Courage

There are many types of courage in this world. I have seen many great people do many great deeds, but nothing like the night I saw him. His name was Sam O’Hare. Never have I seen such a hero in my life. The story began about 50 years ago when I was just about 19.
World War III is what I think it was… yes that’s what it was. Anyway, it was another cold night on the streets of Moscow, Russia. It looked like a ghost town. The dead silence sent chills down my spine. Every once in a while there was an eerie howl of the wind. One could see faint streams of smoke slowly drift from the broken down abandoned buildings just after another battle. No one could tell if daylight had come yet. The sky what so thick with smoke that it blocked out the sun. There were absolutely no signs of life, save for the men in the camp we set up. I couldn’t look at the ghost town any longer. So I shuffled back to the camp. Immediately the stench of blood filled my nose. The sight of camp was not much better. There were random tents set up among the grey soot. Each tent was barely glowing from the lanterns inside. CRUNCH, CRUNCH was the sound of each step I took. Every soldier I looked at looked as if their very soul had been ripped out of their bodies, including me. Nobody was without a bandage and I guess it was not much different on the other side either. The battle was not yet won by anybody. It was a blood bath that day, and I hoped that would never happen again. But deep down I knew that it would.
Two days later…
“Yo Pauli, time to get a move on.” Sam yelled to me.
Yes, my name is Pauli. I’m Italian. I was about six feet in height (this was 50 years ago), and have light greenish blue eyes. My posture was sort of slouched and I had a military cut, of course, and a stocky build. I have always had a little smirk on my face, even today.
I bet you’re wondering who Sam is. Well, his full name is Sam O’Hare. He was the guy yelling my name. He was about 6 feet 3 inches tall and was a very broad shouldered man. He was Irish, so he spoke with a deep Irish accent. He had a deep rusty orange colored, thick beard and brown eyes that showed a lot of wisdom and have seen a lot of battle. One of the most important factors was he was captain of our squad.
Let me quickly go over the people in my squad. Ah, there was Jim, he had a lean build with blue eyes, dark brown hair and was American, along with his brother Joe. They were twins and always made smart comments. Then there was Bob who was also American and had a very southern, American accent. He was very built, with skin that was mildly tan. He was the only one with blonde hair in our squad and never liked to talk about his personal life much.
Oh yeah, getting back to the story. I replied to Sam with a strong “Yes, Sir!” and immediately packed my belongings and dashed out of there as quickly as possible. Anywhere was better than that place. Each squad split up to go to different locations around Russia. I guess it was some weird strategy. Hours passed since we left camp; at least it felt like hours. We were moving towards the center of Moscow, right for St. Basil’s Cathedral. Everyone was silent until Joe broke the silence and tried to lift up everyone’s spirits by asking, “Hey, listen to this.” Then he asked Jim with a grin, “Jim, What's the most famous coffee in Afghanistan?”
“I don’t know what is it?” Jim replied with a similar grin.
“Osama Bin Latte!” After he said that only they were the ones hysterically laughing. Everyone else still had that same depressed silent mood. I have to admit I did smirk a little.
“Would you guys cut it out?” Bob exclaimed. “We’re in a very series situation and no one needs your stupid jokes around here!”
“Come on Bob, lighten up.” I said.
“Lighten up?! How am I supposed to lighten up w-”
All of the sudden Sam interrupts “Everyone shut up! Do you hear that?” We all came to a halt and intently listened. I glanced up at the grey sky and didn’t notice anything but I could hear a faint whistle.
“WE HAVE BEEN SPOTTED!” Bob blurted with urgency.
“MOVE, NOW!” Sam screams at us. Then I realized what was going on. Someone set off a flare. The sparkling red dot in the air was crystal clear. Suddenly I was engulfed in complete fear. So I instantly began to sprint down the abandoned streets of Moscow as fast as I could, not paying any attention to my surroundings. My lungs were on fire and my legs felt like bricks, but that didn’t stop me. I don’t know how long I ran. Time seemed to have stopped when I was running. All I did know was that I was lost, completely lost. First I checked my surroundings. I noticed a jet black river right in front of me, frozen solid. Behind me was Moscow and everywhere else seemed like a never ending world of snow. I was on the outskirts of Moscow, right by the Volga River.
At least I know what I’m looking at. I thought to myself. But there was something else wrong. My squad! Bitter dismay cloaked over me. Wait, do I hear gunshots? Yes, those are gunshots! I listened around for the faint sound. It was the only chance of finding my squad. t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t. There it is again! I quickly followed it. Other than the gun fire, there was the deep sallow panting I was producing and the crunch of snow beneath my feet. T-T-T-TT-T-TT-T-TT-TT-. I was getting closer with each step.
