will be hearing the details from Roy Benavidez himself.

00:01:42
Speaker 3: Let’s take a listen, men and women of the Armed Forces, ladies and gentlemen. Several years ago, we brought home a group of American fighting men who had obeyed their country’s call and who had fought as bravely and as well as any American in our history. They came home without a victory, not because they’d been defeated, but because they’d been denied permission to win. They were greeted by no parades. They were greeted by no parades, no bands, no waving of the flag they had so nobly served. There’s been no thank-you for their sacrifice. There’s been no effort to honor and thus give pride to the families of more than 57,000 young men who gave their lives in that far-away war. As the poet Lawrence Binyon wrote, “They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Aids shall not weary them, nor the years condemn, but the going down of the sun, and in the morning we will remember them.” Pride, of course, cannot wipe out the burden of grief born by their families, but it can make that grief easier to bear. The pain will not be quite as sharp if they know their fellow citizens share that pain. John Stuart Mill said, “War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. A man who has nothing which he cares about more than his personal safety is a miserable creature, and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.” Bob Hope, who visited our men there as he had in two previous wars, said of them, “The number of our GIs who devote their free time, energy and money to aid the Vietnamese would surprise you.” And then he added, “But maybe it wouldn’t. I guess you know what kind of guys your sons and brothers and the kids next door are.” Oh, yes, we do know. I think we just let its slip our minds for a time. It’s time to show our pride in them and to thank them. In his book The Bridges at Toko-Ri, novelist James Michener writes movingly of the heroes who fought in the Korean conflict. In the book’s final scene, an admiral stands on the darkened bridge of his carrier waiting for pilots. He knows we’ll never return from their mission, and as he waits, he asks, in the silent darkness, “Where did we get such men?” Almost a generation later, I asked that same question when our POWs were returned from savage captivity in Vietnam: “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. I have one more Vietnam story. And the individual in this story was brought up on a farm outside of Cuero in DeWitt County, Texas, and he is here today. Thanks to the Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger, I learned of his story, which had been overlooked or buried for several years. It has to do with the highest award our nation can give, the Congressional Medal of Honor, given only for service above and beyond the call of duty. Ladies and gentlemen, we’re honored to have with us today, Master Sergeant Roy P. Benavidez, U.S. Army, retired. Let me read the plain, factual military language of the citation that was lost for too

00:05:31
Speaker 2: long a time.

00:05:33
Speaker 3: “Master Sergeant Roy P. Benavidez, United States Army, retired, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life, above and beyond the call of duty. Where there is a brave man,” it is said, “there’s the thickest of the fight. There is the place of honor. On May 2, 1968, Master Sergeant, then Staff Sergeant, Roy P. Benavidez distinguished himself by a of daring and extremely valorous actions while assigned to Detachment B-56, Fifth Special Forces Group (Airborne), First Special Forces, Republic of Vietnam. On the morning of May 2, 1968, a twelve-man Special Forces Reconnaissance Team was inserted by helicopters in a dense jungle area west of Loc Ninh, Vietnam, to gather intelligence information about confirmed large-scale enemy activity. This area was controlled and routinely patrolled by the North Vietnamese Army. After a short period of time on the ground, the team met heavy enemy resistance and requested emergency extraction. Three helicopters attempted extraction, but were unable to land due to intense enemy small-arms and anti-aircraft fire. Sergeant Benavidez was at the Forward Operating Base in Loc Ninh monitoring the operation by radio. When these helicopters returned to offload wounded crew members and to assess aircraft damage, Benavidez voluntarily boarded a returning aircraft to assist in another extraction attempt.”

00:07:06
Speaker 1: And we’re taking you back to 1981 and to President Ronald Reagan presenting the Medal of Honor to Master Sergeant Roy Benavidez. When we come back, a bit more of Reagan, and then Benavidez himself here on Our American Stories. Lee Habib here, the host of Our American Stories. Every day on this show, we’re bringing inspiring stories from across this great country, stories from our big cities and small towns. But we truly can’t do the show without you. Our stories are free to listen to, but they’re not free to make. If you love what you hear, go to OurAmericanStories.com and click the donate button. Give a little, give a lot. Go to OurAmericanStories.com and give. And we returned to Our American Stories and the story of Roy Benavidez and President Ronald Reagan, who in 1981 presented Benavidez with the Medal of Honor for his heroism in the Vietnam War. On May 2, 1968, Benavidez, a devout Catholic, was attending a prayer service when he heard that a twelve-man Special Forces patrol team had inserted into a hornet’s nest of NVA. And that’s the enemy’s troops in Vietnam, numbering between 1,000 and 1,500. Here’s President Reagan, followed by Roy Benavidez himself to share the rest of the story.

