Troops honored for their mettle

The men served in Iraq, Afghanistan

On Friday, an Air Force pilot stationed at Pope Air Force Base received a Distinguished Flying Cross for his role in the dramatic rescue of an American service member in Afghanistan. Monday, a sergeant from Camp Lejeune will be awarded the Bronze Star for leading his troops during a ferocious attack on their tiny outpost in Iraq's Anbar Province. Here are their stories.

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It was late morning when a couple of mortar rounds fell near the little base. Then it was quiet again.

Mortar attacks were common, mostly just to harass the Marines. They were in Anbar province, just east of the city of Fallujah, after all. This time, though, something just seemed wrong, thought 1st Sgt. Paul T. Archie, a heavily muscled weight lifter with the raspy voice of a drill sergeant, which he had once been.

And then there was something else, just an extra sense you get after multiple combat tours in Iraq.

Weapons Company of the 2nd Battalion, 8th Marines had shipped out of Camp Lejeune at the beginning of August 2006 with 191 men. As the top enlisted man, Archie wanted to bring all of them back alive. The odds were against that. In Anbar, it had become routine for infantry companies to lose several Marines during a standard sixth-month tour.

The company's perfect record didn't last long. On Aug. 23, a sniper crept close to a group of Marines guarding a gas station and fired. Lance Cpl. James Hirlston, 21, fell, blood welling from his neck. Hirlston, a former high school wrestler from Murfreesboro, Tenn., left behind a crowd of survivors, including eight siblings.

Every day after that, including the day the mortar rounds fell, Archie reminded his men about Hirlston, about how they were fighting not just for their country but also their fallen buddy.

After the mortar rounds hit, Archie and the other leaders sent reinforcements up into the six rooftop guard posts and others in armored Humvees to protect the roads leading to the base. Two hours later a dump truck roared toward the base. The Marines in the Humvees opened up with a machine gun, and the truck veered off the road and exploded. Then enemy fighters all around the base fired AK-47s and rocket launchers, and mortar shells began falling again.

Archie and company commander 1st Lt. Scott Burlison scrambled from position to position, one at a time, so that if one was shot someone would know. Getting shot was more than a possibility: That day they were exposed to thousands of incoming rounds.

Archie said his job was mainly encouraging the men to "fight like dogs." He also was checking their ammunition supply as he moved around and made sure they identified their targets so no civilians were shot, a key part of U.S. counterinsurgency doctrine.

Two Marines were wounded; each time Archie rushed to check on them, Hirlston was in the back of his mind. Both lived.

When the shooting stopped, the Marines piped up with their all-purpose word, hoorah. "We did it, first sergeant, we did it," said several. Archie let them celebrate, then reminded them they needed to focus again because that next patrol, that next ambush, they needed to be ready.

The fight had lasted maybe an hour. The next day, they counted up their remaining ammunition. They had fired more than 10,000 rounds.

A medal wasn't what the job was about, Archie said. It was about getting his Marines home. All but one of them made it.

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The pilots and crews of the attack jets and helicopters had carefully planned the rescue attempt. But once they reached the rugged part of Afghanistan where the missing American was supposed to be hiding in a small village, things started going wrong, as they often do in war.