LeatherneckM31's Men of Valor

We Stand at 86

 
HONOLULU (HawaiiNewsNow) - Hawaii is mourning the loss of World War II veteran Barney Hajiro. The Oahu man was the oldest living Medal of Honor recipient in America.

Barney Hajiro, 94, served in the Army's famed 442nd Regimental Combat Team. He single-handedly destroyed two German machine gun nests during the rescue of the "Lost Battalion" in France. He was shot in the cheek, shoulder and wrist, leaving his left arm paralyzed.

For additional information click  here.

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And, the Secretary of the Army approved two belated nominations for the country's highest military honor, The Medal of Honor.

Recommendations put forward are for a Union officer killed in action at Gettysburg and an Army chaplain who died almost 100 years later while a Korean War POW.

It was 148 years ago when Alonzo Cushing, a Union artillery officer, rallied his troops to withstand Pickett's Charge at Cemetery Ridge, Gettysburg. They held, Pickett fell back and that marked the high-water mark of the Confederate States of America.

Cushing was killed in that battle, although "killed" seems hardly the word. Consider this graphic description, found in Wikipedia, which cites Kent Brown's book, "Cushing of Gettysburg."

KOREA

• 1952—After the battle of Unsan, Korea, Roman Catholic Chaplain Emil Kapaun remained behind with the wounded US troops, was captured by the Chinese and held as a prisoner in North Korea.

He would eventually die in captivity and was buried in a mass grave.

In Kapaun's case, it wasn't so much a single act of valor as a sustained life of humility and service while he tended to others, before and after he was captured. He ministered to the spiritual and physical needs of his fellows, even through immense personal suffering, which included frozen feet and pneumonia.

He was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for his gallantry which will be upgraded to the Medal of Honor if the recommendation is approved. 

For additional information on these officers, click here. 

First MOH awarded first living Recipient since Vietnam

 

Staff Sergeant Salvatore Giunta, U.S. Army, a native son of Iowa, was awarded the Medal of Honor 6 Nov. for his courageous actions during 2007 combat operations against the enemy in the Korengal Valley, Afghanistan.  Staff Sergeant Giunta's wife, Jennifer, and his parents, Steven and Rosemary Giunta were present when the young soldier received the nation;'s highest award for valor in a White House ceremony.

Giunta 25, a veteran of two combat tours in Afghanistan totaling 27 months, enlisted in the Army in 2003 and attended basic and advanced training at Fort Benning, Georgia.

He is currently assigned to 2-503rd Infantry Battalion, Rear Detachment, Camp Ederle, Italy. 

He is the first living person to receive the Medal of Honor since the nation’s highest award for valor was earned by U.S. Navy SEAL, Mike Thornton, for his heroic action 31 Oct., 1972 in North Vietnam.

The White House has released the following account of Giunta’s action, but it is not necessarily the official citation which will be read for the first time at the presentation ceremony.

 

Then-Specialist Salvatore A. Giunta distinguished himself by acts of gallantry at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as a rifle team leader with Company B, 2d Battalion (Airborne), 503d Infantry Regiment during combat operations against an armed enemy in the Korengal Valley, Afghanistan on October 25, 2007. When an insurgent force ambush split Specialist Giunta's squad into two groups, he exposed himself to enemy fire to pull a comrade back to cover. Later, while engaging the enemy and attempting to link up with the rest of his squad, Specialist Giunta noticed two insurgents carrying away a fellow soldier. He immediately engaged the enemy, killing one and wounding the other, and provided medical aid to his wounded comrade while the rest of his squad caught up and provided security. His courage and leadership while under extreme enemy fire were integral to his platoon's ability to defeat an enemy ambush and recover a fellow American paratrooper from enemy hands.

For further information regarding the SSgt Giunta check here.

 

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The USS Jason Dunham, the Navy's newest guided missile destroyer, arrived at Port Everglades, Florida, this morning in advance of its upcoming commissioning ceremony.

The Dunham will be commissioned Nov. 13, the centerpiece of 10 days of events celebrating the Navy and its sailors.

The new vessel was named after a Marine and posthumous Medal of Honor Recipient who sacrificed his life during combat in Iraq so his comrades could live.
The 510-foot-long vessel and its 380-member crew will be formally inducted into the Navy during an hour-and-a-half-long ceremony featuring top military brass, state politicians and possibly the governor. The crowd of 5,000 is expected.

