President Donald Trump has named nearly 250 figures who will be honored in his National Garden of American Heroes, ranging from Founding Fathers like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson to historical legends like Paul Revere and Johnny “Appleseed” Chapman to pioneer warriors like Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett to presidential greats like Theodore Roosevelt and John F. Kennedy to literary heavyweights like Edgar Allan Poe and Ernest Hemingway to musical icons like Louis Armstrong and Johnny Cash. While the president’s list is exhaustive, it isn’t quite comprehensive.

Last week, this author recommended five heroes — American Revolutionary War commander Ethan Allen, singer-songwriter John Denver, Founding Father John Dickinson, author and diplomat Nathaniel Hawthorne, and missionary Isaac Jogues — for the Trump administration to consider adding to its list. Below are five more American heroes whose lives have influenced the nation and earned the admiration of generations of Americans.

Francis Marion (1732-1795)

Star-studded films centered on the American Revolutionary War are, unfortunately, few and far between, but one of the best-known, “The Patriot,” is based on the exploits of a real-life American hero. Francis Marion was born in what was, at the time, the British province of South Carolina and grew up helping manage his family’s plantation. Shortly before turning 25, Marion and one of his brothers were recruited to serve in the South Carolina militia in the French and Indian War (1754–1763), and Marion at least also fought in the Cherokee War (1758–1761).

As the Revolutionary War broke out, Marion was commissioned as a captain in the Continental Army in 1775. He fought in the Battle of Fort Sullivan in 1776 and was shortly afterward promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel. He then participated in the unsuccessful siege of Savannah, an attempt by allied American and French forces to recapture Georgia’s capital, which had fallen to the British in 1778. When the British took Charleston in 1780, Marion evaded capture, albeit accidentally: he had left the garrison to recover after breaking his ankle. Limping on his broken ankle, Marion assembled a small cadre of between 20 and 70 men to wage war on the forces of Lord Charles Cornwallis.

The small band of soldiers under Marion’s command proved invaluable in combatting the British. In addition to making excellent spies and collecting crucial military intelligence, Marion led his men in pioneering the art of guerilla warfare. “Marion’s Men,” as they were affectionately called, fought for no pay and typically supplied their own horses, food, weapons, and ammunition. They would surprise British forces with sudden attacks and ambushes and, just as quickly as they appeared, would vanish from the battlefield, often before the British had a chance to retaliate. Cornwallis himself, considered a tactical genius of the era, wrote of Marion in his letters and diaries. The British commander particularly noted that Marion had the capacity to inspire the entire countryside to take up arms against the British, although he suspected that Marion may have threatened his countrymen or promised them British plunder.

However, the British themselves did just as much to alienate the American colonials. Colonel Banastre Tarlington (who, in “The Patriot,” appears as the cruel and ruthless William Tavington) was charged with hunting down Marion (just as Tavington, in the film, agreed to hunt down Benjamin Martin, who is largely based on Marion) and cutting off the Continental Army’s supply lines. Marion was instrumental in earning the goodwill of his fellow countrymen and organizing covert supply lines, ensuring that not only his own men but swaths of the Continental Army received food, clothes, blankets, and even ammunition. Tarlington warranted the anger of South Carolinians when he began arbitrarily seizing livestock and food. It was Tarlington, who was unsuccessful in his efforts to hunt down his American counterpart, who gave rise to Marion’s nickname “the Swamp Fox.” After chasing Marion nearly 30 miles through a swamp, Tarlington turned aside, purportedly quipping, “As for this old fox, the Devil himself could not catch him.”

Over the course of the war, Marion fought in significant battles. He was elected to the South Carolina General Assembly and, once the war concluded, rebuilt his family’s plantation, which had been destroyed during the War. When “The Patriot” debuted in 2000, numerous British film critics and pop historians castigated the film’s portrayal of Marion as a hero, throwing out wild accusations and allegations ranging from war crimes to the mass rape of slaves. There is no evidence, however, to support such claims. In fact, Marion is considered to have treated his slaves fairly, and even freed many in his will, providing for the education of young freed slaves in defiance of state law at the time. Marion’s Men also numbered freed black men and escaped slaves among their ranks, but Marion ensured all were treated as American patriots fighting for their nation. The guerilla tactics pioneered by the “Swamp Fox” have left an indelible mark on warfare throughout the ages and are still studied by the U.S. Army, where they form part of the doctrine of the famous Army Rangers.

