A war hero who was once stationed in Bismarck is a Senate vote and a presidential signature away from the Medal of Honor, 40 years after his death.

Chief Master Sgt. Richard Etchberger of Hamburg was killed fighting off North Vietnamese special forces and saving the lives of his fellow radar men on March 11, 1968.

He was stationed at a secret radar base called Phou Pha Thi, or Lima Site 85, which was in neutral Laos.

Before leaving for this secret radar station, he was stationed at Bismarck's Air Force base three miles north of town with the 11th RBS Squadron in 1960.

In order for Etchberger and others to work there, he had to renounce his military status to become a "civilian" non-military worker in the neutral country.

Part of the reason it has taken four decades for Etchberger to potentially get the honor is the political ramification of acknowledging a U.S. presence where it wasn't supposed to be, said Rep. Earl Pomeroy, D-N.D.

"Much has changed now; it's not a state secret anymore," said Pomeroy, who has worked with Rep. Tim Holden, D-Pa., to get the measure as part of the 2009 defense authorization bill, which passed the House and is scheduled for Senate debate next week.

Pomeroy says the bill aims to bypass the standard two-year review period for the Medal of Honor. Pomeroy said the bill has a strong chance of passing.

"Extraordinary valor in the service needs to be recognized," said Pomeroy. "The Medal of Honor is warranted under compelling circumstance, which, in this case, it has in spades."

Etchberger was given a full-honors military burial, followed by a private Pentagon ceremony where he was given the Air Force Cross for valor, the second highest award next to the Medal of Honor.

But his children never knew why their seemingly ordinary father was given such honors and why he had streets and buildings at Air Force bases around the country named for him.

They weren't told about how Etchberger's base secretly pinpointed the locations of more than 500 North Vietnamese bombing targets.

They didn't know that following weeks of increased attacks on his Lima Site 85, more than 1,000 North Vietnamese troops surrounded their location and pummeled it with mortars and rockets.

Or how Etchberger and four of his men descended down the cliff and under an overhang and awaited rescue, only to be met by a dozen North Vietnamese commandos.

Ethberger's kids didn't know for most of their lives how their father was the only uninjured man remaining in his unit and how he protected the wounded from the enemy for nearly seven hours while awaiting rescue.

When the rescuers finally arrived, Etchberger jumped through gunfire and hoisted his remaining wounded friends, Stanley Sliz and John Daniel, into the sling of the chopper.

But when it was his turn, Etchberger bear-hugged the last remaining survivor while the two were reeled into the chopper.

As they reached the chopper and were hoisted aboard, armor-piercing enemy fire tore through the underside of the craft, hitting Etchberger. He eventually bled to death.

"It's just an amazing and compelling story," said Pomeroy. "It's almost like a movie - he's fighting off the enemy, loading up the wounded and when he finally gets on the ship on the way to safety, he's shot fatally."

But 37 years later, and after the declassification of events at Lima Site 85, the family and fellow officers of Etchberger think it's time to honor his death to the fullest extent.

"Medal of Honor heroes must not be bound by geographic boundaries," Pomeroy said. "Bottom line, heroism knows no bounds."

(Reach reporter Chris Rosacker at 250-8254 or chris.rosacker@bismarcktribune.com.)