Charles Denver Barger (June 3, 1892 – November 25, 1936) was a
United States Army soldier and a recipient of the United States military's highest decoration, the
Medal of Honor, for his actions in
World War I. He earned the medal while serving as a Chauchat automatic rifle gunner during the
Meuse-Argonne Offensive, when he and another soldier,
Jesse N. Funk, entered
no man's land despite heavy fire and rescued two wounded officers and one enlisted man.
On October 31, 1918, near Bois-de-Bantheville, Barger's regiment sent several patrols into no man's land to reconnoitre
German positions in preparation for an advance as part of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. Unusually, the patrols had been sent out during daylight, rather than waiting for the cover of darkness. Two patrols from Barger's regiment became pinned down by heavy rifle and machine gun fire. Second Lieutenant John M. Millis, of Company L, was seriously wounded in the legs and ordered his men to leave without him. One man managed to crawl to the safety of the
Allied lines and brought news that Millis and another wounded officer were trapped in no man's land.
Upon hearing this, Barger and Private First Class Jesse N. Funk, voluntarily ran 500 yards (460 m) through heavy machine gun fire with a stretcher to rescue Millis, but he insisted that First Lieutenant Ernest G. Rowell, of Company I, be rescued first. When they returned to no man's land to rescue Millis, they discovered a wounded enlisted man about fifty yards from a machine gun nest, so they returned a third time to rescue him. For these actions,
General John J. Pershing presented Barger and Funk the Medal of Honor in February 1919 in
Trier, Germany.
“Then there was Charlie Barger," Funk revealed after the war. "He came from down at Stotts City, Missouri, and he’d never had much of a chance in life. He was an automatic Chauchat gunner; I was his carrier, and I used to write his letters for him and I got to know him pretty well. He was scared, too—just as badly scared as any of us, but he had the grit to put it all behind him, and what was more, he’d force it down so far that he could cheer up the other fellows. Believe me, he sure had grit and I’m proud to have been the running mate of a man that had as much fight in him as he had.” In total, Barger was awarded the
Purple Heart ten times for wounds he sustained.
Later Life:
Barger returned to farming with his adopted uncle, Henry McFerron, and later as a construction worker in
Waco, Missouri, but had a rough time making ends meet. He had difficulty adjusting to civilian life and struggled to stay employed. He was a member of the
American Legion, and fellow veterans from that group helped him find work until "the general public and those who could give employment to veterans became apathetic to the appeals for help on the ground[s that] he was a national hero".
On January 1, 1921, congress approved the recruiting of new soldiers, and he enlisted in Joplin on the tenth. He was assigned as a machine gunner to Company D, 38th Infantry Regiment, 3rd Division, at Camp Pike, Arkansas, until being permanently discharged from the Army on July 15, 1921.
While stationed in Arkansas, Barger married Audrey E. Hurst in Hardy, Arkansas, on March 2, 1921, and on June 6, 1922, they had a son named Charles Denver Barger, Jr. This marriage was short-lived, and he went on to marry Ruth Irene Bailey. They had two children, Joseph Elmer Barger, born on January 25, 1925, and Mabel Louise "Dodi" Barger, born on April 13, 1928.
In January 1922, Barger was hired as a police officer in
Kansas City. On February 22, he and Officer Howard Pollard were dispatched to 1724 Holly Street where two men were involved in bootlegging and one was suspected of murder. The suspects holed up on the second floor of the residence and decided to shoot it out with the officers. Pollard was hit in the arm and went down, and Barger was shot in the left wrist, right arm, chest and head—a total of five times. Nonetheless, he returned fire, shooting one man in the abdomen and hitting the other three times. While the latter fled, the man hit in the abdomen was taken into custody and died from his injury a short while later.
Barger recovered from his injuries, but his head wound coupled with the effects of mustard gas and post-traumatic stress eventually took its toll on his physical and mental health. He remained with the police force for twelve years before they let him go with no compensation or pension.
For the next few years Barger did whatever he could to make ends meet, but every day was a struggle. He raised rabbits to put meat on the table, planted a garden, and, against everything he believed in, accepted charity from the American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars, the only two agencies that stood by him through the years. "It's fine to have all the medals," he lamented, "but the trouble is you can't eat them."
In the Spring of 1936, Barger moved to a farm four miles southwest of
Oak Grove, outside of Kansas City, and began working for the
Civilian Conservation Corps in Blue Springs.
On the night of November 23, county police were called to his home where they found him wielding a large hunting knife and setting fire to his farmhouse. He had three self-inflicted wounds to his throat, and the deputies reported that "his clothing was torn and his body burned in a dozen places." When the officers attempted to arrest him for threatening to kill his wife, he lunged at them with the knife. Deputy Frank Ridenour fired in self-defence, inflicting a non-life-threatening wound to Barger's right thigh. He was taken to the Kansas City General Hospital and died two days later from third-degree burns to his face and arms. He was buried at Blue Springs Cemetery in
Blue Springs, not far from his Oak Grove home.
"That the breakdown was due to his war experience no comrade of Charles Barger would deny," a reporter friend wrote after his death. "Yet through the years every effort made by the veterans' organizations to persuade the government that sent him to war to admit responsibility for his mental condition ended in failure. There was no 'proof' in cold language that his suffering was connected with his service. Charles Barger remained a name and a case number."
