Stealing Valor | HistoryNet

Attempted stolen valor by NCOs is shameful, but not recognizing a Purple Heart recipient who helped to repel an ambush and recommended for a medal for bravery (Bronze Star) went unrecognized. That may have been worse. From the article:

"I also processed our unit’s other awards and decorations. I wrote an official recommendation based on affidavits supporting the soldier’s combat actions, took it to the officer in charge for his signature and then sent the recommendation up the chain of command. The paperwork would be closely examined, primarily to ensure the recommended medal was appropriate for the specific action, but also to look for signs of fraud. Commanders with approval authority for specific awards could accept a recommendation, reject it or downgrade it to a lesser award.

We received informational copies of Medal of Honor citations awarded to the troops in Vietnam so they could be posted on bulletin boards for inspiration. I read them, but knew I would not be writing any recommendations for that lofty award. The Army did its best to keep us away from the action because our highly specialized skills and Top Secret/Crypto security clearances made us hard to replace. We were expected to avoid activities that would draw unwanted attention and essentially “hide in plain sight.”

My best friend at the 156th Aviation Company was Spc. 4 Bill, a skinny 19-year-old military policeman from Tennessee whose family had a history of military service going back to the Civil War. Bill—I lost track of him after he was transferred and don’t remember his last name—would show up at guard duty formation with his M1911A1 .45-caliber pistol, M16 rifle, several edged weapons, a few grenades, a 12-gauge shotgun and an old M2 carbine he had acquired on the black market because it was being phased out by the Army.


Bill’s fellow MPs teased him about his mass of weaponry, and he also got an earful from the unit’s senior noncommissioned officers who were not in the ASA. Ironically, those same sergeants had given Bill a rationale for his heavy armament. They had been exaggerating the impact of the Tet Offensive. Although the Viet Cong attacked the airfield and destroyed parts of Can Tho, the senior NCOs’ war stories sounded more like the Battle of the Alamo. They regularly yelled at our perimeter guards, warning them that the VC were “still out there” and “more powerful than ever.” Bill knew that Tet had come as a surprise to many and wanted to be ready. So he remained quietly defiant.

When I reached the 156th, the person who had managed the awards detail was long gone. In addition to numerous Air Medal forms to be processed, there was a stack of combat award nominations for the defense of the airfield. They included Silver Star and Bronze Star medals, a Distinguished Service Cross and Army Commendation medals with “V” devices.

Those recommendations, supposedly written by my predecessor, were all correctly typed and carefully documented, with the required affidavits attached. One of the soldiers recommended for an award harassed me for not having sent the paperwork to headquarters for the signature of the officer in charge.


That prompted me to read the affidavits again. I noticed that a soldier recommended for one award would be supported by those recommended for other awards. All the men mentioned were career NCOs who had come to the unit from the regular Army. The whole thing stank of unethical collusion, but as a newbie and a private I didn’t have the authority to decline an award submission.

The officer in charge, a captain, was a pilot who hated paperwork and grumbled when I asked him to read each recommendation before signing it. But I insisted that he read the recommendations closely. The captain grumbled some more, like a kid wanting to go out and play rather than do his homework, but then got wise to my pleadings.

“What’s going on, Hamit?” he asked. “I know you. You’re up to something.”


“Please, sir, just read them. Think of it as a field problem.” He did, becoming more and more interested. He got to the bottom of the pile, and asked, “Hamit, where are the Purple Hearts?”

Even though the documents contained language such as “despite his wounds, he continued to advance,” there was not a single Purple Heart form. The captain’s face flushed as he realized that he had been reading fiction.

I had checked around and learned that the events described in the recommendations never happened. None of the phony recommendations were for our MPs, who were actually defending ASA’s part of the perimeter and would have been engaged had there been a fight. The sergeants recommending each other for awards had been back at the barracks as a reserve force."