00:08:50
Speaker 3: “Sergeant Benavidez voluntarily boarded a returning aircraft to assist in another extraction attempt. Realizing that all the team members were either dead or wound and unable to move to the pickup zone, he directed the aircraft to a nearby clearing, where he jumped from the hovering helicopter and ran approximately seventy-five meters under withering small-arms fire

00:09:12
Speaker 2: to the crippled team.

00:09:14
Speaker 3: Prior to reaching the team’s position, he was wounded in his right leg, face, and head. Despite these painful injuries, he took charge, repositioning the team members and directing their fire to facilitate the landing of an extraction aircraft and the loading of wounded and dead team members. He then threw smoke canisters to direct the aircraft to the team’s position. Despite his severe wounds and under intense enemy fire, he carried and dragged half of the wounded team members to the awaiting aircraft. He then provided protective fire by running alongside the aircraft as it moved to pick up the remaining team members. As the enemy’s fire intensified, he hurried to recover the body and the classified documents on the dead team leader. When he reached the team leader’s body, Sergeant Benavidez was severely wounded by small-arms fire in the abdomen and grenade fragments in his back. At nearly the same moment, the aircraft pilot was mortally wounded and his helicopter crashed. Although in extremely critical condition due to his multiple wounds, Sergeant Benavidez secured the classified documents and made his way back to the wreckage, where he aided the wounded out of the overturned aircraft and gathered the stunned survivors into a defensive perimeter. Under increasing enemy automatic weapons and grenade fire, he moved around the perimeter, distributing water and ammunition to his weary men, re-instilling in them a will to live and fight. Facing a buildup of enemy opposition with a beleaguered team, Sergeant Benavidez mustered his strength and began calling in tactical airstrikes and directing the fire from supporting gunships to suppress the enemy’s fire and so permit another extraction attempt. He was wounded again in his thigh by small-arms fire while administering first aid to a wounded team member just before another distraction helicopter was able to land. His indomitable spirit kept him going as he began to carry his comrades to the craft. On his second trip with the wounded, he was clubbed from behind by an enemy soldier. In the ensuing hand-to-hand combat, he sustained additional wounds to his head and arms before killing his adversary. He then continued under devastating fire to carry the wounded to the helicopter. Upon reaching the aircraft, he spotted and killed two enemy soldiers who were rushing the craft from an angle that prevented the aircraft door gunner from firing upon them. With little strength remaining, he made one last trip to the perimeter to ensure that all classified material had been collected or destroyed and to bring in the remaining wounded. Only then, in serious condition from numerous wounds and loss of blood, did he allow himself to be pulled into the extraction aircraft. Sergeant Benavidez’s gallant choice to join voluntarily his comrades were in critical straits to expose himself constantly to withering enemy fire, and his refusal to be stopped despite numerous severe wounds, saved the lives of at least eight men. His fearless personal leadership, tenacious devotion to duty, and extremely valorous actions in the face of overwhelming odds were in keeping with the finest traditions of the military service and reflect the utmost credit on him and the United States Army. Sergeant Benavidez: A nation, grateful to you and to all your comrades, living and dead, awards you its highest symbol of gratitude for service above and beyond the call of duty, the Congressional Medal of Honor.”

00:12:48
Speaker 4: Thank you, thank you very much, thank you, thank you. Okay, thank you very much. Monte, that, that, yes, like I say in Spanish; in German, “duncaschern”; Japanese, “howd I got on nan”; and in French, “METSI biou.” Thank you very much. I don’t speak those languages fluently, but I’ll never get lost in those countries ever I ever go there. I come from a little town in Cuero, Texas. I was born there in the turkey capital of the world. After the death of my mother and father at early age, my brother and I were adopted by nine uncle and we moved to uh, Campo, Texas, town southwest of Houston. By nine and a half, I was raised there. I went to school there. I work at our jobs, uh, chine shoes, sold papers, pig cotton, and like a fool, I dropped out of school and I ran away from home. I’m not proud of that. I needed to learn the skill. I needed an education. My adopted father would tell me, “Son, an education and a diploma is a key to success. Bad habits and bad company will ruin you.” Well, I was too old to go back to school. I didn’t wanna return back, so I joined the Texas National Guard, and I liked what I saw in men in uniform, and I qualified to join the Regular Army. I needed that education and learned the skill, so I was h accepted into the Regular Army. And I heard about the Airborne. I heard about that extra pay that you get for jumping out of aeroplanes. So I qualified to go to Jump School, Fort Benning, Georgia. But the during “recruitise” never told me what the train know what it’s like. For every mistake that you make, you do push-ups, and I can honestly tell you, ladies and gentlemen, I’m one of the guy that helth put Georgia into South Carolina doing push-ups. Well, I finished my training. I got assigned to a well-known unit at Fort Braggen, North Carolina, the 82nd Airborne Division. I liked ata second! Thank you! Airborne all the way! I like that, and so after a while there, heard about the Special Forces. You know, it’s as the Green Braves, and they were coming up. So I qualified to join the Special Force. Of course, I’m a linguist. We and the special Forces are trained to operate deep behind any lines. Was little and don’t support at all. We are training fire specialties. I’m training three operation intelligence, where I learned oceanographery me, geology of photography. I’m an interrogator, and I’m a linguist. I’m trained in lighting, heavy weapons, and cross trains domitic. I’ve been all over the world, Far East, Europe, South of Central America, and two tours in Vietnam. I was assigned to Battlin, Germany, and I was declared one time that I was the only Hispanic American that could speak German. Was a Southern accent. Feeling downer. So I came back and retrained at Fort Braggen, and Vietnam was brun up.

