Jacklyn Lucas, Youngest Marine Awarded the Medal of Honor

Jan 12 , 2026

Jacklyn Lucas, Youngest Marine Awarded the Medal of Honor

Jacklyn Harold Lucas Jr. was nineteen years old. Barely a man. Yet there he was—pulling two grenades against his chest in the chaos of Iwo Jima. Two grenades scraped deep into his flesh as he shoved his body down to shield his brothers in arms. Blood and bone met steel and fire. Moments later, he was alive, scarred, and forever bound to a story of sacrifice written in flesh and courage.

From North Carolina to the Corps

Born in 1928, Jacklyn grew up in crisp Carolina air, raised by a family of quiet discipline. Discipline forged in a world healing from the Great War, but sharpened by the fires of the Great Depression. He enlisted in the Marine Corps at 14, lying about his age to join the fight. That hunger for service, driven by something deeper than pride or glory, whispered of a calling he followed through bloodied trials and whispered prayers.

Faith ran beneath Lucas’s grit like the marrow in his bones—a sturdy anchor. The sanctity of brotherhood and sacrifice shaped his code early. In the Bible, he later recalled, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). His faith wasn’t talk; it was steel forged in baptism by fire.

The Battle That Tested a Boy’s Soul

Iwo Jima. February 20, 1945. The hellish volcanic ash ground bore witness to one of the bloodiest fights in the Pacific Theater. Lucas, assigned to the 5th Marine Division, found himself in the heart of the storm during the initial landings.

Amid an enemy counterattack, an enemy grenade bounced into their foxhole. Without hesitation, Lucas lunged forward and slammed his body down over it — muffling the blast with flesh and bone. Then, just seconds later, a second grenade landed close. Without a moment’s thought or flinching, young Lucas pressed down over it as well.

Both grenades exploded. Both hands tore—fingers airborne, flesh shredded. His chest burnt, lungs sullied by shrapnel. But every man in that hole survived.

In official Medal of Honor documents, he wrote (and later recounted): “I was just doing what I had to do.” The kind of words born when a boy becomes a man in the crucible of combat. Not glory; survival. Not heroism; brotherhood.

Medal of Honor: The Price of Valor

Jacklyn Lucas remains the youngest Marine ever awarded the Medal of Honor, handed to him by President Truman at only 17 after the brutal fight at Iwo Jima. His citation detailed “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty.” His two mangled hands and horrific wounds carried the undeniable cost of his courage.

Fellow Marines praised him as “a living example of what young men in war can endure.” His story, circulated by the Corps, became a beacon of sacrifice for generations yet to serve.

“This young man has taught us what courage is,” a senior commanding officer said. “He didn’t think of himself. He thought of the brothers beside him.”

A Legacy Carved in Flesh and Faith

Lucas’s story goes beyond medals. It is a testament—a raw reminder—that valor often comes in the body of the unexpected. Young. Unprepared for the world’s cruelty. But willing to stand. To bleed. To live another day so others might.

“He reminds us all—courage is not the absence of fear, but the choice to stand anyway.”

His scars never fully healed, but his spirit never broke. After the war, he deliberately chose a quiet life, refusing to let fame define him. His legacy is a steady flame for veterans and civilians alike—a call to honor sacrifice and to remember that redemption is found not just in survival, but in how we bear our scars.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.” — Romans 8:18

Jacklyn Harold Lucas Jr.’s fight was not just against enemies in the sand and ash. It was a battle for the soul of courage itself. A reminder etched in history: that heroism is a burden carried quietly, often by the youngest and most unassuming. And redemption is the steady hand that shapes sacrifice into legacy.