Dean Martin (1917-1995)

An icon of Italian-American heritage and culture, Dean Martin proved that even a kid from the poor town of Steubenville, Ohio could become the American “King of Cool.” The son of an Italian father and Italian-American mother, Martin moved to New York City at a young age to pursue a career in show business. For a time, he was a prizefighter, and he and roommate Sony King would charge friends to watch the two bare-knuckle box. Martin sang with various jazz bands and orchestras, headlining New York City venues by the age of 26.

However, it was Martin’s friendship with comedian Jerry Lewis that really launched his career. The pair met at New York City’s Belmont Plaza Hotel, where they were performing on the same bill, and quickly became friends. They developed a musical-comedy act together which often consisted of Lewis, dressed as a busboy, clumsily interrupting Martin’s singing in increasingly outrageous ways, until the singer began pelting his comic compatriot with dinner rolls. The duo took New York City nightclubs by storm, eventually making their way onto radio and television. After a 10-year stint with Lewis, including making several films, Martin embarked on a solo career.

Martin landed starring roles in several dramatic films, alongside the likes of Marlon Brando, Montgomery Clift, and John Wayne. He also partnered frequently with fellow singer Frank Sinatra and the two — along with Sammy Davis, Jr., Joey Bishop, and Peter Lawford — formed the “Rat Pack.” The friends would often participate in each act, perform together, and star in films together. Martin, Sinatra, and Davis in particular would perform together in successful Las Vegas shows filled with singing, dancing, and comedy.

Over the years, Martin’s music — for which he was and still is most famous — has endured as a sort of “soundtrack” to a golden age of America, perhaps faded but not yet beyond reach. His smooth voice, jazzy tunes, and easygoing attitude exude the confidence, comfort, and “cool” of the America of the 1950s and at least part of the 1960s, evoking the days when the “nuclear family” was the norm and a family of four or five could afford a home and a wood-paneled sedan on just a single income. In short, Martin has left behind a legacy of aspiration to the promise of the American dream.

Cormac McCarthy (1933-2023)

Often considered one of the greatest American authors, Cormac McCarthy’s work is an ode not just to the great American West, but to the spirit of grit, courage, and even violence which pioneered the West. Born in Rhode Island and raised in Tennessee, McCarthy served for a brief time in the U.S. Air Force before embarking upon a literary career. McCarthy’s first novels centered on Americans in Tennessee and Appalachia, but his magnum opus, “Blood Meridian,” is a pure Western, set in and around the American frontier on the southern border. Brutally violent, “Blood Meridian” tells of the philosophical struggle between a “kid” from Tennessee and the morally depraved Judge Holden.

McCarthy’s work was largely unrecognized for decades: his breakthrough novel was 1992’s “All the Pretty Horses,” another Western, the first of three books in what would become known as the Border Trilogy, which was completed by “The Crossing” (1994) and “Cities of the Plain” (1998). McCarthy’s other notable works include 2005’s “No Country for Old Men” and 2006’s “The Road.”

A recurring theme throughout McCarthy’s work is the existence of moral good in the face of overwhelming evil. Judge Holden in “Blood Meridian” is practically evil personified: an enormous, hairless albino, Holden is a genius who excels in music, dancing, languages, poetry, science, and murder. He is set against the “kid,” an illiterate young man from Tennessee. Although both work as scalp-hunters in the Glanton Gang for a short time, the “kid” gradually becomes disgusted with Holden’s gleeful violence and, after many years apart, the two meet again, when the “kid,” now called the “man,” spurns Holden’s offer of friendship. The novel ends ambiguously, but it is implied that Holden has eviscerated the “man.”

The theme appears again prominently in “No Country for Old Men,” where the sadistic assassin Anton Chigurh proclaims that his murders are a matter of chance and fate, determined by a coin toss. When Carla Jean Moss refuses to play Chigurh’s coin toss game, he kills her nonetheless, dismantling his chance-and-fate narrative. In the cases of both the “kid” and Carla Jean, these characters who evince some moral backbone are pitted against brutal and seemingly unstoppable enemies. Although both the “kid” and Carla Jean are killed, they stand as a testament to the truth that it is better to face death adhering to moral good than to devolve into evil and moral depravity.

