Tibor “Ted” Rubin was born in Hungary in 1929. He was one of six children. At age 13, his parents, Ferenc and Rosa Rubin, attempted to get him to safety in Switzerland as the NAZIs were rounding up Jews in his town, but he was discovered with a party of Polish Jews near the border of Italy not far from freedom. He was sent off to Mauthausen concentration camp in Austria, where he would later locate his brother Emery.

Though he survived the concentration camp, his experience, like all, was brutal. He suffered starvation almost to the point of death, and the German guards were particularly tough on the children. He recalled: “In Mauthausen, they told us right away, ‘You Jews, none of you will ever make it out of here alive. Every day, so many people were killed. Bodies piled up, God knows how high. We had nothing to look forward to but dying. It was a most terrible thing, like a horror movie.”

After enduring 14 months at Mauthausenlater, on May 5, 1945, his camp was liberated by Americans. Of that day he says: “The American Soldiers had great compassion for us. Even though we were filthy, we stunk and had diseases, they picked us up and brought us back to life. I made a promise that I would go to the United States and join the Army to express my thanks.”

His parents had been murdered at Auschwitz, but his sister Edith had been freed from that death camp in exchange for medical supplies from Sweden.

Rubin and Emery reunited with their sister Irene in their hometown of Pásztó, and the three would later find some assistance in Pocking, Germany, at a displaced persons camp. His dream was to go to America, and in 1948, at age 19, he was able to immigrate to New York. His brother Emery and sisters Irene and Edith would follow, and another brother, Miklos, who had escaped a forced labor camp and joined the Czech resistance, also made it to America several years after the first three siblings.

“I thank God that I came to the United States,” he says.

In gratitude for his liberation — for his life — Rubin kept a promise he made to himself to become a “GI Joe” like those who had saved him. Initially, however, he failed the English exam. A year later, after working on his language skills, and as he would note later, with a “little help” from others taking the test, he cleared that hurdle and enlisted in the U.S. Army.

In late 1949, he was shipped to the 29th Infantry Regiment in Okinawa, where he remained briefly until the Korean War commenced. He was summoned by his company commander, who advised him: “The 29th Infantry Regiment is mobilizing. You are not a U.S. citizen, so we can’t take you — a lot of us are going to get killed. We’ll send you to Japan or Germany.” But Rubin declined. “ I could not just leave my unit for some 'safe zone,’” Rubin said. “I was with these guys in basic training. Even though I wasn’t a citizen yet, America was my country.”

He deployed on February 13, 1950, with I Company, 3rd Battalion, 8th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Cavalry Division, to the frontlines in the Korean War. His Company Sergeant, who some in his unit described as a “vicious anti-Semite,” sent Rubin on very dangerous missions. In one case, Rubin defended a hilltop against repeated enemy assault, demonstrating heroic actions, which led to his recommendation for a Medal of Honor. But his Sergeant refused to advance the commendation.

By October 1950, Rubin’s unit had suffered many casualties, and he had been wounded several times. At one point, he and others were taken prisoner by the Chinese, but Rubin had learned years earlier how to survive and endure the hardship. In an oral history, he explained that he understood his survival was “mind over matter” and encouraged his fellow POWs to that end.

The other POWs said he would sometimes sneak through the fence at night, steal food from an enemy supply station, and bring it back to his fellow soldiers. POW SGT Leo Cormier says of Rubin, “He saved my life when I could have laid in a ditch and died — I was nothing but flesh and bones.”

Notably, since Hungary had been overrun by communists after World War II, his communist North Korean captors offered to return him to Hungary, but Rubin dutifully refused. In April 1953, after almost 30 months as POWs, Rubin and the other Americans were released ahead of the Armistice.

After returning to America, Tibor Rubin became a U.S. citizen. He says, “I always wanted to become a citizen of the United States, and when I became a citizen, it was one of the happiest days in my life. I think about the United States, and I am a lucky person to live here. When I came to America, it was the first time I was free. … I joined the U.S. Army because I wanted to show my appreciation.”

He worked for his brother in California and would marry Yvonne a decade later, and they had two children, Frank (now an Air Force Veteran) and Rosalyn, who would become a school teacher.

The POWs with whom he served nominated him four times for the Medal of Honor in the years that followed, but those recommendations did not gain traction. However, those who had served with him were determined to ensure that his service during the Korean War and as a POW was appropriately recognized.

In 2002, the National Defense Authorization Act called for a review of Hispanic and Jewish combat Veterans from World War II through Vietnam to determine if any met the criteria for Medals of Honor.

Three years later, Rubin received a call from the White House, and on September 25, 2005, President George W. Bush presented Tibor Rubin, then 76, with his long-overdue Medal of Honor. While most Medals of Honor, like all medals for Valor, are awarded for a single act, Rubin’s citation notes his actions over the course of his time in Korea.

His lengthy Medal of Honor citation concludes: “His brave, selfless efforts were directly attributed to saving the lives of as many as 40 of his fellow prisoners. Corporal Rubin’s gallant actions in close contact with the enemy and unyielding courage and bravery while a prisoner of war are in the highest traditions of military service and reflect great credit upon himself and the United States Army.”

Typical of the humility displayed by recipients, Rubin said: “The real heroes are those who never came home. I was just lucky. This Medal of Honor belongs to all prisoners of war, to all the heroes who died fighting in those wars.”

Rubin, a proud American, died on December 5, 2015, at the age of 86.

CPL Tibor Rubin: Your example of valor — a humble American Patriot defending Liberty for all above and beyond the call of duty, and in disregard for the peril to your own life — is eternal.

“Greater love has no one than this, to lay down one’s life for his friends.” (John 15:13)

Live your life worthy of his sacrifice.

(Read more Profiles of Valor here.)

Semper Vigilans Fortis Paratus et Fidelis
Pro Deo et Libertate — 1776

Follow Mark Alexander on X/Twitter.

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