Duane E. Dewey

"Once again, I take my gunner's .45 to see if I can scrounge up some more ammo. No luck. I get back to my position and I'm still upright when a grenade goes off behind my left heel. I get shrapnel in my leg and left buttocks. It puts me down. "Take over the squad," I holler to the gunner. "I've been hit." A hospital corpsman arrives and asks where I've been hit. I tell him, and as he's getting my britches undone to examine the injury, a second grenade rolls beside me. I grab it and I'm going to throw it. First impulse to get rid of it, right? But I'm lying flat on my back and I'm thinking I can't get this out of reach of my own men. So I scoop the grenade under my right hip and grab the corpsman. As I pull him down on top of me, I say, "Hit the dirt, doc. I've got it in my hip pocket." The grenade goes off. Takes us both off the ground. My body aborbs the full force of the explosion."

"My next words are, "Get me the hell out of here, I can't take much more of this." The corpsmen and the gunnery sergeat drag me to a bunker full of wounded men. As I'm given a shot of morphine, I think, "Okay, this is it. We're going to bleed to death, or the Chinese troops are going to come in here and finish us off. I'm looking Old Man Death right in the face." I don't pray for myself. I spend the rest of the night praying for my wife, Bertha, and my infant daughter, Arline. She was born right after I left for Korea. I pray that Bertha will find a good father for our daughter and a good husband for herself. Near daybreak, someone pokes their head inside and tells us the Chinese have pulled out. I'm sent to a field hospital, where I'm told I've also taken a bullet to the stomach. The blast put a good-size hole in my hip, but it missed my spine. I know how lucky I am to be alive."

"The Medal of Honor means a lot to me, but every time I put it on, I think about other Marines who deserve the award and didn't get it. I didn't do anything that somebody else in my position wouldn't have done."

"For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as a gunner in a machine-gun platoon of Company E, in action against enemy aggressor forces. When an enemy grenade landed close to his position while he and his assistant gunner were receiving medical attention for their wounds during a fierce night attack by numerically superior hostile forces, Cpl. Dewey, although suffering intense pain, immediately pulled the corpsman to the ground and, shouting a warning to the other marines around him, bravely smothered the deadly missile with his body, personally absorbing the full force of the explosion to save his comrades from possible injury or death. His indomitable courage, outstanding initiative, and valiant efforts in behalf of others in the face of almost certain death reflect the highest credit upon Cpl. Dewey and enhance the finest traditions of the U.S. Naval Service."

"Dad rarely feels comfortable talking about his time in Korea or his Medal of Honor until 2010, when he's invited to Gainesville, Texas- aka "The Medal of Honor Host City." Medal of Honor recipients are invited there to attend various celebrations, where they are introduced to and speak with city residents and are also taken to several local schools to meet students. The students go above and beyond in welcoming the recipients with personal escorts, patriotic decorations throughout the schools, and one-on-one interactions. The recipients sit in front of the auditorium or gymnasium and answer student questions or go in groups of two or three to visit different classrooms and briefly share their stories. Forty years after I asked him to come speak to my history class, Dad's finally in a place where he's willing to talk about his time in Korea and the Medal of Honor. From then until his health starts to fail, he returns to the event in Texas every year and also begins attending annual "Lest We Forget" gatherings in Benton Harbor, Michigan, to share his story with groups of adults. He also agrees to engage in multiple interviews and recordings about his experiences, as well as making several appearances with different military associations."

"My sons and I are often asked what it was like growing up with my dad, their granddad. To me, he is just a normal dad. To my boys, he is just their granddad. We are very proud of him, and it is wonderful to attend celebrations where he is recognized. We try to answer any questions asked if they arise. But, just like Dad, we're not the ones starting any conversations about his medal or what he has done. We are on a first-name basis with many of the Medal of Honor recipients. When you're with them, they're just ordinary people. It's easy to forget how special they are to the rest of the world, but I try my best to never let that happen. I know they are all special. I know they each did something phenomenal."