David Bellavia Quotes

We have business on the battlefield, but when that's over, you look back and say, "I hope every person in our country can see a stranger as important as themselves." If you're willing to do things for them, I just think that's the meaning of life. I'm not going to get thanked, you're not going to know my name, you're not going to pay me, and I will still do it. The closest thing I've ever seen to God is when you see people sacrifice knowingly without any concern for themselves.

The Ramrods were part of the legendary 1st Infantry Division. Movies have been made on the Big Red One for its actions on D-Day and through Europe during World War II. The Fighting First fought in nearly every major American battle of World War I; it saw combat for five years in Vietnam before being forward deployed to Germany to face the Warsaw Pact/Soviet threat during the final decades of the Cold War. The Big Red One is the backbone of the American infantry. These days, it is sometimes overshadowed by the airborne divisions in the popular press. The 1st Infantry Division, with the Ramrods at the top of the spear, has won every battle it has fought since 1918.

Being empowered by our military service is the greatest gift you can ever receive. Knowing that you've been through worse and got through it is an amazing feeling. And you got through it because it wasn't about me. I wasn't doing it for me. I was doing it for other people. It wasn't ever about me. It was always about other people.

The only way to bridge the divide is if everyone realizes that we all have skin in the game. Everyone has to serve. Does that means they have to be in the military, that we should reinstate the draft? No. We all have to do something that's about doing something for someone other than ourselves. And we should realize that as soldiers, as warriors, we swore an oath of allegiance to a document, to the US Constitution. We were there protecting a document and what that document represents. We chose to go be uncomfortable so that others could remain in comfort. We didn't do it for our careers or our bottom line.

Honor. What an overused word. It's an abstraction. Who can define it? All year in Iraq, I've stood with my men. If they had to fill sandbags until three in the morning, I'd be out there in the dirt and mud with them. I would never give an order, then go relax as they worked. My example is all I have as a noncommissioned officer. I take pride in that. That is my honor. I've always told my men not to be afraid in combat. When the bullets start flying, they need to man-up and dish it back tenfold. How many times have I drilled this into them? Perhaps telling them to be unafraid is unrealistic. We're all human. Fear walks with us in every battle. Yet we cannot allow fear to dictate who we are and how we act. That is another essential element of honor.

Close behind Cantrell comes Staff Sergeant Jim, driving that glorious Abrams. First Platoon has no doubt benefited from their service. That battle's under control. Now they've come to bail us out.

Nothing against SEALs and Green Berets and other Special Operations units. They're elite. But there are a lot of just average, normal guys out there that do above-average things. They're a representation of what I believe is the American ethos. It's not necessarily a warrior ethos; it's something that we have in our DNA, and we've had it from our nation's inception. We overcome fear. People ask me, "What do you fear most in the world?" My answer is that I fear fear. I'm afraid of becoming afraid. You have to overcome it in every aspect of your life- whether that's asking that girl out on a date, applying for a job, killing a cockroach in the kitchen. There's something that you're going to have to face.

In the summer of 2005, I left the Army and returned to civilian life. It was the toughest decision I ever had to make. I loved being an NCO, and I missed it every day. After I returned home, I witnessed another battle raging on the television over Iraq. As other veterans of the Global War on Terror started to trickle home, we shared the feelings of the disenfranchised. We who sacrificed were being ignored by the World War II and Vietnam generations now holding seats of power in our government. I joined Wade Zirkle in forming Vets for Freedom, a nonpartisan political action committee dedicated to supporting our troops in both Iraq and Afghanistan. I want to believe the war is a noble effort, but I fear it may end ignobly.

In 2004 in Fallujah, we were involved in so many direct fire engagements. We made eye contact with the enemy. And we lost guys. That was a totally different experience, losing someone that way. You automatically had to address Okay, not only did that just happen, but someone made this happen. That person is still here. House fighting, especially in an urban environment, the sense you most rely on- hearing- is gone. You devolve into an almost animalistic being. Like, I'm smelling this guy. I see a pristine drinking cup on the counter and everything else is covered in dust and grime. A piece of cheese sits on a plate. There's a person here. You become a wolf- just sniffing the air and smelling. Everything stops. Your whole body freezes. You don't breathe. You don't think. All you do is become a single, focused thought: There's a threat here and it needs to be put down.

