Vivid memories of wounded soldiers crying out for help still haunt a hero.

Thousand Oaks resident Jim Miller did all he could to rescue those suffering boys begging for deliverance from a muddy grave in Vietnam and get them home. His brave actions more than 40 years ago were recently recognized when he was awarded a Bronze Star medal.

That one-and-a-half-inch star attached to a red, white and blue ribbon is the key that has opened the floodgates of memories Miller had suppressed for decades.

NEVER TOO LATE-Jim Miller says he appreciates being awarded the Bronze Star more today than he would have 42 years ago. He risked his life to save others during a ferocious Vietnam War battle on June 19, 1967. The Thousand Oaks resident voluntarily entered hostile fire to rescue wounded soldiers. The medal is awarded for "heroic or meritorious achievement." (Nancy Needham/Acorn Newspapers)

Miller was 19, living in the San Fernando Valley, studying pre-law at Valley College and working the assembly line at General Motors in Van Nuys.

"My life was good," he said.

In 1966 he was drafted into the army. The news was actually a relief, he said, since he knew the call was coming.

"I felt it was my duty. I had friends who avoided it, but I chose to go because I was raised to believe, and I still feel, this is the greatest country in the world and we're so blessed to live here," Miller said.

Miller compared who he was when he left to who he'd become after his tour in Vietnam.

"I went from being a 19-year old kid to a bitter man. I knew it was going to be bad, but I didn't know how bad," he said.

From May 1966 to January 1967 he was trained in Fort Riley, Kan. Alongside him was Bob Good, another California boy who would become a lifelong friend. From January 1967 to January 1968 the two served together with men who would become their "family" in the 2nd squadron of the 9th Infantry, 4th battalion, B company, 3rd platoon.

"We were deployed to Vietnam as a combat bunch-search and destroy. We were dropped off in the jungle in helicopters and then they'd come and pick us back up," Good said.

The helicopters lowered and slowed down but did not land. The troops had to jump out with their packs. The terrain was terrible, and the paths they traveled were often booby-trapped, Miller said.

"When we were deployed, we almost immediately started losing people. The worst part was the feeling that we were not going to make it home," he said.

Miller and Good, both army specialists, were in the 9th Infantry Riverine task force patrolling the Mekong Delta on June 19, 1967, when they heard a radio broadcast announcing Alpha Company was under attack. They could hear gunfire blasts and pitiful groans on the transmission.

"The captain said all his guys were being annihilated by a regiment of North Vietnamese, so we got as close as we could to the active battlefield," Good said.

When they arrived, the muddy rice paddies had turned into a bloody battlefield. They found a ferocious fight going on with air strikes, artillery, napalm and "guys dying all over the place," Good said.

During intense battle, some men become bolder while others have the opposite reaction, Miller said.

"It's a matter of survival- fight or flight. I wanted to do the best I could do under the circumstances," Miller said.

When night fell, Miller and Good listened as their brothers cried out to them. Those men had been wounded by a prepared enemy who'd built bunkers and seemed to be waiting for them. Miller suspects the North Vietnamese army had been forewarned of Alpha Company's approach.

"(Alpha Company) had been cut through to ribbons, and they needed help," Miller said.

The two men, along with two of their buddies, put their own lives at risk to save those still lying on the battlefield. The enemies' guns that had blown apart their brothers were still aimed in their direction.

They put grenades in their pockets, put down their guns because they "couldn't shoot and carry the bodies" and crawled on their bellies through the mud and blood, hoping to save lives, Miller said.

They found dead bodies- some of them men they'd known-but they also came upon some with life. Together, using ponchos as stretchers, they crawled back with one wounded man at a time.

Miller recalled a good friend who "had half his head blown away" begging for relief from the pain as they pulled him out.

"Somehow he survived," Miller said.

The wounded were given to other soldiers who put them on inflated air mattresses that were floated down a water-filled ditch to helicopters. Seven helicopters that day were blown out of the sky. More chopper pilots came. Some made it out.

The men continued through the night until they were beyond complete physical exhaustion and could do no more, Good said.

Miller wanted to keep up the rescue, but his willing spirit could not overcome his physical limitations.

"I remember the screams for help. I learned that you can't save everybody. Just do what you can do. You can't save them all," he said.

He clenched his fists as he recalled those he could not rescue.

On June 20, they found the enemy had left their position. The American soldiers still alive went to work "bagging up the dead bodies and sending them home," Miller said.

Fifty young men died that day.

When Miller and Good arrived home in January 1968, they were met at the airport by protesters calling them "baby killers." As he walked past the protesters, Miller said he recalled those who had fought and died- his brothers who had given their lives to serve their country.

"People hated us. We were just doing our job," Miller said.

He became bitter after losing so many people close to him, he said. If he'd been given the Bronze Star at that time, as Good was, he would not have appreciated it, Miller said.

Miller and Good continued to protect their fellow men as they served as officers in the Los Angeles Police Department for 30 years before they retired.

Since coming back from war, Miller buried his bad memories deep inside himself. He didn't talk about the horror or his valor even to his family. But Good would not let his friend be forgotten. He went to U.S. Rep. Howard "Buck" McKeon (RSanta Clarita), and together they made sure Miller got his medal.

On Feb. 17 the medal was awarded to him.

As he holds the Bronze Star and memories come back to him, Miller is no longer bitter. He recently recalled how glad his parents were to have him come home.

"My dad said the day I came home was the best day of his life," Miller said.

Thanks to Miller's selfless acts of heroism, other parents of soldiers were able to feel the same way when their sons returned.