00:16:41
Speaker 1: And you’re listening to Roy Benavidez telling one heck of a story about his life, humble roots, hustling for work when he’s young, looking for structure, looking towards the future. A father was just rooting for him, praying for him, encouraging him. And he ends up well in the National Guard and ultimately a Green Beret. And what intelligence, what skill sets: light and heavy weapons, intelligence, a medic, master of many languages! “I was the only Hispanic American who could speak German with a Southern accent.” It doesn’t get any better than that, folks. That is the story of America. This guy is a walking diversity experiment, and it’s beautiful. And when we come back, we’re going to hear more from Benavidez. This is one heck of a story, one of our best. Here on Our American Stories. And we continue with Our American Stories and the story of Roy Benavidez, as told by Roy himself in front of a military audience.

00:18:21
Speaker 2: Let’s pick up where we last left off. Here’s Roy.

00:18:25
Speaker 4: In 1965, I was sent to vietnamans and advisor to Vietnamese infantry unit. After a short period of time there, I stepped on the mine. I woke up in the Philippine Islands in Clark Air Force Base. I was paralyzed from the waist down. I was declared never to walk again. I was transferred to Fort Sam Houston, Texas, Beach Pavilion. The doctors were initiating my medical discharge papers. But at night I would slip out of bed and crawl to a wall using my elbows and my chin. My back would just be killing me. I would be crying, but I’d get to the wall and I’d set myself against the wall, and I backed myself up against the wall, and I’d stand there like a lodger the Indian. I’d stand there and move my toes right and left, right. Every single chance I got A I got, and I wanted to walk. I wanted to go back to Vietnam because of what the news media was saying about us, that our presidents and not needed there. That burned the flying what, and I saw a lot of other patients coming back, limbs missing. I wanted to go buck. I was determined ’cause I remember when I was taught in Jump School an old Master Sergeant—whichever HA been—I mean, “Quitters never win and winners never quit.” What are you?

00:20:00
Speaker 3: So?

00:20:00
Speaker 4: I’m a winner! And I remember in my Spricial ward, and I remember in my Spricial Forces training, one of the training mansions that I was on. I remember that my leader would tell me, “Faith, determination, and a positive attitude.” A positive attitude would carry you further than the ability. You can do it, many ways you can do it. I never forgot those three words. Never. So there I was at night, slip out of bed. The nurses would catch me sometime, they would chew me out and give me a pill to sleep and Bill put me to sleep. They would tell the doctors in the morning, I would determine the woman. Nine months later, here comes my medical discharge paper and I told the doctor, “Doctor, look what I can do!” He just sort and I’m sorry, “Even if you can stand up, you’ll never be able to walk.” I s jumped out of bed and I stood up, running before him. My back was hurting ache and I was crying, and I moved just a little bed. The doctor said, “Ben, I mean if you walked out of this room, I’ll tear the papers up.” I walked out of that ward at Beach Pavilion. I walked out was a limp. I went back to Fort Burgh, North Carolina. I started my therapy again, running five and ten miles a day, doing 1,500 push-up and I made three pairtue jumps on one day. I was ready to go back to Vietnam. Physically and mentally ready to go back. My orders were to go to Central America as an advisor, but being an on commissioned officer and knowing some of the good offers in the right places, martyrs were diverted, so so so I went back to Vietnam in 1968, latter part of April. I was inserted, my buddy and I, to gather intelligent information behind enemy lines. As after two days on the ground, my buddy was shot through the eye, the backs and legs. Our mission was completed, but I didn’t wanna leave. My buddy was