They name me the first living recipient to earn the Medal of Honor for bravery in the Iraq War. A coworker of mine reads about the award. "Hey, some guy with your name is getting the Medal of Honor. Isn't that weird? How many David Bellavias are out there?" "I know, right? It's so weird," I say. It's surreal and unnatural to get credit when you've lived your entire life to be about the team. It's never about the individual. I'm not here to celebrate me.
I decide to be the first guy to bring his entire unit to the ceremony. If I'm going to go through with this, I'm going to go with the guys that I did it with fifteen years ago. So I get the whole crew in. I bring thirty-two service members to the ceremony in the East Room at the White House in June 2019, including the twelve who were there with me on that night in 2004, plus five Gold Star families, the interpreter, and Mick Ware.

"Into the Hot Zone," the article Mick Ware writes about that night, is Time magazine's cover story less than two weeks later. I earn a Silver Star. But all I hear for ten years is, "Bullshit. I don't believe it. That didn't happen." Then I get a call from the military paper Stars and Stripes. "Hey, you're nominated for the Medal of Honor, did you know that? I hear there's a videotape. Do you have a comment? I'm immediately on the defensive. No one who's served in Iraq has received the US Armed Forces' highest military decoration, except posthumously. "What's on the tape? How did you find out?" The Army's trying to tell me that I'm getting the Medal of Honor, and I'm acting like they're trying to put me in jail. Turns out Ware sold a documentary to HBO. He filmed the entire firefight. Honestly, Ware's anti-war and pro-freedom for the press to tell the truth, but he's got the biggest balls of anyone I've ever met in my life. He was right there the whole time. Because of Michael Ware, everything is corroborated. He was recording the fight the entire time.

Today is my birthday. I'm twenty-nine. It's November 10, 2004. I'm a staff sergeant with 2nd Battalion, 2nd Infantry Regiment, stationed in Fallujah, Iraq. I'm near the end of a thirty-six-month "all others" tour away from my family, currently deployed to Iraq in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Fallujah had been abandoned for six months when we arrived in the late fall of 2004. During that time, four thousand to six thousand enemy insurgents have entrenched, preparing their defenses for our arrival. Bodies are all over the street, festering bacteria. Within a matter of days of our arrival, we've all suffered strep throat, fevers, and diarrhea. It's horrible. We engage in close-quarters combat, within a deadly two-foot radius. The enemy is a mix of highly skilled professionals and amateurs who fight with passion. We never know what we're going to encounter. I'm not bothered by fear. I'm fueled by it.

We're fine operating in the dark; we all have night-vision goggles. But the Marines issue them only to their leadership. We own the night; the Marines rent it.
We move to another house and prepare to clear it. A star shell bursts overhead, leaving us perfectly backlit for the enemy. The sudden bloom of light washes out our night vision. For a critical moment, we're exposed and blind. And then they send us scrambling as they commence shooting at our movement underneath their flares. Fucking Marines. As much as I love to point out their Semper-Fi-diocy, I am awed by their cohesive fire. When one Marine fires, so does his entire platoon. Their fire superiority is humbling, as I grab earth to avoid its death. Roll-playing for even two minutes as an insurgent is too long against a platoon or company of Marines. No matter what, you gotta respect that.

It's important to have different perspectives, and journalism supports that. Today, everyone has an opinion about everything. COVID-19 happens, and suddenly we're all research specialists posting our findings on Facebook or wherever. What we don't do is properly consider the sources of our material, our "facts." Everyone responds emotionally to everything. We paint millennials in a bad light: the iGeneration is awful; but the truth is that my parents' generation thought the same things about us. We were couch potatoes; we lived in our parents' basements until we were twenty-five. Then the Twin Towers fell.
Every generation is going to be tested. And some people are going to answer the call. Fortunately, I believe that many liberals shoot as straight as conservatives. I served with a lot of guys who hated George W. Bush and his reasons for taking us to war. Now they didn't vote for President Trump. But under fire, they saved my life and they made sure I came home. Those guys are my family. I love them to death. We argue about politics every single day, but we also see beyond that.

I believe that peer pressure is an incredible thing. We always seem to talk about it in negative ways. But sometimes peer pressure gets you through difficult times because it's impossible to take a step backward when everyone else is moving forward. The easiest job in the world is to lead. The most difficult job is to follow. You have to trust that guy out in front. You have to trust their guidance and do what it takes to not be the weakest link in the chain.