Daily News from New York, New York • 4

UPl Medal of Honor winners are gathered aboard Intrepid yesterday for dedication of Hall of Honor. By DON SINGLETON Honor Society, are in. New York for their biennial convention, which will be crowned by an appearance by President Reagan and Jean MacArthur, the widow of Gen. Douglas MacArthur, tomorrow afternoon. Standing around the new Hall of Honor, they looked like any bunch of average men salesmen and mechanics and farmers guys you'd bump into in your local park or bowling alley.

If they didn have their medals around their necks on pale blue ribbons, you'd never guess they were special. But they were. Like Nicholas Oresko, for example. He's a smallish, 66-year-old man from Tenafly, N.J., who was bustling around shaking hands with old friends. A bureaucrat, you might guess he's a retired Veterans Administration employe.

"As a platoon leader near Tettington. Germany, on Jan. 23, 1945, Master Sgt. Oresko single-handedly knocked out two enemy bunkers that had pinned down his unit," the biography states. "He killed 12 Germans and though seriously wounded he refused to be evacuated until the mission was accomplished." Why did he do it? "Mostly it's just the will to live, the will to survive, I think," he said.

"When you jump into a hole and it's full of Germans, somebody has to start shooting first." Or like R. Mike Clausen a 35-year-old helicopter mechanic from Ponchatoula, who used a chopper to rescue 18 trapped and wounded Marines from a Vietnamese minefield on Jan. 31, 1970. "After the first one, it just all runs together in my mind," he said. DESPITE HIS YOUTH and the unpopularity of the war in which he served, Clausen remains just as much a patriot as any of the other Medal of Honor winners.

"In Vietnam, we just fought it wrong we should have fought to win," said the big ex Marine private first class he stands 6-foot-3, weighs 210 pounds and has hands as big as baseball gloves. "And in the Mideast this year, I was mad when they blew up those Marines if it had been up to me, I would have kicked ass over there after that. But I have confidence in Reagan, really, and I know he's doing the right thing." They rose to attention when the flag was posted, all 175 of them, some old now and leaning on canes, others still straight and strong, all of them undisputed national heroes together, they represented two thirds of America's 259 living Medal of Honor winners, and they were standing tall. They had gathered aboard the Intrepid Sea Air Space Museum yesterday morning for the official dedication of a new Hall of Honor, the nation's first permanent archive and museum dedicated to its 3,351 Medal of Honor recipients. AND WHEN MAYOR KOCH presented them with the key to the city, and called them "the classiest people in this country," and told them how he thinks patriotism is making a comeback in America, and how he believes we should protect our Marines in Lebanon, they applauded the way you knew they would.

The men. members of the Congressional Medal of Hero of war, man of peace By CHARLES W. BELL Religion Editor man for extraordinary bravery under fire during the battle for Okinawa. He was called "the unlikeliest hero" because, in obedience to the teaching of his church, he refused to carry a gun. Instead, he volunteered to become an infantry medical corpsman.

In one incident, featured in a 1957 special NBC television program based on his life. Doss single-handedly carried 75 wounded comrades through Japanese gun and grenade fire and lowered them one by one to safety down a cliff. THIS WAS NOT what Doss talked about at church yesterday. "I want to ask the Lord to tell me what to say." Doss said when he was introduced as a special guest. There were "amens" in the congregation, and Doss told a story about the time he spoke at Carnegie Hall, in 1946 during a Seventh day Adventist assembly.

He told of the special thrill he felt when he saw the Statue of Liberty. The church's pastor, Jack Love, said he heard two days ago that Doss would attend yesterday's service. "I wrote a sermon that 1 think fits the situation," Love said. "It's about the meaning of standing fast and serving others." Doss wore the medal yesterday, hanging from a blue ribbon around his neck. In one lapel, he wore tiny pins identifying him as a medal recipient and veteran of the Army's 77th Division.

Beneath those two pins, there was a third pin slightly larger and silver. It read, "God Loves You." Desmond T. Doss, the only conscientious objector ever awarded the Medal of Honor, was not with his fellow heroes aboard the Intrepid yesterday. He was in church. As a Seventhday Adventist, the pomp and ceremonies conflicted with his Sabbath.

And so. as 175 recipients of America's highest military honor attended various functions, Doss attended worship services at the Crossroads Church, on W. 45th near Times Square. The 64-year-old Doss, who lives in Rising Fawn. was awarded the medal in 1945 by President Harrv Tru PAT CARROLL DAILY NEWS Medal of Honor winner Desmond T.

Doss addresses congregation at Crossroads Church..