Medal of Honor recipients a disappearing breed

Last fall, just days after attending a kick-off ceremony for the Medal of Honor Society's national convention, recipient Leonard Keller was killed in a Florida motorcycle accident.

Two weeks ago, Vernon Baker, 90, a soldier who belatedly received a medal for his valor during World War II, died quietly at home in Idaho.

Though the deaths were months apart, they weren't isolated. Five of their medal-wearing comrades also have died since October.

With the Congressional Medal of Honor Society's September convention in Charleston approaching, the reality of "old soldier" mortality is catching up. From a group of 95 less than a year ago, their numbers have dropped to 88. The youngest, Gordon Ray Roberts, is 60. The oldest is Barney F. Hajiro, 93.

"Each (death) is tough," said Victoria Kueck, the society's director of operations at Patriots Point. When Kueck started with the society nine years ago, there were more than 150 recipients still alive. "I just never imagined there would be those amount of losses in that amount of time."

This year's convention, hosted by the S.C. State Guard Foundation and The Citadel, runs Sept. 29 through Oct. 3. Its theme is "Beyond Valor." A number of celebrities are expected to attend, including actor Stephen Lang, recently of the film "Avatar," NASA chief Charles Bolden and Wall Street Journal columnist Peggy Noonan.

A special highlight, set for Sept. 30 on board the aircraft carrier Yorktown, includes allowing the public to have something autographed -- such as a book or slip of paper -- by each surviving member.

Retired Marine Maj. Gen. James Livingston, of Mount Pleasant, also a medal recipient, hopes most of Charleston will take part in the convention and says it is an opportunity to speak to a disappearing breed.

As Livingston sees it, America has three unique fraternities in danger of vanishing: astronauts, prisoners of war and Medal of Honor recipients. The ranks of the latter two will disappear first, he said, just by the changing nature of war and its shift away from large-scale battlefields.

"I think it's a good chance for Charleston really to put its best foot forward and say that whatever happens, we want the Medal of Honor Museum here in perpetuity," Livingston said Thursday. "That we're that much committed to you guys and what you represent."

The Congressional Medal of Honor Society was chartered as a nonprofit organization in 1958, and Charleston already has a huge connection to the medal. The Congressional Medal of Honor Museum is housed onboard the aircraft carrier Yorktown and was feted as part of a nationally recognized celebration at its 2007 opening. The yearly conventions are where all the recipients, their widows and families gather under one roof.

Livingston joined this elite group as a result of action in the spring of 1968. He was wounded twice by grenade blasts but refused to leave the battlefield. He blew up bunkers behind enemy lines, killing 14 North Vietnamese. His weapon jammed, and he killed more enemy in hand-to-hand combat. Wounded by machine gun fire, he told his men to go on without him, but two refused, picking him up and dragging him away. He recently wrote about his experiences in his memoir "Noble Warrior."

The medal is the nation's highest military award. More than 3,400 have been awarded, about 60 percent posthumously. Six recipients came from Iraq and Afghanistan, all posthumously, as well. When the society's ranks fall to 25 surviving members, its own bylaws call for the group to formally disband.

With two months to go until the gathering, Livingston said he wants to remind the community as much as possible that the group is coming in what may be a last time to engage these men.

"I want to see the whole town turn out," he said.