Although he spent more than half of his career largely unrecognized, McCarthy produced a body of work that not only lovingly memorializes the American West and frontier but explores the moral spirit of America. In an episode illustrative of his own uniquely American character, McCarthy sold the Olivetti Lettera typewriter that he bought at a pawnshop in 1963 at a charity auction for over $250,000. McCarthy promptly went to an antique shop and bought the exact same model typewriter for $20 and continued writing.

Casimir Pulaski (1745-1779)

Another hero of the American Revolutionary War, Casimir Pulaski is considered the “Father of the American cavalry.” Born in Warsaw to a family of Polish nobles, Pulaski fought in the War of the Bar Confederation in his native Poland, in an effort to prevent Russia from taking control of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. Over the course of various campaigns, the young Polish noble proved himself an adept and courageous military commander, especially as a cavalry commander. When the Bar Confederation was finally defeated, Pulaski fled to France, having been accused of regicide for his part in rising up against the Russian-allied King Stanislaus II.

In France, Pulaski was recruited by Benjamin Franklin and the Marquis de Lafayette to fight in the American Revolutionary War. Upon arriving in the U.S. near Boston, Pulaski wrote to General George Washington, “I came here, where freedom is being defended, to serve it, and to live or die for it.” Even before he was granted an officer’s commission by the Continental Congress, the Polish nobleman fought alongside Washington in the Battle of Brandywine Creek, where he led a courageous cavalry charge that allowed the Continental Army a chance to retreat and saved Washington’s life.

Pulaski was quickly commissioned as a brigadier general and began organizing the Continental Army’s cavalry forces, which, at that time, was only a few hundred men strong and used primarily as scouts. So skilled was Pulaski as a cavalry commander that when he led a group of only 50 men against a small British landing force on the banks of the Delaware River, the British Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Stirling was convinced that he was facing a significantly larger force and withdrew across the river. In Yorktown, Pulaski put together a cavalry unit of nearly 70 lancers and 200 light cavalry, all trained to the highest, most elite standards.

With his cavalry unit trained, Pulaski was ordered to South Carolina, where he participated in the defense of Charleston, several skirmishes against British soldiers, and the siege of Savannah, despite his increasingly frequent bouts of malaria. While rallying American-allied French cavalry soldiers to reclaim Savannah, Pulaski was struck by grapeshot and carried off the battlefield in a coma. He never regained consciousness.

In addition to effectively founding America’s cavalry, Pulaski played a pivotal role in the birth of the United States, including saving the life of our first president. The Polish nobleman was so devoted to fighting for liberty that, when he was exiled from his own nation, he fought for the liberty of another and finally gave his life for that cause.

Stanley Rother (1935-1981)

Like Isaac Jogues (featured in the first installment in this series), Stanley Rother was a Catholic priest and a missionary. But where Jogues brought the Gospel to the New World, Rother carried his love for Christ from the U.S. to the wider world. Born in Oklahoma in 1935, Rother was eager to join the priesthood, but his struggles with Latin (the official language of the Catholic Church) nearly prevented him from being ordained.

In 1968, after five years as a parish priest, Rother asked to be assigned as a missionary to the Tz’utujil people in Guatemala. Despite his previous difficulties with Latin, Rother devoted himself to learning the unwritten Mayan language of the Tz’utujil. Within five years, he had mastered the native tongue well enough to preach in it. The young priest became popular among the Tz’utujil and taught them math and languages, in addition to the gospel.

Rother was summoned back to Oklahoma in 1981, as anti-Catholic paramilitary death squads began torturing and executing priests in Guatemala, including some of Rother’s friends and fellow missionaries. He did not stay in the U.S. long and returned to Guatemala just a few months later, knowing that his name was eighth from the top on a paramilitary hit list. Explaining his decision to return to Guatemala, Rother told his bishop, “The shepherd cannot run at the first sign of danger.”

In July of that year, paramilitary assassins broke into the rectory and, after a struggle, shot Rother twice in the head. His remains were transported back to Oklahoma, but the Tz’utujil requested that their shepherd’s heart be removed and buried under the altar in the chapel where he preached to them. In an era when America’s “foreign assistance” programs like the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) have been exposed for exporting woke, left-wing ideology across the globe, Rother’s story stands as a hopeful reminder that there are Americans willing to export the gospel to even the remotest regions of the world, even if it costs them their lives.