I don’t usually spend a lot of time on this blog re-telling stories, but I ran across one this week that was just … well … unique, and thought I’d share it with you. Don’t ask me how I tripped across this—I’d probably just blame my wife anyway—but I did, and it really struck a chord within me.
What exactly makes a “hero”? We use the word all the time, and it shows up in the most unlikely of places, these days, for folks who, quite frankly, don’t act all that heroic! But what does that word mean to you?
To me—I mean, if I’m going to label someone a “hero”—there are certain qualifications and character traits I’m implying. For me, a hero must be selfless above all, followed in rapid succession by steadfast, dependable, unflinching in the face of danger, and, frankly, modest about the whole thing. As if the incredible, death-defying deeds were all in a day’s work. No endzone dances, no “look at how awesome I am” tweets, no attempt to capitalize on what they’ve done to turn a profit. Just simple, old-school, quiet … heroism.
Few people can live up to those standards. Maybe that’s why I use the word so rarely. Doubly so in recent times where so many seem intent on advertising their hero-ness to the world. Where is the quiet, unsung hero that accomplishes incredible feats at great personal risk, then rides off into the sunset without asking for so much as a “thank-you”?
As I mentioned, I ran across just such a hero this week, and she wasn’t at all what I expected. More to the point, perhaps, given just how much military history I read, I was shocked I hadn’t heard this story before, though clearly others had. No fewer than six books have been written exclusively about her exploits, and she’s been mentioned in several others (I’ll include links to these works down below). How on earth could I have missed the story of this remarkable Marine?
To set the stage, the year was 1953, and the Korean War was in full-swing, with vicious battles being fought along a line near the old 38th Parallel that had divided U.S. and Soviet occupation zones following World War II. The 5th Marines, part of the 1st U.S. Marine Division, were heavily engaged, the men struggling to get their heavy support equipment, and just-as-heavy ammunition, up and down the steep Korean hills. A young Lieutenant, Support Platoon Leader Eric Pederson, hit upon an idea to facilitate that heavy transportation and resupply task.
Pederson purchased a horse named “Morning Flame” from a local Korean stableboy, an animal the kid had been training to race before the war. The sale would allow the boy’s family to afford a prosthetic leg for his sister, who’d been crippled in the war. Pederson paid $250 of his own money and led the animal off to a very new—and much more dangerous—career.
Being well-acquainted with horses, Pederson and several of his men taught the animal the skills needed to survive on a modern battlefield. She was trained to find cover from incoming artillery, lie down when under fire, avoid barbed wire, and crouch in foxholes. The Marines jokingly renamed the mare “Sergeant Reckless” for the heavy recoilless rifle and ammunition she would carry. Little did any of them know at that time they were in the presence of greatness, that rare, special blend that shows up best when circumstances are at their worst.
Sgt Reckless began her service in the U.S. Marine Corps being led from the supply depot to the Support Platoon’s forward area. Before long, however, the horse proved herself able to make the trip on her own, without a handler, much to the great shock of her platoon mates. More incredibly, and far beyond the simple intent behind her purchase, Reckless was willing and able to carry wounded men back from the front lines as well, getting them to the life-saving medical care they required. By the war’s end, countless Marines owed their very lives to the former Korean racehorse-in-training.
But if that’s all she’d done, I wouldn’t really be talking about her today. Reckless proved herself worthy of the name, becoming accustomed to the sights and sounds of combat, and willing to conduct her life-giving mission under the most intense enemy fire. In fact, she was wounded twice during the Korean War, once above the eye, and once in the flank, yet continued to carry out her critical duty.
During the 5-day battle of Outpost Vegas, Reckless made no fewer than 50 trips a day to resupply her Marines with 386 recoilless rifle rounds—a total weight of over 4,000 pounds—traversing some 35 miles by the battle’s end. Astonishingly, to the Commanding General of the 1st Marines, Major General Edwin Pollock, Reckless made the vast majority of these trips without human aid, repeatedly striding boldly into the teeth of withering Chinese fire, carrying ammunition forward and wounded men back. Pollock would make her rank official with a battlefield promotion to Marine Sergeant. She remains the only horse so honored by the Corps.
Reckless, promoted to Staff Sergeant by the end of the war, would earn no fewer than eight military decorations for her exploits during the conflict, including two Purple Hearts. In 2019 she was posthumously recognized with the Animals in War & Peace Medal for Bravery, one of the first military animals to be so recognized.
Shipped back to the United States in 1954, Reckless received a hero’s welcome by a crowd of hundreds awaiting her arrival in San Francisco. Having done her part in war, Staff Sergeant Reckless retired to Camp Pendleton, California, where she gave birth to one filly and three colts. Her passing in 1968 was front-page news in the U.S. and she was buried with full military honors. On October 26th, 2016, the equine veteran was honored with a statue commemorating her deeds of valor on Camp Pendleton, amid a crowd of some 500 who came to celebrate one of their own.
Marine Corps Mounted Color Guard at the SSgt Reckless Monument Dedication ceremony, Oct. 26, 2016. Photo courtesy of Deb Hellman
I can’t tell you why these animal war stories seem to get to me, but they always do. Maybe its because when humans act heroically, we do so knowing the full ramifications of our actions, truly understand what we’re giving up if those actions lead to our death. But what of our military animals, those tireless, four-legged troopers that guard our bases, sniff out IEDs, track insurgents, and yes, carry our heaviest burdens? How does one measure their contribution—just as selfless, just as heroic—against those of us who take such action of our own free will?
Or is all that just a façade, things we silly humans think and say to make ourselves feel special? Couldn’t Staff Sergeant Reckless have simply run off? Smelled the cordite, felt the earth shake under an artillery barrage, seen the blood pooling in the rocky terrain and just said no! Certainly, countless humans have done just that over the course of military history. She wasn’t supervised and, frankly, the Marines couldn’t spare the manpower to chase her—a racehorse fleeing mortal danger—had she decided to bolt. And yet that’s not at all what happened. Reckless served her unit, protected her Marines, until the job was done. I don’t care who—or what—you are, that’s nothing short of … heroic.
So … sorry, no pithy ending or snappy wrap-up today. Heroism … true heroism … speaks for itself.
M. G. Haynes
Books on Staff Sergeant Reckless:
SGT Reckless: America’s War Horse
Sergeant Reckless: The True Story of the Little Horse Who Became a Hero
Sgt. Reckless the War Horse: Korean War Hero (Animal Heroes)
Reckless: The Racehorse Who Became a Marine Corps Hero
They Called Her Reckless -- A True Story of War, Love And One Extraordinary Horse