Dunham, a corporal from upstate New York, threw his helmet and his body on top of a live grenade during a firefight in Karabilah in April 2004. His action saved the lives of two fellow Marines. Dunham died eight days later at age 22. A piece of his helmet is enshrined in the mast of the warship.

Dunham was the first Marine to receive the Medal of Honor in the Iraq war and the first Marine to be so honored since the Vietnam War.

For additional information regarding Dunham click here.

David

It would have pleased David mightily; not the pomp and ceremony, but the heartfelt tribute paid him yesterday as the people of his hometown, said farewell and Godspeed to a truly loved member of Crosby Texas.

The motor procession route from his church to the Houston National Cemetery was lined with hundreds of Real Americans, all ages, genders, ages and walks of life who knew and respected what David life meant to theirs, his beloved state of Texas, and the Nation. But just as much they loved the Massachusetts native for choosing their small town as his own… his dedication to their beliefs, their youth and Junior ROTC cadets, the veteran community, especially American Legion Post 658, and his devotion to his God and fellow man.

To say that Vietnam Medal of Honor Recipient 1stSgt David McNerney was loved is a disservice to the term. I asked an older couple along the route if they knew David, and the gentleman said with tears in his eyes, “He was my neighbor, lived right behind me… I’ve lost a great friend.”

In my weaker moments, I cannot understand why some Americans, though they are the clear minority,  refuse to understand or appreciate what being a Real American is… to stand in the just sun and humidity for hours just to pay their respects the a great national hero and thank him for allowing them to live safe and free to go about their lives free of fear and oppression.

But in the end, the summer soldiers and sunshine patriots, the domestic enemies and those who hate our beloved nation matter not; as 1stSgt McNerney and his men of A Company, 1st of the 8th showed the enemy more than 40 decades ago, it only requires a dedicated group of patriots, a band of bothers, those willing to lay down their very lives for their comrades and people back home—even those who disrespect and hate them—to preserve liberty and freedom.

It was a great honor for Don and Lynette, Scott and Jenny and myself to participate in David’s farewell, but it was also a duty; we would have been nowhere else.

And as we made the long drive back across the Lone Star state, one of David’s favorite old songs played in our heads….

I'll be seeing you

In all the old familiar places

That this heart of mine embraces

All day through.

In that small cafe;

The park across the way;

The children's carousel;

The chestnut trees;

The wishin' well.

I'll be seeing you

In every lovely summer's day;

In every thing that's light and gay.

I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you

In the morning sun

And when the night is new.

I'll be looking at the moon,

But I'll be seeing you.

More about David here, here and here.

Video coverage here.

David McNerney--June 2, 1931 – October 10, 2010

Vietnam Medal of Honor Recipient, 1stSgt. David McNerney, passed away early Sunday morning at the VA hospital  in Houston after a months long battle with cancer. He was 79.

Viewing will be Friday, Oct. 15 from 3 to 9 p.m. at the Sterling White Funeral Home, 11011 Crosby Lynchburg Road (also called FM 2100 Road), Highlands, TX.  Rosary will be at 7 p.m.

Funeral services will be held Saturday at noon at Sacred Heart Catholic Church, 915 Runneburg Road, Crosby, TX.

Full military honors will be rendered immediately after the funeral at the Houston National Cemetery, 0410 Veterans Memorial Drive, Houston, Texas.

David requested that in lieu of flowers, donations may be made  to the Wounded Warrior Project - http://www.woundedwarriorproject.

His passing leaves the number of surviving Recipients at 86.

Read more here.

At last……

       

Richard Etchberger holds the Medal of Honor that was presented posthumously to his father Air Force Chief Master Sgt. Richard L. Etchberger, by President Barack Obama during a ceremony in the East Room of the White House in Washington, Tuesday, Sept. 21, 2010. Etchberger received the honor for his heroic actions in combat in Laos on March 11, 1968, after deliberately exposing himself to enemy fire in order to put his wounded comrades in rescue slings permitting them to be airlifted to safety.… Read more » 

              

Above, step-son Steve Wilson, and sons Corey and Richard Etchberger (l-r), react as they receive their father’s Medal of Honor during a ceremony in the East Room of the White House in Washington. Etchberger earned The Medal for his heroic actions in combat in Laos on March 11, 1968, after deliberately exposing himself to enemy fire in order to put his wounded comrades in rescue slings permitting them to be airlifted to safety.… Read more »

Above, Robert Etchberger, left, places a wreath a at memorial to his brother with John David, one of the men of the 1st Combat Evaluation Group the chief saved in Laos. The darker circle under Richard Etchberger's name was left blank in case his Air Force Cross is upgraded to a Medal of Honor.

