Nineteen-year-old Tony Colvard stepped into thick jungle and locked eyes with a North Vietnamese soldier. The other three men in his squad were 100 feet behind when the enemy charged with an AK-47, the bayonet fixed.
Colvard's rifle shot dropped the man. Colvard hit the ground, too, rolling behind a couple of rocks for a foot or two of cover. The other enemy troops were to his right, shooting and launching grenades from behind trees and downed logs.
"Colvard was firing at them from his exposed position rather than retreating," said his squad leader and platoon sergeant William Milburn.
"Although rounds were kicking dirt up all around him, Colvard stood his ground."
He exhausted several magazines, containers with 20 to 30 bullets apiece, and threw two or three of his own grenades before his fellow soldiers could get there to fire into the tree line. The entire enemy squad was killed or wounded.
The whole thing took no more than two minutes.
In those two minutes, Milburn said, Colvard's response saved the American squad from certain death.
The reconnaissance soldiers, who didn't wear helmets or flack jackets, would have undoubtedly walked into the North Vietnamese ambush.
Getting the reward Milburn believed Colvard deserved took far longer than the firefight or even the war that put the men in that North Vietnamese jungle.
Colvard accepted the Silver Star from Congressman Patrick McHenry on Wednesday.
The ceremony took less than an hour. Afterward, friends, family and goodwill wishers stood in line for almost that long waiting to hug Colvard or shake his hand.
A former Hudson Police chief, Caldwell County Commissioner and assistant fire chief, he didn't know until 2006 he was ever considered for the honor, the second highest that can be awarded to a combat soldier.
Milburn said he did propose it on that day in November, but the day after Colvard's actions saved his squad, the Hudson soldier was shot in the chin and chest in a firefight that would kill or injure half of his reconnaissance platoon. A Medivac helicopter, under fire with Colvard dangling from the door at takeoff, flew him out of Vietnam. Milburn's tour of duty ended three days later. He wasn't sure Colvard survived.
The two met again at a 2007 reunion, where the group voted to pursue Milburn's recommendation, to try to get Colvard his Silver Star.
It was hardly that easy. They started with McHenry's office, where staffers helped them submit information to the Army Board of Decorations, then more information and then more. The Army needed reports that detailed the action, radio logs, operational maps, affidavits from witnesses and long lists of other evidence.
In August, Colvard got the call. He had his Silver Star.
He insists there is more to his story.
"All of the men of recon deserve recognition," he said during Wednesday's ceremony. "Firefights occurred quickly and savagely, and they fought bravely."
The very morning Colvard's courage earned him the recognition, a fellow soldier named Dan Frisch spotted an explosive that would have killed them both.
Another man who was there that day, Dewayne Runions, walks around today with grenade shrapnel in his lung.
But Runions counts himself among the lucky. He couldn't make it to Lenoir on Wednesday but he sent a letter with Milburn.
"As I sit and think about my life, I can't help but wonder how it would be if not for the extraordinary heroism of Spc. Colvard," he wrote. "The first thing that comes to mind is that I should be dead, but instead I have two sons and three wonderful grandchildren who call me paw paw."
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