Persian Gulf summers are so hot that the air looks wavy when the heat gathers on the water. It can make things hard to spot. But one afternoon, while our ship kept watch for oil smugglers out there in the thick of it, a young sailor’s sharp eyes cut through the haze to spot two fishermen. They were adrift and stranded, so desperate that they’d resorted to drinking the salty water. Naturally, we rescued them; the code mandates it — sailors help those who are in danger at sea.

We learned the men were Iranian and had been aimlessly floating for days after the engine broke on their small motorboat. We brought them onboard and provided medical attention, clothes, food and water. Then, another problem arose: What happens now? Where do they go from here? Understandably, they wanted to immediately go home. But the United States and Iran don’t have diplomatic relations — getting them ashore would be a bureaucratic nightmare. We decided to have our linguists hail a tugboat on the radio to arrange for their safe return under the cover of night. And it all went according to plan. The next day, our captain fastened a medal to the young sailor’s uniform for saving two lives. But all of us clutched a sort of badge of honor to our chests, a story of heroism to tell.

Though this happened more than 20 years ago, the news of two Navy SEALs lost at sea this month made the memory fresh again. Their team had just intercepted a vessel in the dead of night in some rough waters off Yemen. Once onboard, the team found Iranian-made weapon parts meant to supply rebels targeting ships in the Red Sea, including firing ballistic missiles at U.S. Navy ships. Before this discovery, though, one of the SEALs slipped during the boarding and fell into the deep, weighted by his body armor. Another dove in after him; the code requires it — sailors help those in danger at sea. The Navy searched for 10 days, hoping to find some luck gathered on those waters a world away from home, to no avail. Some stories from sea get pinned to your heart.

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The SEALs were out there that night because of policy choices in a dangerous world. Houthi rebels in Yemen — with armaments from Iran arriving via small smuggling ships — are trying to disrupt a vital world trade route, as a show of solidarity with Palestinians in Gaza. So the United States sent its best to protect its people and interests. That night, however, two of its best gave their lives — not to consecrate a national security objective but in service to a code.

This distinction is critical. People who put themselves in harm’s way are usually not ardent champions of the policies or actions that created the dangers they face; first responders, educators and social workers, Navy SEALs. They don’t risk their lives out of devotion to an institution or politician or protest movement’s bulleted list of demands. Rather, at their best, their sacrifices come from a sense of duty to a first principle. Amid the world’s chaos are stories of people helping others. It’s where the heroes are.

In the days after the fishermen’s rescue, our sharp-eyed shipmate and the whole crew buzzed with pride. We retold the story so many times that it started to feel like a myth. Roles were playfully exaggerated. Irreverent humor arrived — a sailor’s sign of respect. Every visitor to our ship heard the tale, including an admiral who stopped the spirited recap with news that shook our souls: The Iranian fishermen had been hanged — executed for associating with us, for being saved by the United States. The crew was heartbroken. For many of us, the badge became a scar, pinned to our hearts. A medal of its own kind.

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It’s a complicated world, the waters murky everywhere. Doing the right thing doesn’t always pay off. Sometimes lives are saved, but sometimes they are taken — taken as a result of politics and callousness. And sometimes lives are given — given in service to something bigger than politics. We have a responsibility to them all, to the victims of injustice as well as to those who dive in to help — in classrooms, in unsafe communities, in dangerous waters.

Another day at sea comes back to mind, off the coast of California. Some jet skiers had lost their way and stranded themselves overnight. Word of it reached our Navy battle group, out exercising before the summer’s deployment. We joined the search and rescue effort in a story so fantastical that it’s been thought an urban legend. Finding them in a big ocean needed all the winds of good fortune to gather on the water. But, following the code, we had to try. Luck smiled the next morning and the Coast Guard gave our group a commendation, a sea story to fasten to our uniforms. And a story of mettle, too, which can be worn forever.

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