       

At left are Etchberger’s parents with a photo of their son early in his Air Force career.

For more details on Chief Etchberger’s action, see my post on Lima Site 85

and…

Air Force Time story.

Where do we find such men……?

In a recent flurry of Medal of Honor news, I’ve learned that yet a third Medal of Honor, this one to a Green Beret KIA in Afghanistan, will be awarded in the coming weeks.

January 25, 2008:  While serving as a Special Forces weapons sergeant for his team, SSgt Robert J. Miller, 24, volunteered to walk point on a night patrol in the Konar Province near the Pakistan border. Because of his Pashto language abilities, he also led and directed the small local contingent of Afghan national soldiers; as they approached their target the patrol was attacked by insurgents.

In the ensuing chaos Miller immediately directed fire and provided cover for his men, then he immediately engaged several enemy, buying time for his teammates to take cover. Repeatedly leaving relatively safe cover, Miller drew fire from more than 100 enemy fighters, ultimately saving the lives of his fellow Green Berets and 15 local ANA Soldiers.

The unit called for close-air support to bomb an insurgent position, but were attacked again when they moved in to survey the damage.

Miller’s team captain was seriously wounded and as he was moved to safety, Miller took control at the front of the patrol and continued to lay down suppressive fire on multiple insurgent positions, ultimately saving his commander’s life.

First Sgt. David McNerney

CROSBY TEXAS – For likely the last time his troops regrouped.

The men of A Co., 1st Battn., 8th Infantry Regt., 4th Infantry Div. who fought a desperate battle 43 years ago were gathered to say goodbye… goodbye to the hard as nails “top sergeant” the young troops resisted and even disliked in training, but had come to thank him for for their very lives, as well as those of their children and grandchildren.

In early spring 1967, career solider 1stSgt. David McNerney took command of his unit in Polei Doc, Republic of Vietnam; the commanding officer was dead and the NVA surrounded and threatened to decimate the inexperienced Americans.

McNerney, just two years from retirement, was everywhere over two days, drawing on a lifetime of experience and genuine love for soldiers young enough to be his sons.

McNerney would be awarded the Medal of Honor of the action which he insists was actually earned by the men in his command and that he simply wears it for them, especially those who died fighting a determined and fanatical enemy. 

There is a deep sadness in their eyes. If only they could pay him back in kind for the four decades he’d given them, but cancer is too tough for 1stSgt McNerney, too much for his troops and in the end will succeed where an entire enemy battalion could not.

But this day, with smiles and stories shared with and about their leader, they could bask in a few hours of life that only survivors know, the payoff for those who have seen death and know first-hand that the difference in living and dying is a matter of inches, a sudden movement or miscalculation…. or the great heroism of a combat leader. 

They hovered around him, anticipating every need or possible discomfort, he didn’t require a cane or a wheelchair; still strong arms abounded.

It was deeply touching to those who gather from around the country to spend just a few hours, other guests could only imagine the depth of the bond that has lasted most of these mens’ lives. 

At the center of a swirl of activity for several hours, Top accepted the greetings and best wishes of the good people of his hometown, neighbors and comrades with dignity and grace, never complaining or giving into the pain.

He signed scores of autographs, a trying task for those healthy but unused to the ritual, but just another day in the life of someone who has literally signed his name tens of of thousands of times without complaint.

It was a good day for all who had come for one purpose—to honor a man deserving of that and more at a time when heroes are in short supply and many Americans have forgotten or never learned about duty, honor, country.

David McNerney never forgot from the moment 60 years ago he pledged his very life to defend his country.

It seems unfair; such men should get to live as long as they want, but soldiers learn early that life is not fair.

But as long as a single A Company trooper draws breath, David McNerney will be remembered.

 

 

 

 

 

                

                      

 

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Army airborne soldier first living Recipient since 1972

Editor’s note:

Just 30 minutes ago the story broke that Staff Sgt. Sal Giunta will soon be awarded the Medal of Honor for his 2007 actions in Afghanistan.

This is the first living recipient since Halloween nigh, 1972 when U.S. Navy SEAL Mike Thornton saved his shipmates from annihilation in a mission gone wrong north of the DMZ in Vietnam. 

I was working on this post since this morning, irate because of the delay – for years—to award the Medal to a living American hero.

