He stared into the gray cold waters of the Chesapeake Bay. Today is February 29, on a leap year. Today is also his birthday, he just turned 16. The chilly spindrift of the Atlantic ocean washes over his face. Virginia winters are mild, and snow is scant even during the winter time. Fridays are busier than most days on the docks. His master has him working here helping to board cotton and dried tobacco on steamships to Baltimore. He has lived here his whole life, in the city of Norfolk, embraced by the Chesapeake Bay.

His skin is the color of ebony. He was born into a family of slaves. In the springtime, he will be back in the fields, painstakingly planting and growing tobacco plants in his master's plantation. Summer is when they harvest the crop, then they dry it under the sun. Acres upon acres of tobacco fields is where he toils, day after day after day. He looks forward to Sunday, the only day of the week where they are not forced to work. His greatest fear, is to live out his life in insignificance.

He looks forward to Sundays because it is a day of rest and a day of prayer. Oh, how he loves his Bible and his church. He loves to listen to his mother's soulful rendition of Amazing Grace during Sunday service at St John's Church, the only church for colored people like him in the city. He loves his church, and the Gospel comforts him. He closes his eyes to feel the cool breeze on his face once more. His daydreaming is broken by the shouts of James Rigby, a heavy built balding white man his master hired as one of his enforcers. His master has hired more of these enforcers; slaves have been disappearing here in the ports of Norfolk, and missing slaves is a big dent on the business. There has been whispers of an underground railroad that these slaves apparently use, but the master couldn't confirm its veracity. James Rigby holds a musket with one hand, and his other hand points directly at his direction: What are you standing around there, boy? Best be moving now!

Under his breath, he recites his favorite Psalm: The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace. He takes a deep breath once, and walks back into the ship.

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It has been almost two years since that fateful night when his father disappeared like smoke. It was like he just vanished into thin air. They lived is a small house, and had scant belongings. But they had love for one another and have faith in God. Things will get better, his parents always said, we just need to have faith. The night before his father vanished, he overheard his mother and father talking in hushed tones. He caught a few words here and there. Words like: secret passage, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Massachusetts. With daybreak, as they got ready for another day of work at the ports, his father gave him a tight hug and told him to look after his mother and sister, and that his father "will see them again". He did not understand what he meant. That was the last time he spoke to his father. That night, his father did not return home.

The next day, he worked the stables while his mother and sister worked at the plantation. His mother came home that night with bruises and a left eye that was swollen shut. The master beat her to find out where her husband was. She said she did not know. This infuriated the master and more blows landed on her. The master told then told her that she owed him money for her husband escape. She just nodded her head and wept.

Leading to his 16th birthday, the master became more stringent with the slaves to reduce the risk of them escaping. The northern states and Canada has been too strong of a pull for slaves to risk their lives and escape their masters. Virginia is too close to these states who have outlawed slavery. The master didn't want to risk it. So he hired more people like James Rigby to quash their dreams of running away.

A few weeks after his 17th birthday, his mother gathered him and his sister before they retired for the night. In hushed tones, she told them that she has heard from their father at last. She told them to never speak of what she was about to tell them, ever. The message was not sent in a traditional way like through a letter. Instead, it was passed on along the vines of the extensive and secretive Underground Railroad. The Underground Railroad is a metaphorical network of secret routes and safe passages for enslaved people who want to escape to the free states and Canada. The message told of his father having reached the safety of New Bedford, Massachusetts. His father is doing well and is saving everything he can scrimp on to buy his family out of slavery.

He knew that the literal price of freedom is too high for the three of them. And so he plotted his escape. Everything has to run perfectly. One mistake could mean death or an actual sale to any of the lower Southern states that would make it an impossibility to be free from bondage. He planned meticulously. It took months and months of timing, and preparation. He worked so hard at the docks that James Rigby eventually let his guard down on him. He kept his head low enough that he became invisible, indistinct from the other slaves and indentured servants. He spoke to no one of his plan. All the while, he kept his eyes peeled and his ears open for any clues that could lead him to the Underground Railroad. He was getting ready.

A few months before his 19th birthday, he, too, vanished from the face of the earth.

