[Regarding other Medal of Honor recipients] I've never worked at a job to make money. I think most of them try to live up to the Medal and protect and not disgrace it. I have not met any that I would say did not deserve it. And they're a hell of a gang of people. You got every conceivable race, religion. What they have in common is courage, or the absence of fear in a critical situation. It's having courage when it counts.

I've come a long way since the day they first told me I'd been recommended for the Medal of Honor. That day, all I could say was "Fuck you," because that's what I really felt. A medal? For what? My buddies died that day. There is nothing to celebrate. I did what any of my fellow soldiers would have done, got lucky, and lived through it.

Six fellow soldiers also received the Medal of Honor with me on that warm, clear day in June, 1971. However, only one man stood beside me. Tragically, the other five were awarded posthumously. Such sorrow reflects the magnitude of the actions of those individuals who are considered for the CMH. A female lieutenant colonel once asked me if I knew why they gave me the medal. She asked the question in such a way that I took it as meaning she knew the reason- did I? Her question pissed me off. I thought, what the hell do you know? How could you, who have never seen combat, possibly know? I was preparing to give it to her with both barrels at the conclusion of her comment.
However, she said something profound that hit the nail right square on the head. She said, "They gave you the medal because they realize that something has happened to you that they can't understand."
You were absolutely right, ma'am. My apologies.

Recipients of the Medal of Honor really have little in common. They have been from every state, economic station, and ethnic group. But they have shared a strong sense of duty and of purpose and the motivating burden of personal responsibility at the perilous moment of decision. They feared death, but their biggest fear was failing themselves, their friends, and their nation, and thus they have been no different from the tens of millions of the other men and women who have served in uniform.
When the Japanese attacked on December 7, 1941, most Americans did not know where Hawaii was, let alone Pearl Harbor. And yet on the very next day, thousands of Americans rallied to the nation by offering their services in its defense. During World War II, almost every household made some contribution to the effort, and nearly half a million Americans sacrificed their lives so that hundreds of millions of others could live.

I never thought about it. I was sent there to participate, but they still wanted to know if there was anybody who would volunteer to pick these guys up. My answer is, 'It was the right thing to do. And I was the most logical person to do it.' By that time I was a military professional. My thoughts were: You should save your butt. The mission was to get the three guys, I got the three guys, and we got of there okay, and I'm happy. That's the limit of my thinking.
If you start thinking about medals, you're gonna lose your shirt. I've heard of several people who set out to win, not win, but be awarded the Medal of Honor, and, to my knowledge, every one of them got killed.

A Medal of Honor packet requires substantial paperwork- eyewitness statements, map, a unit report of the action, and other documentation. It's not something that gets lost. The chances of it being lost not once but twice are nearly impossible. Race, I believe, is a factor.

I had medals, but they were never presented because we were always in combat. So when I got my Medal of Honor, why, they found out that I had gotten the Silver Star in Germany, and then I got Bronze Stars in Africa and Sicily, and then I got a Bronze Star for D-Day for that action I did there, taking out that pillbox. Also the British Military Medal. I got the Silver Star in Germany before getting wounded for the fourth time. I got the Purple Heart three times. I could have had it four.

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.

In the early 1990s, I get a call from Lieutenant Colonel (Ret.) John Lock, a Ranger who is also a military historian. He asks for information on the Eighth Army Ranger Company and the Battle of Hill 205 for a book he was writing on Ranger history. I answer his questions. Lock says he feels my actions meet the requirements for the Medal of Honor. I'm not looking for any recognition, but Lock seems hell-bent on making his case. Lock starts his quest in 2003, submitting the upgrade packet in 2004. The upgrade is denied in 2007, as is an appeal in 2009. I beg Lock to stop wasting his time, but he presses on with subsequent appeals and pressure, finally achieving success in April 2021 when I receive a call from President Biden that my Korean Conflict Distinguished Service Cross had been upgraded to the Medal of Honor.
I'm told I'll be going to the White House to receive the award. South Korea's president Moon Jae-in will be attending and giving a speech. He'll be the first foreign leader to participate in a Medal of Honor ceremony. "Why all the fuss?" I ask. "Can't they just mail it to me?"

From then on, for me, it was just busy times with the Medal, but I had good teachers. A lot of the generals told me, 'Don't blow it. Watch your drinking. Don't cause any trouble because you've earned the highest medal. You're always gonna be showtime. You can't get a parking ticket.' And that's the hardest part, you can't... [live it up] like the old college days. But you've really got to watch yourself. And I think they knew that I've always been a "we" man, us." I don't think I'll ever change. That Medal could have gone to sixty-eight other guys that day, really could. So when I wear it, I wear it for everyone who's ever served. That's the way I look at the Medal.

So then we tried to use it as a platform to convince others to stop calling Medal of Honor men heroes, get rid of the word winner. Talk about recipients... Then, as president of the society in ninety-five, I tried to present it as a vehicle... We've received these medals on behalf of others. The important thing is to recognize that we are not special, and we are not different. We were just in a strange confluence of events, time and circumstance, where that which each of us has within us has emerged, both in those who wear the Medal and those who do not. So the important thing is to encourage respect for the potential that exist in people. Just as my men, who were written off by everybody, proved to be these fantastic, wonderful, legendary guys.

Ten years later, Ron Shurer, our medic, and I get the call that our Silver Stars have been upgraded to the Medal of Honor. I'm over in 3rd Group and still a team sergeant on an ODA when I receive the award. My community is small and tight-knit and quiet. If somebody wants to ask questions or talk about the medal, I'm more than happy to discuss it, but more often than not, they don't. Everybody understands that I'm just a guy. I never really wanted to do anything other than be a Green Beret. I want to continue to serve. I've made it a point to just be "Matt" and separate myself from the award. Now I find myself in leadership positions that are extraordinarily fulfilling because I'm able to give back to the younger guys. Do I highlight the heritage and history of the regiment by using my story to engage with these kids so they can learn more about the history? Or do I stay hidden? Frankly, I still haven't decided.

When I was decorated in 1969, there were 450 living recipients of the Medal of Honor. Today, there are only about one hundred, and the average age is near eighty. Statistically, in five years there will only be fifty or sixty still alive, and in less than fifteen years there will be none of us left. There has not been a living Medal of Honor recipient from any conflict since the war in Vietnam.

[Regarding his Medal of Honor citation] It says I removed my bulletproof vest and put it on somebody... I did not take off a bulletproof vest. I had a jacket, and I was treating the guy for shock, and what I did was put my jacket on him. And somehow that got misinterpreted and whatever.