It has been almost three years since Staff Sgt. Sal Giunta, right, fought through a barrage of fire to repel enemy fighters in a fierce battle in Afghanistan.

His actions saved the lives of several other soldiers. His commanding officer nominated him for the Medal of Honor after the battle.

A relatively simple process that required only a year or 18 months at the height of World War II, now slogs along for years or even decades as government and the military politicians continue to deprive America of its heroes.

The heroic actions of Giunta and the exploits of some of his 173rd Airborne paratrooper buddies in that unit are vividly chronicled in Sebastian Junger’s book “War” and the documentary “Restrepo” (which premiered last June). The two spent a total of five months with a Battle Company platoon and the book and film show the tremendous challenges these men faced and overcame in the treacherous Korengal Valley.

Just for emphasis…. a documentary and a book were written, filmed, edited, printed, published and shown long before Pentagon pencil pushers can decide whether one of America’s best can be publicly recognized by a grateful nation.

If justice delayed is justice denied… what must be said of intentionally delaying the valor award decision when the first-person, straight forward, eye witness accounts are the first best evidence… and should be the only evidence?

Consider the case of WWII B-29 air crewman Henry “Red” Erwin who although severely injured and burned,  successfully saved his plane by disposing of the smoke-generating bomb which detonated on board. For these actions, he was awarded the Medal of Honor one week later, on April 19, 1945.

Because doctors believed he wouldn’t survive Gen. Curtis LeMay ordered that the only Medal of Honor in the Pacific immediately available must be removed from its display case in Hawaii. The case was broken into, the Medal removed and immediately flown to Erwin’s bedside.

Yes, that was when a theater commander could award the Medal; the Secretary of the branch, the Pentagon and the politicians were not involved except to ceremonial purpose.

Perhaps it’s time to return to that policy.

If it were you would you want your comrades, and your theater commander to make the decision, or would you want some Secretary of Defense who was appointed because he contribute money to the right politicians?

This is what has become of America’s process to bestow it’s highest and most meaningful honor:

Defense Secretary Robert Gates rejected a Marine Corps recommendation that Sgt. Rafael Peralta receive the Medal of Honor for sacrificing his life to save his fellow Marines by pulling an enemy grenade under him after being wounded.

A Gates-appointed panel unanimously concluded that the report on Peralta’s action that included the testimony of marines who were eyewitnesses to Peralta’s heroism, did not meet the standard of “no margin of doubt or possibility of error.”

This news broke when I was in Denver for the 2008 Medal of Honor convention and I took a quick survey of the Recipients I knew… they were uniformly astounded that a Recipient would have a hand in judging another’s heroism. The conflict is obvious.

As one put it gesturing around the patio bar where his peers were gathered, “I wouldn’t want any of these sonsabitches deciding on my Medal.” It was said with a grin, but he meant it.

The “panel” which found Peralta unworthy of The Medal was made up of civilian pathologists and one Medal of Honor Recipient who remains unidentified.

They concluded that the mortally wounded Marine could not have intentionally reached for the grenade after suffering a serious head wound. Yet four other experts — Peralta's battalion surgeon, and two neurosurgeons and a neurologist who examined the autopsy reports — said Peralta could have knowingly reached for the grenade. They say the ricochet bullet was traveling at a "low velocity" and would not have immediately killed him.

Though disqualified from the Medal of Honor, the patriotic and astute and 10,000-mile and three year-distant “panel” didn’t have a problem with him receiving the Navy Cross… second only to the Medal…. for these actions:

The grenade came to rest near Sergeant Peralta's head. Without hesitation and with complete disregard for his own personal safety, Sergeant Peralta reached out and pulled the grenade to his body, absorbing the brunt of the blast and shielding fellow Marines only feet away. Sergeant Peralta succumbed to his wounds. By his undaunted courage, intrepid fighting spirit, and unwavering devotion to duty, Sergeant Peralta reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service.

Only in our despicable government could such idiocy rule the day… every day and in every way. Peralta’s family refused to accept the Navy Cross, and I do not blame them in the least.

The decision is “almost like somebody called me a liar,” said Marine Sergeant Nicholas Jones who was with Peralta that day and saw what happened as did several others who submitted sworn statements as to what they saw.

Nonetheless, Peralta’s actions have become part of Marine Corps lore, as drill sergeants and officer-candidate instructors repeat it to new Marines to this day.

     

The following is an account of Giunta’s MOH action.

