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Coast Guard Hero Honored for Daring Rescue : Award: Airman swam in near-freezing, 40-foot seas for almost an hour as he helped four fishermen be lifted to safety.

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TIMES STAFF WRITER

The highest peacetime medal for Coast Guard enlisted personnel was bestowed Thursday on a San Diego Coast Guard airman for his part in the harrowing rescue of four victims of a fishing ship wreck 150 miles off the coast of Kodiak, Alaska.

The Distinguished Flying Cross went to Petty Officer 3rd Class Gary L. Strebe, the rescue swimmer of the Coast Guard response team in the May 9, 1991, accident.

Strebe, 23, a native of Banning, dangled from a pitching helicopter as it was blown by 50-knot winds, then swam in near-freezing, 40-foot seas for almost an hour as he towed the floundering fishermen to a basket that lifted them to safety.

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Strebe had been stationed at the Kodiak Coast Guard Air Station for two years before transferring to San Diego in January.

Strebe accepted the medal from Rear Adm. M. E. Gilbert, commander of the 11th Coast Guard District, during a ceremony Thursday at the San Diego Coast Guard Air Station.

“His courage, judgment and devotion . . . are in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Coast Guard,” Gilbert said.

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After the ceremony, Strebe said the award was the fifth garnered by the five-person crew of the helicopter rescue team. Included in the kudos has been an award by the Naval Helicopter Assn. for National Search and Rescue Crew of the Year. The NHA recognized Navy, Marine Corps and Coast Guard missions, including those made during the Persian Gulf War.

More than a year has passed since the rescue, and Strebe, a self-effacing hero, said he would be content if the attention subsided.

“I get a lot of kidding,” Strebe said. “Some of the guys will fall on their knees and say, ‘We’re not worthy, we’re not worthy.’ ”

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Beyond the joshing, those around Strebe know what weight the Flying Cross carries, said Sean O’Shaughnessy, a petty officer administrator.

“It is something unique,” O’Shaughnessy said. “A lot of us have never seen an award that high.”

While relaxing in his quarters, Strebe rolled his eyes when asked to recount the night when he was “just doing his job,” and becoming a hero while doing it.

Just after midnight May 9, 1991, the crew answered a distress call coming over the radio: “The stern is under, pilot house is filling with water,” came the MAYDAY call from the DORA H’s skipper, Mark Worley.

It wasn’t clear what caused the ship to ride wrong, perhaps the load was too heavy, the ocean too rough, or the hull had been pulled apart.

What was all too clear: “We’re going down,” the voice on the radio said.

Strebe’s helicopter set out under a thick cloud cover, heavy fog and showers that shifted from rain to sleet.

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But, as Strebe donned his gear--his 5-millimeter-thick dry suit, hood, fins, mask, life vest and harness--his mind focused on procedures learned during rescue drills, rather than waves or weather.

“It wasn’t really thinking,” Strebe said. “Your mind clicks into the training, and you are thinking about what rescue stage you are at and what stages are ahead.”

The four-story tall swells were something no training drill prepared Strebe for, he said. Making matters worse, Strebe lost his mask and snorkel when the cable that lowered him into the ocean snapped him in the face, and knocked the headgear off.

Strebe was hampered by the wind and sea as he dragged victims into position to be hoisted into the helicopter. “The wind was knocking the helicopter around, the sea was knocking me around. . . . They weren’t the best conditions,” Strebe said.

The survivors, though, described it more dramatically, saying the rescue took Strebe to hell and back.

With his face exposed, Strebe gulped several mouthfuls of seawater, causing him to throw up repeatedly. And, after 55 minutes in water 3 degrees shy of ice, he began to feel the effects of hypothermia.

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Only once, Strebe recalled, did he panic. As he was suspended on the heaving watery plane, and he watched the ascent of the rescue basket carrying one of the victims, Strebe lost his bearings.

“I went into a slight bit of panic,” Strebe said. “I lost sight of the helicopter and the raft. I was just spinning around in the water, surrounded by these huge black walls.”

In his humble style, Strebe said the rescue was no more than what any of his peers would have done.

“I wasn’t picked, and I didn’t volunteer,” Strebe said. “I just happened to be the lucky guy who had duty that night. Any of these guys who are rescue swimmers would have done the same thing.”

Enlisted since 1988, Strebe earlier groomed his lifesaving technique as a guard at a public swimming pool in Banning.

He will be honored again for the Kodiak rescue when he attends a Department of Transportation ceremony in Washington in October.

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