One Mighty Oak: How the Smithsonian Honored Medal of Honor Recipients

I felt out of my element on Wednesday morning, November 10. There I was, at the corner of 12th Street and Constitution Avenue, N.W. in our nation’s capital, just off the National Mall. I was there at the request of Mothax, covering a ceremony that passed mostly unnoticed by the many drivers and pedestrians passing by, most of them federal workers and likely a few tourists. The sun was bright and warm, and I anticipated the beginning of the ceremony that sought to honor all 3,448 men who received the Congressional Medal of Honor over the past 148 years. As I stood on the sidewalk, just outside the Smithsonian Gardens next to the National Museum of American History, I gazed at the oak sapling that was the center of attention. It stood about six-and-a-half feet tall, a mere stripling compared to some of its big brothers in the small grove of trees. It was the brainchild of Smithsonian horticulturist Brett McNish as a way to pay tribute to the men who displayed “… conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty.” However, Mr. McNish wanted to go “above and beyond” with his simple oak sapling. He conceived the idea of obtaining dirt from a number of battlefields, in this country and around the world, where American fighting men gave their “last full measure of devotion.” He pulled a number of strings and obtained 16 samples, and planned on mixing them together to dedicate the oak sapling to the Medal of Honor recipients. This undertaking turned out to be far from simple, as the soil was collected with assistance from the State Department, the Department of Agriculture, members of the military and Kathleen Stephens, U.S. ambassador to the Republic of Korea. As I pondered such an enormous task, a procession came out of the American History Museum. It was led by the Color Guard of the Smithsonian Office of Protective Services. They were followed by about 50-75 persons, a mixture of veterans, family members and Smithsonian employees. After a few minutes, a member of the Smithsonian OPS sang our National Anthem. Then, the ceremony proper began. The first speaker was National Museum of American History associate curator David Allison. He spoke briefly; the one quote that I took away from his remarks was, “They gave their tomorrow for our today.” Next up was retired Air Force Lt. Gen. Nicholas Kehoe, president of the Congressional Medal of Honor Foundation. He gave brief remarks, then introduced Mr. McNish. One of Mr. McNish’s statements that struck me was, “Veteans protect the soil of our country.” After his brief statement, Mr. McNish introduced the “main man” of the ceremony… Medal of Honor recipient Brian Thacker is a very quiet, unassuming sort. He is 65 years old, a veteran of the Vietnam War. Former U.S. Army 1st Lt. Thacker received his medal for "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity" in Kontum Province, Republic of Vietnam on March 31, 1971. Perhaps the language of his MOH citation can better explain his acts:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity in action at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. 1st Lt. Thacker, Field Artillery, Battery A, distinguished himself while serving as the team leader of an Integrated Observation System collocated with elements of 2 Army of the Republic of Vietnam units at Fire Base 6. A numerically superior North Vietnamese Army force launched a well-planned, dawn attack on the small, isolated, hilltop fire base. Employing rockets, grenades, flame-throwers, and automatic weapons, the enemy forces penetrated the perimeter defenses and engaged the defenders in hand-to-hand combat. Throughout the morning and early afternoon, 1st Lt. Thacker rallied and encouraged the U.S. and Republic of Vietnam soldiers in heroic efforts to repulse the enemy. He occupied a dangerously exposed observation position for a period of 4 hours while directing friendly air strikes and artillery fire against the assaulting enemy forces. His personal bravery and inspired leadership enabled the outnumbered friendly forces to inflict a maximum of casualties on the attacking enemy forces and prevented the base from being overrun. By late afternoon, the situation had become untenable. 1st Lt. Thacker organized and directed the withdrawal of the remaining friendly forces. With complete disregard for his personal safety, he remained inside the perimeter alone to provide covering fire with his M-16 rifle until all other friendly forces had escaped from the besieged fire base. Then, in an act of supreme courage, he called for friendly artillery fire on his own position to allow his comrades more time to withdraw safely from the area and, at the same time, inflict even greater casualties on the enemy forces. Although wounded and unable to escape from the area himself, he successfully eluded the enemy forces for 8 days until friendly forces regained control of the fire base. The extraordinary courage and selflessness displayed by 1st Lt. Thacker were an inspiration to his comrades and are in the highest traditions of the military service.

Despite the microphone at the rostrum, I could just barely hear Mr. Thacker’s remarks. He did express the hope that the oak sapling will still be there in 100 years, still “providing acorns for the squirrels.” After he spoke his piece and sat back down, Mr. McNish again took the microphone. He described the efforts of the people who assisted in getting the many soil sample for this memorial oak. Sitting on a table next to the rostrum were 16 glass bottles, labeled with the names of battles, nations or wars. Mr. McNish then invited various members of the audience to come forward and empty the contents of the bottles into a wheelbarrow of dirt sitting next to the sapling. The soil came from the following locations: Guilford Courthouse, North Carolina (Revolutionary War) Mexico City, Mexico (Mexican-American War) Antietam Creek, Maryland (American Civil War) Manila, the Philippines (representing the Spanish-American War) China (the Boxer Rebellion) France (several locations, for World War I) Iwo Jima, Normandy, Tunisia and Luxembourg (World War II) [the Luxembourg sample was taken from the grave of Gen. George S. Patton] Anzio, Italy (also World War II) Pusan Perimeter and Inchon Beach (Korea) China Beach and Hanoi (Vietnam) Mogadishu (Somalia) Balad/Camp Anaconda, Baghdad (Iraq war) Kabul (Afghanistan war) When all the bottles were emptied, Mr. McNish then invited Mr. Thacker to deposit the first spadeful of dirt around the oak sapling. Using one of the entrenching tools protruding from the mound of dirt in the wheelbarrow, Mr. Thacker gently deposited some of the dirt at the base of the sapling. Mr. McNish then invited anyone in the audience to come forward and add dirt to the mound surrounding the memorial oak. After several minutes, the ceremony ended. The color guard returned, collected the flags, and returned to the Smithsonian. Many of the attendees milled about, talking and reminiscing with each other. As the ceremony was winding down, a woman walking by stopped to watch the proceedings. I have no idea who she was, a tourist or an office worker. She quietly asked me the significance of the ceremony, and I told her. I also pointed out Mr. Thacker, distinguished from the rest of the crowd by the powder blue ribbon around his neck, his Medal of Honor evident. The lady said nothing, but stood quietly by, watching and listening. After the ceremony, she walked around the tree, looking it up and down for a while. She approached Mr. Thacker, said a few words to him, and they shook hands. The woman then went over to the wheelbarrow, picked up one of the shovels and added a further spadeful of dirt to the mound at the base of the oak. Then, the woman reached to one of the lower branches of the sapling, and plucked one of the smaller leaves from the branch, placing it in her pocket. She removed her sunglasses, looked the small tree up-and-down once more, then briefly glanced skyward. I noticed her eyes were slightly moist…After a brief moment, the woman replaced her glasses, then slowly walked off through the grove in the direction of the American History Museum. “As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.” ***** John F. Kennedy