“Pauli! Get your butt over here!” someone yelled. It was Bob; he is the only one with a southern American accent. Without responding I leaped over to the cover spot behind a crumbled up wall in the middle of a worn down road. I could see Joe and Jim on to the left taking cover behind an old rusty truck. Their usual grin was wiped clean off their faces and was replaced with a look of worry. I couldn’t find Sam anywhere. A sharp sting hit my face.
“Pauli? Pauli!” Bob was yelling at me. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“What?” I replied dumbly.
“We have to get out of here, there are too many of them!” he repeated. I managed to peak over the wall to see that they had two camouflage trucks full of soldiers shooting at us and driving towards us full speed. They were no more than 100 yards away. We were taking heavy fire, but then it all stopped. All I could hear was a couple of people talking in the distance. It was in English. I took another peak over the wall and noticed a tall broad shouldered man in the distance. I nudged Bob with my gun and whispered,
“It’s Sam.” Every one of us was looking at the Russian and the Irishman negotiating with each other. The Russian had a gun to Sam’s chest while Sam had his hands in the air. I tried to make out the words and this was what I got out of it,
“I surrender, don’t shoot!” Sam exclaimed.
“Why?” The Russian asked.
Fool! I thought to myself, he’s going to get himself killed.
“What is he doing?” Jim spat with anger. Sam and the Russian were still talking, but this time Sam checked behind him and I could see him give me the slightest nod and that’s when I knew.
“Guys, we have to go, now!” I commanded.
“But, we can’t just leave Sam here alone th-” Joe argued
“Now.” I interrupted.
“Pauli’s right guys, we’re wast’n time. This is what Sam wants.” There was no more arguing. We all hopped in the old rusty truck Joe and Jim took cover behind and raced out of there as fast as possible. I looked back and saw Sam in the distance and heard one last shot of gunfire and saw Sam collapse to the ground.
It has been fifty years since that happened and it still brings bitter tears to my eyes. I learned that day that courage takes a lot of sacrifice. Sometimes we might even need to sacrifice our own lives, but in the end, it is definitely worth it. Sam O’ Hare couldn’t save his own life that day, but he did save four others. I believe this doesn’t just apply to my own story. I think it applies to every situation that would help stand up for others. That is what I learned from Sam O’Hare.




Courage

There are many types of courage in this world. I have seen many great people do many great deeds, but nothing like the night I saw him. His name was Sam O’Hare. Never have I seen such a hero in my life. The story began about 50 years ago when I was just about 19.
World War III is what I think it was… yes that’s what it was. Anyway, it was another cold night on the streets of Moscow, Russia. It looked like a ghost town. The dead silence sent chills down my spine. Every once in a while there was an eerie howl of the wind. One could see faint streams of smoke slowly drift from the broken down abandoned buildings just after another battle. No one could tell if daylight had come yet. The sky what so thick with smoke that it blocked out the sun. There were absolutely no signs of life, save for the men in the camp we set up. I couldn’t look at the ghost town any longer. So I shuffled back to the camp. Immediately the stench of blood filled my nose. The sight of camp was not much better. There were random tents set up among the grey soot. Each tent was barely glowing from the lanterns inside. CRUNCH, CRUNCH was the sound of each step I took. Every soldier I looked at looked as if their very soul had been ripped out of their bodies, including me. Nobody was without a bandage and I guess it was not much different on the other side either. The battle was not yet won by anybody. It was a blood bath that day, and I hoped that would never happen again. But deep down I knew that it would.
Two days later…
“Yo Pauli, time to get a move on.” Sam yelled to me.
Yes, my name is Pauli. I’m Italian. I was about six feet in height (this was 50 years ago), and have light greenish blue eyes. My posture was sort of slouched and I had a military cut, of course, and a stocky build. I have always had a little smirk on my face, even today.
I bet you’re wondering who Sam is. Well, his full name is Sam O’Hare. He was the guy yelling my name. He was about 6 feet 3 inches tall and was a very broad shouldered man. He was Irish, so he spoke with a deep Irish accent. He had a deep rusty orange colored, thick beard and brown eyes that showed a lot of wisdom and have seen a lot of battle. One of the most important factors was he was captain of our squad.
Let me quickly go over the people in my squad. Ah, there was Jim, he had a lean build with blue eyes, dark brown hair and was American, along with his brother Joe. They were twins and always made smart comments. Then there was Bob who was also American and had a very southern, American accent. He was very built, with skin that was mildly tan. He was the only one with blonde hair in our squad and never liked to talk about his personal life much.
