Don’t even think about messing with Van T. Barfoot. He may be a “lovely gentleman” as one neighbor said, but anyone who messes with Barfoot is in for a big surprise.
Van Barfoot was born in Edinburg, Mississippi. He grew up with a strong, solid American heritage. His grandmother, Delphia (Garr) Barfoot was Choctaw.
Even before the bombs started falling on Pearl Harbor, Barfoot enlisted in the Army to defend his country. The year 1944 found him in Italy. The American and Allied forces had landed at Anzio and were moving rapidly inland. However, the Germans had stopped the advance and for several weeks Tech. Sgt. Barfoot’s unit found itself dug in near the town of Carano.
The Germans had planned their defenses around the town well. In one position they had set up machine gun nests; three in a row. They had placed land mines in front of the nests. Any American soldiers who tried a frontal assault would be shot down or blown to pieces. The Germans had even planned a series of lanes so that they could travel back and forth safely through the minefields. Being orderly and thorough, they had planned carefully. What they hadn’t planned on was Van Barfoot and his tracking skills.
For several weeks by day, Barfoot watched the Germans to see how they walked in and out of their minefields. He found their lanes. By night, he discovered drainage ditches and depressions in the earth where it would be safe to move forward. And when the orders for the American attack came, Barfoot was ready.
While his men were heavily engaged during the assault, Barfoot moved off alone along on the enemy’s flank, crawled close to the first machine gun nest, and threw a hand grenade. Making a direct hit, he killed two and wounded three. He continued along the German defense line to the second machine gun nest where he killed two soldiers and captured three others. The third machine gun crew didn’t even put up a fight. They surrendered. Barfoot went on to mop up other positions in the surrounding area. When it was finally over Barfoot had captured 17 enemy soldiers.
Knowing the Germans would soon launch a counterattack, Barfoot got the men of his platoon ready. It wasn’t long before three Mark VI tanks appeared. Telling most of his men to withdraw to a nearby hill, Barfoot faced these tanks from a distance of 75 yards armed only with a bazooka. He fired. His first shot missed. Carefully he reloaded and fired again. This time he destroyed the lead tank’s treads. With the first tank disabled the other two had to turn away.
Barfoot was exhausted, but he saw that two of his men were badly wounded and needed assistance. For the better part of a mile he helped them back to a place of safety.
For “extraordinary heroism, demonstration of magnificent valor, and aggressive determination in the face of pointblank fire” 2d Lt. Barfoot (he had been promoted) was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. And who nominated him for the award? His men.
Van Barfoot went on to make a career of the Army. He fought in three wars, he was wounded three times, and when he retired, he held the rank of full colonel.
Fast forward to the present. Van Barfoot decided to give up his farm and move to the Sussex Square Community in Henrico County, Virginia to be closer to his daughter. His needs were simple, but he made it clear that he wanted to erect a flagpole in front of his new home.
For 36 years on his farm he had raised the American flag on a pole in the morning and then lowered and folded it at dusk. It was his way of saluting his country and honoring all who have served it. It was important. It was a part of who he was.
Board members of the community’s homeowner association had different ideas, however. They had no problem if a homeowner wanted to have a flag in a small stand on their porch, but a flagpole out on the front lawn? In their opinion a pole was not “aesthetically appropriate.” Barfoot needed their permission to put one up, and they refused to give it.
You would think that board members would make an exception for a war hero: an ex-army officer who had served his country in three wars. But, no, rules are rules, the association’s decisions must be obeyed, and so the conflict began.
A law firm representing the homeowners association sent a letter to Colonel Barfoot saying that he had to remove his flagpole or face legal action. Barfoot wouldn’t give in. He said he’d take the case to court.
Then the media got hold of the story. Soon Colonel Barfoot had a governor, a U.S. senator, the president of the United States, and 2.5 million members of The American Legion on his side. The board members quickly backed down.
They had just learned the same lesson that a few dozen German soldiers had learned many years before: nobody messes with Van Barfoot.