It's a wonder that a man could show valor for a country that relegated him to a segregated Army unit, and would wait decades to decorate him with a congressional medal because of his color.

But Vernon Baker was a soldier of tough making, and other servicemen who knew him say that recognition and fame were never his objectives when he blazoned rare heroics in World War II.

"People like him are willing to lay down their lives to protect the guy standing next to him," said Dusty Rhoads, adjutant for the American Legion Post 14. "It's just a brotherhood most people aren't aware of, and that doesn't go away."

Idaho veterans lost a brother on Tuesday, when Baker, the only living African American to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor, died at 90 in his St. Maries home after a long battle with a brain tumor.

"Vern was an outstanding leader," Rhoads said. "Him and the others in that outfit, that platoon, were outstanding soldiers."

Yet recognition was a long time coming.

It wasn't until 1997 that Baker was given the Congressional Medal of Honor by then-President Bill Clinton - 52 years after his service in Italy that earned him the honor - when the U.S. government deemed there had been racial disparity in how Medal of Honor recipients were selected.

Of the seven black soldiers chosen to receive it, Baker was the only living recipient.

"There were a bunch of others (black soldiers) who had been given way lesser medals, where had they been white soldiers they'd have been given Medals of Honor long before," Rhoads said. "I don't know why society is that way."

Regardless, Baker's patriotism was unshakeable.

Originally from Cheyenne, Wyo., Baker was a member of the buffalo soldiers in World War II, or all-black units commanded by southern whites.

After completing basic training at Camp Wolters in Texas in 1941, he was transferred to various forts and was quickly promoted because of his ability to read and write.

Baker was transferred to Italy in 1944 as part of the 370th Combat Team, attached to the 92nd Infantry Division, assigned to pushing Germans out of the northernmost part of Italy.

He would be eventually be decorated for his actions on April 5, 1945, during the battle for Castle Aghinolfi, a German mountain strong point.

The 25-year-old 2nd lieutenant and about 25 men found themselves behind enemy lines that day.

Recognizing an observation post hidden at the edge of a hill, Baker crawled up and stuck his M-1 into the slit and emptied the clip, killing the post's two occupants.

He also shot and killed two enemy soldiers he stumbled upon in a camouflaged machine gun nest. He then killed an enemy soldier who lobbed a grenade at the group that failed to explode.

Going into the draw alone, he killed three more German soldiers as he blasted open the concealed entrance with a grenade and then entered firing his machine gun.

After enemy fire killed and wounded most of the soldiers, Baker led two withdrawals of the wounded. With the help of his men on the second withdrawal, he destroyed two machine gun positions with hand grenades.

The next night, he voluntarily led a battalion advance through enemy mine fields and heavy fire toward the castle.

In all, Baker had accounted for nine dead enemy soldiers, elimination of three machine gun positions, an observation post and a dugout.

Although no black soldiers were awarded the Medal of Honor during World War II, Baker did receive the Purple Heart, a Bronze Star and Distinguished Service Cross.

Baker was truly humble about his past, said Cliff Drake, Idaho Army National Guard staff sergeant, who befriended Baker when the National Guard rallied to keep up Baker's home when the family fell on hard times.

"He was the first to say on every occasion that he was no different than anyone else on the battlefield. He was simply doing his job to help protect his men and fellow officers in arms," Drake said. "He always thought he never did anything special, other than his job."

Drake couldn't explain why Baker had served his country so well in an era when the U.S. didn't lend much support for African Americans.

It was just the sign of a good soldier, he said.

"Once you go through basic training and start creating those bonds with your fellow soldiers, race or creed is not an issue," Drake said. "It's serving beside your brother or sister, and that's how he saw it."

North Idaho veterans looked at Baker as an icon, said First Sgt. Ray Katus with the Idaho National Guard, whose company had honored Baker at a formal dinner.

"He was a true warrior," Katus said. "He stood for what we try to achieve."

Katus said it was hard to believe that Baker, a mild-mannered and mellow man, was behind the combat victories that won him national fame.

"I think you get to a certain point (in battle) that instincts just take over and you do what you have to do and not think about it until after it's done," he said.

After Japan surrendered in 1945 and Baker was sent back to the U.S., he remained in the military, according to a profile of Baker by the Idaho Military Historical Society. His service took him across the country, and also to Korea and Germany.

Baker retired in 1968 after 27 years of service, and eventually moved to St. Maries in 1987.

He painted the glories and horror of his battlefield days in his book "Lasting Valor" published in 1997.

Fellow veteran Bob Banta, who got to know Baker through VFW Post 889, said Baker didn't talk much about his time in the service.

"Most of them guys (who are decorated) are that way. They don't think they did anything. They just did their job," Banta said. "I'm sure he did feel that way."

Baker always showed a strong sense of patriotism, Banta added.

"I heard him say a long time ago down in St. Maries when we had a fundraiser for his brain tumor operation, he said if somebody called him an African American, he'd punch him in the nose," Baker remembered. "'I don't know a damn thing about Africa. I'm an American.' I thought that was pretty good."

Bud Oakland, who served in the Navy in World War II and became friends with Baker this past year, said few experienced glory like Baker's on the battlefield.

"That takes a very unusual man," Oakland said.

Oakland was amazed by Baker's attitude about the prejudice he faced during the war, as well as the belated medal.

"I just can't hardly believe that he could possibly even smile today and visit with you, you think he'd be so damn angry. But he wasn't, he never was," Oakland said. "That's a gentleman."

Drake said the loss of Baker will be felt by many veterans.

"I think it's important for us to hear his story and hear the story of others who sacrificed so much and wanted so little in return," he said. "I think as far as he was an American and a patriot, he's one that should be admired and emulated by all."