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In the dark of night, he landed as a stowaway in a Baltimore bound steamship who brought cotton and wool from the port of Norfolk to one of the biggest ports in the world, the city of Baltimore. The captain of the ship is a sympathizer for the abolitionists and feigned knowledge of his presence in the ship. The next few weeks went by like a blur. There were many different people, all faceless and nameless, fair or dark skinned, that guided him from town to town, city to city, as they moved him from Baltimore to Philadelphia and to his final destination in New Bedford, MA. With his own eyes, he saw how people with the same skin complexion as he, working and living side by side with those whose skin color look like his master's. He felt a pang of sadness. After all, his mother and sister are still down there at Norfolk. And yet, a sliver of hope continued to find a home in his heart, and a few days before his 19th birthday, he was reunited with his father.

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His love for the Gospel and for church never wavered so he pursued his education in ecclesiastical studies in the hopes of eventually becoming a pastor. By this time, he and his father were able to save enough to buy out his mother and his sister from slavery. The Civil War has begun, and pressure has been mounting on men to pick which side of history they want to be a part of. The war has started its bloodletting as the Union and the Confederate armies clashed. Then, on New Years Day, the 3rd yr into the bloody war, President Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation, declaring that all slaves, henceforth, are free men.

He knew in his heart that God's call to service is not confined to the lectern of a church. He himself is a witness to the joy brought on by liberation from slavery, that he as a black man, can get to enjoy the freedoms guaranteed in the Constitution. As the Emancipation Proclamation allowed for the enlisting of African-American men into the service of the Union army, he joined the 54th Massachusetts Infantry Regimen, an all-black infantry unit that received strong recognition for their bravery and courage throughout the war. He is now 23 yrs of age at this time, and due to his education level, he was promoted to sergeant. The commander of this infantry unit is Colonel Robert Gould Shaw, young and only 3 yrs his senior. Colonel Shaw was the son of a wealthy and influential abolitionist up in Boston.

The 54th Massachusetts Infantry Regimen was commanded to move south and help break down the formidable defenses of Charleston Harbor in South Carolina. The Union Navy was sent ahead to take Fort Wagner down. Fort Wagner is located at Morris Island, almost a thousand miles away from New Bedford, MA. The fort is daunting to say the least with its 9 meter earth and sand filled wall. So intimidating was this fort, that the Union Navy was not able to penetrate its defenses. In an act of courage, Colonel Shaw volunteered to lead the assault on the heavily fortified fort. He listened as Colonel Shaw rallied the unit and prepare for battle.

He could not get himself to sleep that night. He knew that at daylight, blood will be spilled. From the beach, he can see the heavily fortified defenses facing them. It sent shivers down his spine. He has one foot in the grave now, and the looming possibility of death is now palpable. While he is lying in his cot, he can feel his knees trembling. Fear has crept in, now if only sleep could be as forgiving.

He awoke to the loud call to arms of Colonel Shaw. Today is the 18th of July, 1863. The attack on Fort Wagner was imminent. He fell in line of his company's formation. Colonel Shaw's commanding presence washes over them. Colonel Shaw sits high on his battle horse. The company's color guard stands tall in the middle of the battalion, holding the flag of the United States of America, 35 stars, red, white, and blue. In many sense, the color guard carries the reputation of the whole Union Army. Seizing an enemy's flag is great honor, and on the flip side, losing a flag is a tragic dishonor. Hence, the color guard is a primary target of the enemy. Only the bravest of the brave take on the responsibility of being the color guard. It is almost a self-imposed death sentence. He wipes the sweat off of his brow. He closes his eyes and mutter a short prayer. The subdued tension enveloping the morning air is broken by guttural scream of Colonel Shaw: Charge!

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He could hear himself shouting alongside the members of his infantry division as they muster up the courage and strength to charge up the fort. He hears several loud booms as cannons are fired by the enemy from the fort's parapet. The sound of muskets firing peppered thru the air in between the firing of the loud cannons. He can feel his heart pounding with adrenaline, and his breath has been fast and shallow. He runs along the other soldiers charging forward. He slows down briefly to touch his face. He felt a splattering of liquid on his right cheek as he saw an infantry member to the right of him fall down with a bullet to the head. He looks at his hand, it is red, but darker, much darker than the color of the flag waving to rally them forward. He marches on towards the fort. Boom! A cannon ball explodes to the front and left of him, instantly killing a few of his fellow soldiers. He can see Colonel Shaw on his horse waving his hand and screaming at the top of his lungs for his men to rush forward. He felt the zing of bullet graze his left cheek, as he dives into a shallow ditch to take aim. Bang! His aim was true, as the lifeless body of a Confederate soldier falls over the parapet. As he reloads his rifle, he looks back at the rest of his company. The ground was already littered with bodies of the fallen. Another soldier slumps beside him in his shallow dug out, bleeding out of his right ear but still alive. At a distance, he can see Colonel Shaw getting closer to the walls of the parapet, the color guard to the right and back of him along with other soldiers. Colonel Shaw was desperately calling on his men to rally forward. Then as he gets up and out of the ditch to continue the charge, he saw Colonel Shaw hold his own neck as blood poured through his fingers. Colonel Shaw slumps forward and his now lifeless body falls of the horse. He rushes towards the fallen commander and as he gets closer, from the corner of his eye, he sees the color guard go down on his knees as the color guard takes several bullets to the body. He changes course and runs towards the color guard. He grabs the pole holding the flag tightly between his hands ensuring that the flag never touches the ground. Between his hands, he is holding the color of the United States of America. He waves the flag to rally the remaining troops. In his loudest voice, he calls on his fellow soldiers to continue charging. For the Union, charge! For freedom, charge!