Around midnight, 1st Platoon filed into the KOP, eyes bulging, drenched in sweat, river water and blood. They were hauling the belongings of Mohammad Tali, a high-value target. Specialist Sal Giunta had killed him.

The next day I climbed up to the KOP and found Specialist Giunta, a quiet Iowan lofted into a heroism he didn’t want. His officers were putting him up for a medal of honor. Giunta told me the story of that night, how they’d barely moved 300 yards before they were blasted. Giunta was fourth in the file when it happened, and he jumped into a ditch. He couldn’t figure out why they were getting hit from where Joshua Brennan and baby-faced Franklin Eckrode should have been leading up ahead. He knew it must be bad, but as he leapt up to check he got whacked with a bullet in his armored chest plate. It threw him down. They were taking fire from three sides. He grabbed some grenades: “I couldn’t throw as far as Sergeant Gallardo. We were looking like retards and I decided to run out in front of the grenades.” He found Eckrode with gunshot wounds. “He was down but moving and trying to fix his SAW” — a heavy machine gun — “so I just kept on running up the trail. It was cloudy. I was running and saw dudes. Plural.”

He couldn’t figure out who they were. Then he realized they were hauling Brennan off through the forest. “I started shooting,” he recalled. “I emptied that magazine. They dropped Brennan.” Giunta scrambled up to Brennan. He was a mess. His lower jaw was shot off. “He was still conscious. He was breathing. He was asking for morphine. I said, ‘You’ll get out and tell your hero stories,’ and he was like, ‘I will, I will.’ ”

They were still taking fire. No one was there to help. Hugo Mendoza, their platoon medic, was back in another ditch, calling: “I’m bleeding out. I’m dying.” Giunta saw Brennan’s eyes go back. His breathing was bad. Giunta got Brennan to squeeze his hand. A medic showed up out of the sky. They prepared Brennan to be hoisted to the medevac in a basket. Soon he would be dead.

As the medevacs flew out, Sergeant Sandifer had talked in air cover: Slasher, the AC-130. The pilot was a woman and, Sandifer later told me, “It was so reassuring for us to hear her voice.” She spotted guys hiding and asked if she was clear to engage. “ ‘You’re cleared hot,’ I told her. And we killed two people together.” But, at this point, the killings were no consolation to Sandifer.

As Giunta said, “The richest, most-trained army got beat by dudes in manjammies and A.K.’s.” His voice cracked. He was not just hurting, he was in a rage. And there was nothing for him to do with it but hold back his tears, and bark — at the Afghans for betraying them, at the Army for betraying them. He didn’t run to the front because he was a hero. He ran up to get to Brennan, his friend. “But they” — he meant the military — “just keep asking for more from us.” His contract would be up in 18 days but he had been stop-lossed and couldn’t go home. Brennan himself was supposed to have gotten out in September. He’d been planning to go back to Wisconsin where his dad lived, play his guitar and become a cop.

Sandifer was questioning why they were sticking it out in the Korengal when the people so clearly hated them. He was haunted by Mendoza’s voice calling to him: “I’m bleeding out. I’m dying.” He worried that the Korengal was going to push them off the deep end. In his imagination it had already happened. One day an Afghan visited their fire base, Sandifer told me. “I was staring at him, on the verge of picking up my weapon to shoot him,” he said. “I know right from wrong, but even if I did shoot him everyone at the fire base would have been O.K. We’re all to the point of ‘Lord of the Flies.’ ” And they still had 10 months to go in the Korengal.

Additional stories here, here and here.

Leo Thorsness learned of Medal of Honor through POW tapping code while in "Hanoi Hilton"

HUNTSVILLE, AL -- It was April 19, 1967, when then-U.S. Air Force Lt. Leo Thorsness and his wingman attempted to knock out a surface-to-air missile site in North Vietnam.

Flying an F-105 "Wild Weasel," Thorsness attacked and silenced one site with air-to-ground missiles and then used bombs to destroy a second surface-to-air missile site.

In a second attack, Thorsness' wingman was shot down and the two crewmembers bailed out. Thorsness was running low on fuel, but he returned to the site of the abandoned aircraft to defend his crew members against hostile MIG aircraft circling overhead, destroying one MIG that had taken aim on the parachuting crew.

Only 10 days later, Thorsness was shot down and imprisoned in the infamous "Hanoi Hilton" in North Vietnam.

