This is an outstanding article that was written not long after SFC Jorge Otero passed away. It was written by the facebook group "The way we were". I just read it yesterday but wish i had read it sooner. There are a couple of technical corrections that need to be made, But i am going to share it as it is written. Pleas sign and share this petition. 

"Five tours in Vietnam. Wounded five times. Kept volunteering to go back. Earned 38 medals including 5 Purple Hearts. Died last month at 87. You've probably never heard his name.
Vega Baja, Puerto Rico, 1937.
Jorge Otero Barreto was born in a small town west of San Juan, in an American territory whose people were citizens but couldn't vote for president, who served in the military but weren't always acknowledged as Americans.
Jorge grew up knowing Puerto Rico's complicated relationship with the mainland. U.S. citizenship granted in 1917—conveniently, just in time for World War I draft. Decades of being neither fully American nor fully independent. The strange limbo of belonging and not belonging simultaneously.
When Jorge enlisted in the U.S. Army around 1960, he wasn't running toward anything specific. He was a working-class kid from Puerto Rico who saw military service as opportunity, duty, maybe a path to something better.
He had no idea he'd become one of the most decorated soldiers in American military history.
He had no idea he'd volunteer for hell. Five times.
Jorge's first deployment to Vietnam came in 1961—early in the conflict, when most Americans didn't even know where Vietnam was.
He served as a military advisor, working with South Vietnamese forces. The job was supposed to be relatively safe—training, advising, minimal direct combat.
Jorge saw action immediately. He distinguished himself under fire. Earned commendations. When his tour ended, he could have gone home, taken a stateside assignment, avoided combat.
Instead, he volunteered to return.
Second tour. More combat. More danger. More decorations for valor. Wounded for the first time—earned his first Purple Heart.
When that tour ended, Jorge volunteered for a third.
Then a fourth.
Then a fifth.
Five combat tours in Vietnam. At a time when most soldiers served one tour and considered themselves lucky to survive it. At a time when two tours was considered exceptionally unlucky or exceptionally dedicated.
Jorge Otero Barreto served five.
He wasn't just deployed five times. He sought combat.
While other soldiers angled for safer rear-echelon positions, Jorge requested infantry assignments. Front-line combat. The most dangerous zones. The operations with highest casualty rates.
He was wounded five times. Five separate occasions where enemy fire hit him badly enough to earn a Purple Heart—the medal given for being wounded or killed in action.
Most soldiers with one Purple Heart never want to see combat again. Jorge had five and kept volunteering.
He earned 5 Bronze Stars—some with "V" device for valor, meaning he'd performed acts of heroism under enemy fire.
He earned a Silver Star—the third-highest military decoration, given for gallantry in action.
He earned 4 Army Commendation Medals.
In total: 38 military decorations.
Thirty-eight.
He became one of the most decorated soldiers of the entire Vietnam War—a conflict that saw millions of Americans serve and tens of thousands die.
His fellow soldiers called him "The Puerto Rican Rambo"—a nickname that honored his courage but also reduced him to a movie stereotype, as if real bravery needed comparison to Hollywood fiction.
Jorge wasn't Rambo. He was just a Puerto Rican soldier who kept going back because people needed him.
What drives someone to volunteer for combat five times?
Jorge never gave simple answers. In rare interviews, he spoke about duty, about not wanting to leave brothers-in-arms, about feeling Puerto Ricans needed to prove they belonged in the American story.
There's something painful in that last part. The idea that Jorge felt he needed to bleed five times to prove Puerto Ricans deserved recognition. That 38 medals were required to validate his citizenship. That surviving five combat tours was the price of belonging.
Puerto Rico has sent soldiers to every American war since WWI. Per capita, Puerto Ricans serve in the military at higher rates than most states. They fight, they die, they earn medals.
And most Americans have no idea.
Jorge Otero Barreto earned 38 medals, served 5 combat tours, was wounded 5 times—and remained largely unknown outside military and Puerto Rican communities.
No movies made about him. No books. No national recognition until very late in life.
Just a Puerto Rican soldier who kept volunteering for hell because someone had to, and he believed that someone should be him.
After Vietnam, Jorge retired from active duty as a Sergeant Major—one of the highest enlisted ranks.
He could have leveraged his decorations into speaking tours, book deals, military consulting. Some decorated veterans become celebrities.
Jorge went home to Puerto Rico and lived quietly.
He remained active in veteran communities. He advocated for Puerto Rican veterans, many of whom faced the same obscurity he did—extraordinary service that went unrecognized because they weren't from the mainland.
He attended veteran events. Spoke occasionally about his service. Received some Puerto Rican honors.
But he never became famous. Never became a household name. Never got the recognition that soldiers with far fewer decorations received.
On October 14, 2024, Jorge Otero Barreto died at age 87.
His death was reported in military circles and Puerto Rican media. Some veterans' organizations honored him. A few news outlets ran obituaries.
Most of America never noticed.
Here's what makes Jorge's story both inspiring and infuriating:
He served his country with extraordinary courage. Five combat tours. Thirty-eight medals. Five Purple Hearts. Silver Star. Bronze Stars with valor devices.
By any measure, he was a hero. One of the most decorated soldiers of his generation.
And most Americans have never heard his name.
Partly because he was modest. Partly because he didn't seek fame.
But partly—maybe mostly—because he was Puerto Rican.
American enough to die in Vietnam. Not American enough to be remembered.
American enough to volunteer five times. Not American enough to have movies made about his courage.
American enough to bleed for this country five separate times. Not American enough to be taught in history classes.
Jorge Otero Barreto proved something that shouldn't need proving: Puerto Ricans are Americans. They serve. They sacrifice. They die for this country.
He earned 38 medals demonstrating that truth.
And still, most Americans don't know he existed.
He died last month—October 14, 2024—at age 87, having outlived most of his generation, having survived five combat tours that should have killed him, having earned recognition that never quite came.
His funeral had military honors. A flag-draped coffin. The rifle salute. Taps played.
The ceremony said: this man mattered.
The silence from the rest of America said: but not enough for us to remember.
If Jorge Otero Barreto had been born in Texas or Ohio or Virginia, if he'd had the same service record but came from a state instead of a territory, would he be famous?
Would there be books about him? Documentaries? School lessons?
Would kids learn his name alongside other war heroes?
Maybe. Probably.
But he was Puerto Rican. So his 38 medals, his 5 combat tours, his 5 wounds, his Silver Star—all of it remains mostly unknown.
He died a month ago. One of the most decorated soldiers in U.S. military history.
And you probably just learned his name for the first time.
Five combat tours in Vietnam. Wounded five times. Thirty-eight medals including 5 Purple Hearts and a Silver Star. Died last month at 87. You've probably never heard of him—because he was Puerto Rican" 

• Written by facebook group "The Way We Were" .