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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Rescued Marine Gets Opportunity To Honor Hero

Bekka Rauve Correspondent

Korea, 1952. The full moon spilled a dim gray light over the hillside. Mike Crnkovich and his buddy crouched in their foxhole, an outpost in front of the platoon’s main line.

Exhausted from a six-hour bombardment, the two Marines failed to see the enemy soldiers swarming on their bellies up the slope. Then one of the Chinese soldiers tossed two grenades on top of them.

“If they’d killed us with those grenades, they could have gone to the left and right and killed everyone,” said Crnkovich, now 67. “There were over 200 of us in the battalion - though by then, a lot fewer than 200 were alive.”

Crnkovich and his partner survived that Sept. 5 night through the valor of a 21-year-old Staten Island man whom they’d met only two days before. Edward Benfold was a Navy corpsman assigned to their regiment because of his medical training. He died in the course of the rescue.

On March 30, Crnkovich will be a guest of honor at a ceremony commissioning a ship bearing Benfold’s name. Crnkovich had a lot to do with Benfold’s recognition.

“In my estimation, anyone who survived that night owes their life to him,” said Crnkovich, who recommended Benfold for commendation the following morning.

“Benfold resolutely moved from position to position in the face of intense hostile fire …” said an account excerpted from Crnkovich’s report.

“He moved forward to an exposed ridge line where he observed two Marines in a large crater. As he approached, an enemy soldier threw two grenades into the crater. Picking up a grenade in each hand, Benfold leaped out of the crater and hurled himself against the onrushing hostile soldiers, pushing the grenades against their chests and killing both the attackers. He was mortally wounded in carrying out this heroic act …”

Until a year ago, Crnkovich didn’t learn whether Benfold was recognized for his bravery, though he often thought of the man.

“I knew his wife had just had a baby. I didn’t know if it was a boy or girl, but that always stuck in my mind,” he said.

Then, April 7 of last year, Crnkovich received a phone call. On the basis of his 1952 report, Benfold had been awarded the Medal of Honor some 44 years earlier. At that time, the medal was presented to the Navy man’s 2-1/2-month-old son and namesake. Now a 505-foot defense destroyer, the U.S.S. Benfold, was to be commissioned in Benfold’s honor.

“They’d christened the ship in November 1994 and had been looking for Mike all this time,” said Crnkovich’s wife, Helen, who recalls coming back from the post office to find her husband with his ear to the phone and his mouth open. The caller, an officer from the Pentagon, wanted Crnkovich to be a platform guest at the ship’s commissioning in San Diego the following March.> It was the first Helen had heard of the story.

“He told me what had happened and I sat there and cried,” she said. “These things happen to other people, not to the people who belong to you. Mike could have died.”

Crnkovich’s entire family plans to accompany him to the commissioning, scheduled to take place a week from today. As part of the ceremony, he’ll present the traditional Long Glass (spyglass) to the first officer of the deck. His son has been invited to sit with him on the stand.

Organizers have already sent Crnkovich a program, a ship newsletter, decals, even a baseball cap sporting the ship’s insignia.

Crnkovich said Benfold’s son, a New Jersey architect, has chosen to turn the Medal of Honor over to the ship.

“I’m anxious to see that ship,” he said softly.

, DataTimes MEMO: Bekka Rauve is a freelance writer who lives in the Silver Valley. Panhandle Pieces appears every Saturday. The column is shared among four North Idaho writers.

Bekka Rauve is a freelance writer who lives in the Silver Valley. Panhandle Pieces appears every Saturday. The column is shared among four North Idaho writers.