Oh yeah, getting back to the story. I replied to Sam with a strong “Yes, Sir!” and immediately packed my belongings and dashed out of there as quickly as possible. Anywhere was better than that place. Each squad split up to go to different locations around Russia. I guess it was some weird strategy. Hours passed since we left camp; at least it felt like hours. We were moving towards the center of Moscow, right for St. Basil’s Cathedral. Everyone was silent until Joe broke the silence and tried to lift up everyone’s spirits by asking, “Hey, listen to this.” Then he asked Jim with a grin, “Jim, What's the most famous coffee in Afghanistan?”
“I don’t know what is it?” Jim replied with a similar grin.
“Osama Bin Latte!” After he said that only they were the ones hysterically laughing. Everyone else still had that same depressed silent mood. I have to admit I did smirk a little.
“Would you guys cut it out?” Bob exclaimed. “We’re in a very series situation and no one needs your stupid jokes around here!”
“Come on Bob, lighten up.” I said.
“Lighten up?! How am I supposed to lighten up w-”
All of the sudden Sam interrupts “Everyone shut up! Do you hear that?” We all came to a halt and intently listened. I glanced up at the grey sky and didn’t notice anything but I could hear a faint whistle.
“WE HAVE BEEN SPOTTED!” Bob blurted with urgency.
“MOVE, NOW!” Sam screams at us. Then I realized what was going on. Someone set off a flare. The sparkling red dot in the air was crystal clear. Suddenly I was engulfed in complete fear. So I instantly began to sprint down the abandoned streets of Moscow as fast as I could, not paying any attention to my surroundings. My lungs were on fire and my legs felt like bricks, but that didn’t stop me. I don’t know how long I ran. Time seemed to have stopped when I was running. All I did know was that I was lost, completely lost. First I checked my surroundings. I noticed a jet black river right in front of me, frozen solid. Behind me was Moscow and everywhere else seemed like a never ending world of snow. I was on the outskirts of Moscow, right by the Volga River.
At least I know what I’m looking at. I thought to myself. But there was something else wrong. My squad! Bitter dismay cloaked over me. Wait, do I hear gunshots? Yes, those are gunshots! I listened around for the faint sound. It was the only chance of finding my squad. t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t. There it is again! I quickly followed it. Other than the gun fire, there was the deep sallow panting I was producing and the crunch of snow beneath my feet. T-T-T-TT-T-TT-T-TT-TT-. I was getting closer with each step.
“Pauli! Get your butt over here!” someone yelled. It was Bob; he is the only one with a southern American accent. Without responding I leaped over to the cover spot behind a crumbled up wall in the middle of a worn down road. I could see Joe and Jim on to the left taking cover behind an old rusty truck. Their usual grin was wiped clean off their faces and was replaced with a look of worry. I couldn’t find Sam anywhere. A sharp sting hit my face.
“Pauli? Pauli!” Bob was yelling at me. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“What?” I replied dumbly.
“We have to get out of here, there are too many of them!” he repeated. I managed to peak over the wall to see that they had two camouflage trucks full of soldiers shooting at us and driving towards us full speed. They were no more than 100 yards away. We were taking heavy fire, but then it all stopped. All I could hear was a couple of people talking in the distance. It was in English. I took another peak over the wall and noticed a tall broad shouldered man in the distance. I nudged Bob with my gun and whispered,
“It’s Sam.” Every one of us was looking at the Russian and the Irishman negotiating with each other. The Russian had a gun to Sam’s chest while Sam had his hands in the air. I tried to make out the words and this was what I got out of it,
“I surrender, don’t shoot!” Sam exclaimed.
“Why?” The Russian asked.
Fool! I thought to myself, he’s going to get himself killed.
“What is he doing?” Jim spat with anger. Sam and the Russian were still talking, but this time Sam checked behind him and I could see him give me the slightest nod and that’s when I knew.
“Guys, we have to go, now!” I commanded.
“But, we can’t just leave Sam here alone th-” Joe argued
“Now.” I interrupted.
“Pauli’s right guys, we’re wast’n time. This is what Sam wants.” There was no more arguing. We all hopped in the old rusty truck Joe and Jim took cover behind and raced out of there as fast as possible. I looked back and saw Sam in the distance and heard one last shot of gunfire and saw Sam collapse to the ground.
It has been fifty years since that happened and it still brings bitter tears to my eyes. I learned that day that courage takes a lot of sacrifice. Sometimes we might even need to sacrifice our own lives, but in the end, it is definitely worth it. Sam O’ Hare couldn’t save his own life that day, but he did save four others. I believe this doesn’t just apply to my own story. I think it applies to every situation that would help stand up for others. That is what I learned from Sam O’Hare.