There is a famous photograph from the Korean War of a young Marine...
The Forgotten War@ForgottenWarPic
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Jul 25, 2026
~2 min read
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There is a famous photograph from the Korean War of a young Marine officer scrambling over a seawall, rifle in hand, leading his men off the boats and into the fight at Inchon. The man in that picture, Lieutenant Baldomero Lopez, was dead within minutes of it being taken. He is one of the very few people on earth photographed in the last moments of his own life while earning the Medal of Honor.
Lopez was a Tampa kid, the son of Spanish immigrants, sharp enough to earn his way into the Naval Academy at Annapolis. By September 1950 he was a Marine first lieutenant, and he came ashore in the assault waves at Inchon, the daring amphibious landing that turned the whole war around. That is where the photographer caught him, going up and over the seawall at the head of his platoon, straight into the teeth of the beach defenses.
The beach was a mess of enemy bunkers and pillboxes, and one of them had his men pinned down with automatic weapons fire. Lopez did what a good officer does. He went after it himself. He crept up alongside the position, pulled the pin on a grenade, and raised his arm to throw it into the gun port.
At that exact instant an enemy gun caught him, hitting him in the shoulder and the chest. The wounds knocked him backward, and the live grenade fell out of his hand and dropped to the ground right next to his own Marines.
He was badly hit, bleeding, in shock. His arm no longer worked well enough to pick the grenade back up and throw it clear. He had a couple of seconds and one terrible decision to make. He could roll away and try to save himself, and let the grenade go off among his men. Or not.
Lopez pulled the grenade in underneath his own body, wrapped himself around it with a sweep of his ruined arm, and took the entire blast into himself. It killed him. It saved the men around him.
He was twenty five years old. His parents received his Medal of Honor. And that photograph of him going over the wall has hung in Marine Corps history ever since, a young officer forever frozen at the front of his men, seconds from giving up everything so they could live.
Lopez was a Tampa kid, the son of Spanish immigrants, sharp enough to earn his way into the Naval Academy at Annapolis. By September 1950 he was a Marine first lieutenant, and he came ashore in the assault waves at Inchon, the daring amphibious landing that turned the whole war around. That is where the photographer caught him, going up and over the seawall at the head of his platoon, straight into the teeth of the beach defenses.
The beach was a mess of enemy bunkers and pillboxes, and one of them had his men pinned down with automatic weapons fire. Lopez did what a good officer does. He went after it himself. He crept up alongside the position, pulled the pin on a grenade, and raised his arm to throw it into the gun port.
At that exact instant an enemy gun caught him, hitting him in the shoulder and the chest. The wounds knocked him backward, and the live grenade fell out of his hand and dropped to the ground right next to his own Marines.
He was badly hit, bleeding, in shock. His arm no longer worked well enough to pick the grenade back up and throw it clear. He had a couple of seconds and one terrible decision to make. He could roll away and try to save himself, and let the grenade go off among his men. Or not.
Lopez pulled the grenade in underneath his own body, wrapped himself around it with a sweep of his ruined arm, and took the entire blast into himself. It killed him. It saved the men around him.
He was twenty five years old. His parents received his Medal of Honor. And that photograph of him going over the wall has hung in Marine Corps history ever since, a young officer forever frozen at the front of his men, seconds from giving up everything so they could live.