The flag waves gently as he struggles to climb up the steep earth of the fort. Lord, let me get up there. One foot in front of the other. Yes, that's it. Keep going. Just a little more, a little more. Thud. He felt the air leave his lungs as the impact of a bullet hits him in right breast. He can feel himself bleed. He gasps for air. This is nothing. Keep going. Just a little more, a little more. He trudges on, with his right arm getting weak from the gunshot wound, the weight of the flag gets a little heavier. But he keeps going. Zing! Another bullet grazes his temple. Breathe, come on, breathe. Keep going. Thud. Searing heat on his right arm just right above the elbow. Another bullet. His right arm goes limp and he is forced to hold the flag pole between his left arm and his chest. The pain is unbearable, O Lord, help me. Keep going. Keep going, he tells himself. He can see the other Union soldiers climb up to the fort. I can do this. Just a little more, a little more. And so he marches on, securing the flag with his left arm wrapped around the pole and close to his chest. He keeps going up, up to the fort, up to the fort. Boom! Another cannonball lands in front of him, instantly killing and maiming a half dozen men. The impact sent shrapnel flying everywhere. One of them shatters the bones of his lower left leg just above the ankles. He can barely breathe. The pain and exhaustion is taking a toll on his body. Just keep going, a little more, a little more. And so he drags his left leg behind him, limping in pain and exhaustion. He holds the flag high, clutching it like a dragon would his treasures. Under heavy gunfire, he plants the flag at the top of the parapet. At the sight of the flag of the United States of America flying above the parapet, a raucous roar of enthusiasm and morale echoed from what remains of the 54th Massachusetts Infantry Regimen. Under cover of fire, all they can do is hunker down and wait for reinforcements to arrive. They are surrounded by the enemy still and full victory is clearly untenable.

He fought to stay awake and alert. Gunfire can be heard all around them. His breathing is shallow, and he is getting weaker. His leg is swollen, and his arm is limp. From the distance, he can see the reinforcement marching towards them. The decimated army of the 54th Massachusetts Infantry Regimen slowly planned their retreat back to the lines of the Union army. Still holding the flag high, he limped down to join the ranks. He is weak, he has lost all strength, and he exhausted. Death seems imminent. No, keep fighting. You can do this. The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace. As the Confederate enemy inch forward to regain the territory they momentarily lost, he was being helped by his Union army comrades. He passes the star spangled flag of blue, white, and red to another soldier who volunteered to be the color guard. With his last ounce of strength, he tells them: Boys, I only did my duty; the old flag never touched the ground. And then darkness fell upon him.

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The Battle of Fort Wagner ended in September 7, 1863 when the Confederates abandoned the fort after two months of shelling. This is a massive Confederate victory over the Union forces with less than 200 soldiers dead or captured for the Confederate army, and over 1500 soldiers dead or captured for the Union forces.

Due to his injuries, he was honorably discharged from the Union army in 1964. He lived to be a regular civilian after that, returning to a life of peace in New Bedford with his family. Upon his death in 1908, the flag at the Massachusetts state house was flown half mast, an honor usually reserved for distinct leaders of the state: deceased senators, governors, members of Congress, and US presidents --- something a former slave could have never dreamed will ever happen to them . His greatest fear was never realized. In the end, his life story is that of courage, faith, and triumph.

His name is William H. Carney. And he is the first ever African-American to receive the highest military honor there is for his exceptional bravery: The Congressional Medal of Honor. It was awarded eight years before his death. This is his incredible story.