I'm not about to take credit for something I didn't do. I did not shoot - not a round, nothing. I went down praying to my knees - that's the last thing I remember.

I grew up in Palestine, West Virginia, which is mostly a farming community; there aren't a lot of jobs.

I am still confused as to why they chose to lie and tried to make me a legend when the real heroics of my fellow soldiers that day were, in fact, legendary. People like Lori Piestewa and First Sergeant Dowdy who picked up fellow soldiers in harm's way. Or people like Patrick Miller and Sergeant Donald Walters who actually fought until the very end. The bottom line is the American people are capable of determining their own ideals of heroes and they don't need to be told elaborate tales.

I could be, you know, the person that shows little kids that giving up isn't something that you should do.

Since coming back from Iraq, there's been so many triumphs and obstacles standing in my way, so whenever I set my mind to something, I definitely just go full blast at it.

The whole idea that the rescue was staged or the soldiers were shooting blanks, that's just obvious stuff. Why would you do that in the middle of a war? It's just crazy.

I remember the first time I put on the Army uniform. I just felt like a totally different person - I felt proud.