"I had been in prison about two years and was using a secret tap code to communicate to other prisoners of war between cells," Thorsness remembers. "One day, I got a message through the wall saying: 'Lieutenant, did you know that you have been nominated for the Medal of Honor?'"

Thorsness, who retired as a colonel and now lives in Madison, spent six years as a prisoner of war before he was released. Almost seven years had passed by the time he received his Medal of Honor.

Thorsness has written a book, "Surviving Hell," recounting his six years in captivity. It started, he said, as a letter to his granddaughter, "but it got too long." Then a publisher picked it up, he said.

Full story here.

Thorsness was among a 24 Recipients attending the  Medal of  Honor Gala - "In the Company of Heroes" –in Huntsville. There he—as president of the Congressional Medal of Honor Society—presented the American Spirit Award to another veteran pilot, Capt. Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger.

A now retired US Airlines pilot who landed his powerless jet safely in the Hudson River said, "I am truly honored to be in this company of heroes."

The Society was giving Sullenberger the award Saturday night "for the actions he took and his ability to stay calm and correct," said retired Col. Don "Doc" Ballard, who received the Medal of Honor for his service in Vietnam.

"He did the right thing for the right reasons and didn't panic," Ballard said as he waited with the other recipients before a brief ceremony at Bridge Street Town Centre. "We are all put into crisis situations in our lives and we're judged by the actions we take, right or wrong."

To be recognized by the Congressional Medal of Honor Society was "almost beyond belief. I don't think what I have done rises to the threshold of what they have done," he said.

Sullenberger, an Air force Academy graduate, served as a fighter pilot flying F-4 Phantom IIs from 1975 to 1980. He advanced to flight leader, training officer, and attained the rank of captain, with experience in Europe, the Pacific, and at Nellis Air Force Base, as well as operating as Blue Force Mission Commander in Red Flag Exercises. While in the Air Force, he was a member of the official aircraft accident investigation board.

In total, he has more than 40 years and 27,000 hours of flying experience

Vietnam Hero Dolby’s passing leaves 87

   

David C. Dolby, who was awarded the Medal of Honor in the Vietnam War for a single-handed attack on enemy positions that saved the lives of fellow soldiers during a four-hour firefight, died Aug. 6 in Spirit Lake, Idaho. He was 64 and lived in Royersford, Pa.

The five-tour Vietnam, veterans died in his sleep while on a vacation, his brother, Dan, said.

Specialist Fourth Class Dolby was a machine-gunner with a platoon that came under fire on May 21, 1966, while advancing on a ridge in the Central Highlands

Six members of the platoon were killed instantly and others were wounded, including the platoon leader, who was dying but able to order Specialist Dolby to withdraw the soldiers still exposed.

Assisting the wounded and carrying one of the men to safety, Specialist Dolby fired until he ran out of ammunition, reloaded and killed three enemy machine-gunners while under intense attack. He crawled within 54 yards of enemy bunkers and tossed smoke grenades to mark them for air strikes and he also directed artillery fire.

Having been promoted to sergeant, he was awarded the Medal of Honor, the nation’s highest award for valor, by President Lyndon B. Johnson on Sept. 28, 1967. The citation noted his “actions of unsurpassed valor during four hours of intense combat.

Dolby relived that battle in the Highlands 36 years later when he was invited to take part in a ceremony in Essex Fells, N.J., to honor Lt. Robert H. Crum Jr., his platoon leader. “He died in my arms,”

Dolby told The Star-Ledger of Newark. “His last words were: ‘How are my men? Don’t leave any of my men.’

Dolby was subsequently promoted to sergeant and awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions during the battle. The medal was formally presented to him by President Lyndon B. Johnson on September 28, 1967.

In addition to the 1965–66 tour in which he earned the Medal of Honor, Dolby (who insisted on returning to combat repeatedly) was deployed four more times to Vietnam.

Below, Specialist Dolby meets former President and Gen. Ike Eisenhower not long after being awarded The Medal. 

In 1967 he served there with the 101st Airborne Division, in 1969 with the 75th Ranger Regiment, 173rd Airborne Brigade, in 1970 as an advisor to the Vietnamese Rangers, and in 1971 as an advisor to the Royal Cambodian Army.

Dolby returned to Vietnam in 1974 to bring his fiancée Xuan back to the United States; they married but had no children. After his wife's death in 1987, he lived quietly in southeastern Pennsylvania until he passed away Aug. 6.

His passing reducers the number of living Recipients of the Medal of Honor to 87.