06/01/2026
*** Medal of Honor Monday! đșđžđșđž ***
On this day in 1948, a young boy is born in the small town of Interlachen, Florida. Robert H. Jenkins would go on to become a Marine and a recipient of the Medal of Honor.
His self-sacrifice did not surprise his family. Not even one little bit.
âThat sweet, sweet child,â as his mother called him, was a devout Christian whoâd carried his Bible to Vietnam. âHe would do anything for anybody,â she concluded.
âWhen we were in school,â his sister Ruby told The Tampa Tribune, âthere were white schools and black schools. But Robert didnât care if you were green. To him a person was a person. No one who knew him was surprised by what he did. He liked everyone.â
On March 4, 1969, Pfc. Jenkins was a machine gunner assigned to Company C, 3rd Reconnaissance Battalion. He was with a 12-man reconnaissance team just south of the DMZ. As night fell, the Marine team could hear the enemy in the area. They dug in, listening throughout the night. âWe didnât sleep. You donât sleep,â Jenkinsâs assistant, Fred Ostrom, concluded. âYou rest. You have to be ready.â
The enemy attack came just before dawn the next morning. A large group of North Vietnamese soldiers descended on the outnumbered Marines, showering them with automatic weapons and mortar fire.
â[T]he NVA worked their way close enough to start throwing gr***des,â Ostrom remembered. âI went over to my hole with Robert. The first couple of gr***des got our lieutenant and he was killed. Then a gr***de came in and I caught shrapnel in my left arm and it broke in four places. I also got shot through the knee. Then another gr***de came in.â
Ostromâs shattered arm and leg prevented his escape, and Jenkins did what he had to do. He grabbed Ostrom and threw him on the ground, simultaneously leaping atop his friend and taking the brunt of the gr***deâs blast.
Ostrom doesnât remember much of what followed, but he was later told that helicopter gunships arrived, fighting off the enemy while the Marines escaped.
Three men had been killed, including Jenkins. Another six were injured.
Ostrom was in the hospital for more than a year before resuming regular life, getting married and having kids. He kept Jenkinsâs picture on his desk, but he was afraid to reach out to the Jenkins family.
âI must have made plans four or five times to go down and visit them,â he later said. âBut I just chickened out. I was afraid theyâd be upset that I came back and Robert didnât.â But when he learned that a Florida middle school had been named for his friend, he contacted the school and began corresponding with the kids. Finally, he worked up his nerve, contacted Jenkinsâs mom, and flew down to meet everyone.
âThey treated me like family,â he smiled. âThey asked me all about Robert and made me feel right at home.â He also visited Jenkinsâs graveâa trip that left him horrified. It was âlike a barren desert,â he told a reporter. âAnt hills, termite hills, dead trees, no grass, soot-covered grave marker, rundown fence.â
Ostrom became determined to fix it. He called the local VFW, media, and others but was told nothing could be done because the cemetery was private. Yet he would not be stopped. He kept making calls and raising a ruckusâand he achieved his objective within about a year.
The community pitched in to clean up and replace the headstone. A cover was added so that weeds would never grow over the grave again. Naturally, it has the words of John 15:13 inscribed on it:
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
On Veterans Day 1996, a rededication ceremony was held. âItâs the least we can do,â Ostrom concluded.
RIP, Sir.
---------------------------
If you enjoy these history posts, please see my note below. :)
Gentle reminder: History posts are copyright © 2013-2026 by Tara Ross. I appreciate it when you use the shar e feature instead of cutting/pasting.
