Clifford C. Sims and the Medal of Honor at Outpost Harry

Dec 30 , 2025

Clifford C. Sims and the Medal of Honor at Outpost Harry

Clifford C. Sims didn’t just fight the enemy. He led them into hell while bleeding on the frozen soil of Outpost Harry. Wounded, staggering, yet refusing to fall, he sparked a fire that saved his brothers. When men freeze in fear, he charged forward with a grenade in one hand and resolve in the other.

The Making of a Warrior

Born in Pender County, North Carolina, Sims was a man grounded deep in faith and duty. He grew up in hard country, where the Bible and work ethic ran alongside the tobacco fields. His values were carved from scripture and scars—the kind of faith that moves mountains, or at least trenches.

Before the war, he enlisted into the 7th Infantry Regiment, 3rd Infantry Division—a unit steeped in history, forged in the fires of World War II. Sims carried his faith as a shield and a compass. In quiet moments, he found strength in Psalm 27:1:

“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?”

Fear was a foreign language to Clifford; courage was his native tongue.

The Battle That Defined Him

July 10, 1953. The Korean War roared into its final chapter. Outpost Harry sat on a knife-edge, a small hill vital to UN defenses near the Jamestown Line. Chinese forces surged like tides—relentless, brutal. The night was colder than death, scarred by bursts of machine gun fire and artillery shells tearing earth.

Sims's squad was caught under hellfire. Communication lines severed, defenses on the brink of shattering. Wounded—gunshot and fragmentation—he didn’t retreat. The enemy was pressing hard, his men faltering.

Sims grabbed a grenade, charged the enemy’s strongpoint alone—but not for glory. His voice broke through the chaos, rallying his men with raw, guttural power.

The hill trembled under the sound of that charge. Against unimaginable odds, his aggression turned the tide—his squad held the line. Sims suffered massive wounds, but his actions inspired his men to fight like devils possessed. That day, he didn’t just survive; he ensured his unit lived.

Honors Wrought in Fire

For this extraordinary valor, Clifford C. Sims was awarded the Medal of Honor. The citation reads like a prayer in blood and courage:

“... despite severe wounds and against overwhelming enemy forces, he led a fierce counterattack. His leadership and bravery prevented the enemy from overrunning the position.”

Soldiers who fought beside him remembered a man who bled for every inch. Lieutenant Colonel William R. Wilson called Sims:

“A rare breed—a leader whose courage wraps around his men like armor.”

His Medal of Honor was not just for his resistance, but his unbreakable will.

The Enduring Legacy

Clifford C. Sims’s story is more than a tale of war. It’s a testament to the cost of courage—the scars carried inward long after the guns fall silent. The battlefield doesn’t care if you’re wounded; you fight through. That’s the truth Sims taught his brothers in arms.

His faith was a lodestar through pain and sacrifice. He lived the words of Isaiah 40:31:

“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles...”

Sims’s legacy is etched in stone and spirit. Sacrifice is never neat. Valor is messy and bloody. But it leaves behind a path for others to follow—one of relentless grit and humble devotion.

Today, when the fog of war clouds the mind and the cost seems too great, remember Clifford C. Sims. The man who stood tall when all else faltered. Who showed us the true weight of sacrifice— and the light beyond the darkness.