Small-town New England has a certain serenity that hovers like a mist—it’s robust, leisurely, and intensely personal. Born in Lowell and brought up all throughout New Hampshire, Ryan Pitts almost perfectly captures that mentality. The characteristics that molded him were probably developed much earlier—over dinner tables, in winter-thick woods, or perhaps on peaceful drives through historic mill towns—even though the tale that thrust him into the national spotlight was one of blazing pandemonium in a remote Afghan outpost.
Pitts had a goal in mind even as a kindergartener. He desired to serve in the military. Most kids toy with the idea of being superheroes or astronauts, but Pitts, who was incredibly focused, had picked something grounded, something orderly. And that early feeling of purpose manifested itself in a way that was both genuine and unquestionably heroic when he eventually enlisted in the Army.
Ryan Pitts – Biography & Background
| Full Name | Ryan M. Pitts |
|---|---|
| Date of Birth | October 1, 1985 |
| Birthplace | Lowell, Massachusetts, USA |
| Raised In | Mont Vernon and other parts of New England |
| Military Service | U.S. Army, 2003–2009 |
| Rank | Staff Sergeant |
| Awards | Medal of Honor, Bronze Star, Purple Heart |
| Notable Battle | Battle of Wanat, Afghanistan (2008) |
| Post-Army Career | Business Development, Oracle Corporation |
| Education | Univ. of New Hampshire – Business Degree |
| Marital Status | Married to Amy Pitts since 2012 |
| Children | One son, Lucas |
| Public Recognition | “New Englander of the Year” (2015) |
| Source | www.army.mil/medalofhonor/pitts |
He hardly ever discusses his parents in public. However, their effect can be seen in the decisions he took and his current demeanor, which is modest, composed, and steadfastly devoted. Some recipients of the Medal of Honor lead public lives, giving speeches whenever possible or penning memoirs, but Pitts took a totally different approach. He went back to New Hampshire, wed Amy, had Lucas, and discreetly worked for Oracle in business development.
For many veterans, that type of re-entry into civilian life is remarkably challenging. It frequently feels like a trade-off between intensity and ambiguity when moving from military procedure to office relations. Pitts, however, who must have had a very grounded upbringing, handled the change with remarkable poise. He received the 2015 “New Englander of the Year” award for embodying the region’s tenacity and humility long after he returned home, rather than only for his military achievements.
But his pivotal moment was created—literally—under fire. Pitts was on top of Observation Post Topside on July 13, 2008, during a pre-dawn raid in Kunar Province, Afghanistan, when a group of about 200 enemy combatants launched a concerted attack. He was severely injured in a matter of seconds, with shrapnel ripping through his limbs. There was a significant loss of blood. It was impossible to stand now.
Under the pressure of his wounds, Pitts hurled grenades with horrifying accuracy. He gave others his primary weapon. Knowing full well that every word he spoke could be his last, he muttered enemy positions into the radio. A complete overrun was avoided thanks to his actions, which were especially successful in restraining the enemy’s momentum. His clarity under siege, rather than brute firepower, saved American lives.
It’s like watching a movie when you read the citation, but there was no plot, no rehearsal, and no assurance of survival. But it wasn’t the fight description that stuck with me. It was the quiet that ensued. Pitts never tried to take center stage in any story.
He rarely wears his medal. He draws emphasis to his comrades who failed to return during interviews. He enumerates their names slowly and respectfully, as if every sound needed room to settle. By doing this, he offers us a really powerful lesson about respecting memory: you don’t make it better by putting yourself in the spotlight; instead, you make room for others.
It is easy to envision what his upbringing could have been like—parents who emphasized accountability, praised tenacity over accolades, and pushed dedication even in the absence of reward. Being “raised all over New England” required constant adjustment, redefining expectations, and learning how to maintain stability when the environment changed.
Under severe circumstances, these abilities—which are highly transferable and subtly taught—proved to be life-saving. Pitts held the line despite losing the capacity to move physically. He directed supporting fire, kept the enemy forces from advancing, and communicated with leadership. It was crucial from a tactical standpoint. It was exceptional by human standards.
Pitts did not withdraw following his 2009 medical discharge. He studied business at the University of New Hampshire and dedicated himself to a completely different mission—one that required him to navigate boardrooms rather than combat zones. He created a second life that is noticeably more stable via careful planning and perseverance, supported by a family he jealously keeps hidden from the public.
Pitts once described himself as “private.” That privacy is principled, not elusive. It conveys a deeper conviction that not all deeds of service need justification. Sometimes it’s sufficient to simply be there—as a friend, mentor, husband, or father.
