By RON NEWBERRY

Two fishing poles lean against a wall in Rose Cruz’s home.

The sturdy rods are rigged with salmon lures, all ready to cast into Puget Sound.

More than three weeks since her husband died while fishing for salmon, Cruz is still paralyzed by the sight of the poles, finding it difficult to move them.

“They are still there where he left them,” Cruz said. “They’re all ready to go fishing. All you have to do is cast them.”

Enrique “Rick” Cruz was a friend to many who fished along a skinny strip of beach in Coupeville.

Whidbey Island offers a lot of places to fish from shore, but Cruz found the stretch at Driftwood Park at the Keystone Spit to be his sanctuary.

Each year, from July to October, Rose Cruz knew where to find her husband.

From the excitement in his voice, she knew it was often hopeless to try to keep him home in Oak Harbor even on days when he wasn’t feeling his best.

Cruz remembers Aug. 20, the day her husband died, as being one of those days.

“I said, ‘Not today,’” Rose Cruz said. “He said, ‘Yeah, but it’s a beautiful day.’

“I said, ‘Yeah, but you’re not feeling well. Give it another day. Stay home.’”

Rick Cruz made his wife a promise that after landing six more salmon, he’d set the poles down and catch up on his rest.

It was a promise he was on his way to fulfilling until he suffered a heart attack that afternoon and died at the beach.

Rick Cruz was found lying on the ground next to a log where he had been sitting after catching his second salmon that day.

Weakened by a heart and lung condition and becoming more reliant on a cylinder of oxygen he kept in his car to help his breathing, Cruz had told his wife earlier in the year that he felt the end was near.

And, on more than one occasion, he had told the friends he fished with at Keystone that his favorite fishing spot was where he wanted to die.

“One of the last things Rick said on the shore was, ‘Danny, if I have to go, this is where I want to go, right here,’” said Danny Henn, a fishing partner from Coupeville, recalling a conversation he had with Cruz the week before he died.

“He loved it here.”

Rose Cruz knew that her husband enjoyed the camaraderie with fellow anglers he developed over the past decade almost as much as hooking into a salmon.

At 72, he was among a group affectionately called the “old-timers” and stood out for his kind heart, patience and eagerness to help new fishermen with tips he’d acquired over the years on how to set up their fishing rods.

His close friends at Keystone knew that his onshore mission was to catch salmon to fill coolers that he would take to his native Guam to share with family there.

Some also knew that he had served in the U.S. Army and spent time in Vietnam, followed by a career as a federal firefighter in Guam.

But none of his fishing buddies knew they were in the presence of a man whose heroism landed him one of the highest honors a person in military service can be awarded.

Cruz only revealed so much about himself, his wife said, describing her husband as very private, humble and proud.

It would take her stumbling upon a briefcase and studying the contents a couple years after their marriage in 2001 until she realized the extent of her husband’s military career.

Inside was a trove of medals, including two Purple Hearts and numerous certificates and newspaper articles. One particular commendation made her jaw drop.

Rose Cruz read that on Oct. 6, 1966, her husband, Staff Sgt. Enrique Cruz, was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross for extraordinary heroism. It is the second highest military decoration that can be awarded to a member of the Army, second only to the Medal of Honor.

Accompanying the medal and certificate was a detailed report describing Cruz’s actions that occurred June 30, 1966 during a search-and-destroy mission along a highway in the Republic of Vietnam.

Cruz was serving as the track commander in the last vehicle in a column movement along the highway when his unit began receiving hostile fire from a Viet Cong regiment, according to the report.

After noticing that the insurgents were closing in from the rear in an attempt to cut off the column, Cruz delivered suppressive fire for more than an hour, preventing a breach to the rear of the column, the report reads.

When a nearby tank was hit by hostile fire, killing the tank commander and injuring three crew members, Cruz rushed to the burning tank and pulled the three crewmen to the cover of his armed personnel carrier, administered first aid and took them to the evacuation area.

Although Cruz himself was wounded, he refused to be evacuated, the report continued. He resupplied his carrier with ammunition and returned to the front of the battle area to provide covering fire for the evacuation of the wounded, according to the report.

When his machine gun barrel melted due to “the intense rate of fire,” he secured another weapon from a disabled carrier and continued to provide cover, refusing to be evacuated after being injured a second time. After Viet Cong fire subsided, he maneuvered his vehicle to evacuate more of his wounded comrades, resupplied his track with ammunition, returned to the battle area and stayed until the engagement ended, the report read.

General William Westmoreland would later personally award Cruz for his bravery.

“He’s a very private person,” Rose Cruz said of her husband. “He never told me what he had done in Vietnam. Rick received the second highest award in the nation and that was something I thought he would share. I had to find it and read it. He’s a very humble person.”

Sam Loeum, who’s fished alongside Cruz for years, was unaware of Cruz’s commendations.

“He never mentioned that,’ Loeum said.

Cruz was full of surprises to his friends and his wife, who misses his child-like playfulness. She said he loved his family and loved to golf and fish. She teased him about owning 10 fishing poles, many of them rigged with different lures of various colors.

Rick Cruz didn’t like to waste time tying up hooks when the fish were jumping. He wanted to be prepared at the precise moment that fish were biting and passing through in large numbers.

“He’s carrying four poles with him, all the time, he’s ready to go,” Rose Cruz said. “I’m like, ‘You’re just one person. You’re only allowed one (set of) gear. Why have all this ready?’ He’s like, ‘You know. I try different colors and different techniques.’ I’m like, ‘Oh my lord, this guy.’”

Rick Cruz’s friends believe he died doing what he wanted to be doing and where he wanted to be. The weather on that afternoon was particularly beautiful in a setting not far from the Coupeville ferry that is scenic on virtually any day.

A fisherman spotted Cruz on the ground and started CPR. It was continued by Whidbey General Hospital paramedics who arrived, but the efforts were unable to bring Cruz back.

“He said this is where he wanted to die,” said Billy Brigham, a longtime friend and fishing partner.

Rose Cruz wished she could have said goodbye to her husband but takes solace in the place where he spent his final hours on earth.

She’s been surrounded by kindness since his death. Firefighters with Central Whidbey Fire & Rescue even cleaned Cruz’s fish and brought the salmon to Cruz’s home in Oak Harbor.

“It was something he loves to do,” she said. “That gives me a sense of peace.”