For over a decade, Johnny Joey Jones has been a recognizable figure: a Marine veteran who transitioned into a motivational speaker and Fox News contributor, known for his humor, resilience, and straightforward views on politics and life after combat. But as he marks the 13th anniversary of the explosion in Afghanistan that took both of his legs, Jones is finally opening up about a part of his story he seldom discusses—one marked by doubt, guilt, and a rejection of honors that many assumed he eagerly embraced.
“It wasn’t just the blast that changed me,” Jones shared with a packed crowd at a recent veterans’ event in Dallas. “It was everything that led up to it, and everything that came after. There are things I still replay every single morning.” The IED that nearly claimed his life detonated on a dusty patrol route in Helmand Province in 2010. What most people don’t realize is that Jones wasn’t even supposed to be in that exact spot. He had volunteered to take point so a younger Marine, just 19 years old, could rest. “I thought I was protecting him,” Jones recalled. “But when I stepped forward, I knew right away I had walked into the wrong place at the wrong time. That guilt—it never leaves you.”
Jones credits his survival to a combat medic whose name he didn’t learn until years later. “He was a blur in the chaos—shouting orders, putting tourniquets on faster than I could even comprehend what was happening,” Jones said. “For a long time, I didn’t know his name. I just remember him saying, ‘Stay with me, Marine. You’re not done yet.’” Jones has since reconnected with the medic, who he now calls a “brother for life.”
Johnny “Joey” Jones – Mission Six Zero
Perhaps the most surprising detail Jones has shared is that he initially declined the Purple Heart. “At the time, I didn’t feel like I deserved it,” he confessed. “There were Marines who didn’t make it home. There were guys who lost more than I did. I thought, ‘How can I take this medal when I’m still breathing?’” His refusal was not born out of disrespect but from a deep sense of survivor’s guilt that took years to confront. Eventually, a commanding officer helped him see it differently. “He told me, ‘The Purple Heart isn’t about what you lost. It’s about the price you paid on behalf of others.’ That changed everything.”
Even now, Jones admits that the toughest battles aren’t physical. “Prosthetics, pain, all of that—you can figure out,” he said. “But waking up and convincing yourself you’re worthy, that’s the real challenge. Every day is a fight against the voice in your head telling you that you’re broken.” His wife Meg has been his rock through the darkest moments. “She doesn’t treat me like a symbol or a victim. She treats me like Joey,” he said with a smile. “That’s the biggest gift.”
Today, Jones uses his platform to raise awareness about veteran issues and mental health. His speeches, often infused with humor, have inspired thousands. “I realized that my story isn’t just mine anymore,” he reflected. “It belongs to every young man or woman who wonders if they can keep going. And the answer is: yes, you can.” As for the secrets he’s now shared publicly, Jones says it’s about honesty, not seeking pity. “People see the prosthetics and the TV appearances, but they don’t always see the scars you carry inside. I think it’s important that they know those scars exist.”
With a pause, he added, “If my story can stop just one vet from giving up on themselves, then all the pain was worth it.”