09/11/2025
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They took her medal. She wore it anyway. For 58 years, she was proven right.
1917 The U.S. government sent Dr. Mary Edwards Walker a letter: return your Medal of Honor.
She was 84 years old. She'd worn that medal every single day since receiving it in 1865.
Her response was simple: No.
She pinned it to her suit jacket and wore it until the day she died.
She was buried with it on her chest.
And 58 years later, the government admitted she'd been right all along.
This is her story.
November 26, 1832. Mary Edwards Walker was born on a farm in New York to parents who believed something radical: daughters deserved the same education as sons.
Her father taught her carpentry, mechanics, and medicine. Her mother taught her that corsets were designed to keep women weak.
At 15, Mary threw out her corsets. She started wearing shorter skirts over trousers—practical clothing that let her move, work, and breathe.
People mocked her. She didn't care.
At 21, she enrolled in Syracuse Medical College. One of the only women in America pursuing medicine. Male classmates harassed her. Professors questioned whether women could even comprehend medical science.
She graduated in 1855 with her medical degree—one of the first female doctors in the United States.
Then she discovered having a degree meant nothing when no one would hire you.
She opened a private practice. Patients refused to see a "lady doctor." The practice failed. Her marriage failed. She divorced in 1869—scandalous for a woman—and kept her maiden name. Even more scandalous.
Then the Civil War started, and Mary saw her chance.
1861 She traveled to Washington D.C. and volunteered as a surgeon for the Union Army.
They said no. Women could nurse. Not operate. Not lead. Not be equals.
She went to the battlefields anyway.
Unpaid. Unofficial. Uninvited.
After the First Battle of Bull Run, she treated hundreds of wounded soldiers in a makeshift hospital. Army officials couldn't deny she was skilled, but they hired her as a nurse. She accepted—then diagnosed, prescribed, and operated anyway.
She wore a modified officer's uniform with trousers. Male officers complained.
"I don't wear men's clothes," she said. "I wear my own clothes."
For two years, she worked in field hospitals under fire. She walked through battlefields pulling wounded men to safety. She contracted typhoid and nearly died. She recovered and went back to work.
September 1863: She was finally appointed as a contract Army surgeon. First female U.S. Army surgeon. Official. Recognized.
But Mary wanted to do more.
She started crossing into Confederate territory to treat civilian wounded—women, children, families left behind in war zones.
April 10, 1864. Near Chattanooga, Tennessee. Confederate soldiers captured her.
They accused her of being a spy. She was wearing a Union uniform behind enemy lines, treating the sick.
They imprisoned her at Castle Thunder in Richmond, Virginia—a brutal Confederate prison. Overcrowded. Disease-ridden. Starving.
She endured four months of hunger, isolation, and uncertainty.
August 1864: She was released in a prisoner exchange—traded for a Confederate officer.
She'd lost significant weight. Her health was permanently damaged.
She returned to duty immediately.
November 11, 1865: President Andrew Johnson awarded her the Medal of Honor for her service—her bravery, her dedication, her refusal to quit even when captured.
First woman ever to receive it.
She wore it every day for the rest of her life.
After the war, she became a writer, lecturer, activist. She fought for:
Women's right to vote
Practical clothing for women
Women's property rights
The right to simply exist as herself
She wore full men's suits with a top hat. She was arrested for "impersonating a man."
She showed up in court wearing her Medal of Honor and lectured judges about freedom.
Newspapers called her crazy. Cartoonists mocked her. She didn't stop.
Then came 1917.
Congress revised Medal of Honor standards. They revoked 911 medals—mostly Civil War awards for non-combat service.
Mary's was among them.
The Army sent a letter: return the medal.
Mary Edwards Walker, 84 years old, refused.
She wore it every day. On her suit lapel. To lectures. To the grocery store. Everywhere.
Pinned over her heart like armor.
She died February 21, 1919, at age 86.
She was buried in her black suit, with her Medal of Honor pinned to her chest.
For 58 years, the revocation stood.
Then, in 1977, President Jimmy Carter reviewed her service record.
On June 10, 1977, he signed legislation restoring her Medal of Honor.
She remains the only woman ever awarded it.
Here's what her story really means:
She didn't wait for permission. She didn't wait for society to approve. She didn't wait for the rules to change.
She just lived as if the rules were wrong.
And eventually—decades after her death—the world admitted she'd been right.
Every woman who became a military surgeon walked a path Mary cleared.
Every woman who wears pants without being arrested walks in freedom Mary fought for.
Every person who refuses to apologize for being themselves echoes Mary's defiance.
She died in 1919 wearing the medal they tried to take.
She was buried with it pinned to her chest.
And in 1977, the United States government finally admitted: she'd earned it all along.
She was right to refuse.
Sometimes being ahead of your time means dying before your time catches up.
But it catches up eventually.
And when it does, the medal's still pinned to your chest—exactly where you knew it belonged.
Dr. Mary Edwards Walker: 1832-1919.
The only woman to ever receive the Medal of Honor.
They tried to take it back.
She refused.
And history proved her right.
