Posted on 04/29/2008 10:07:11 PM PDT by 2ndDivisionVet
It came to me while I was having dinner with Doris Day. No, not that Doris Day. The Doris Day who is married to Col. Bud Day, Congressional Medal of Honor recipient, fighter pilot, Vietnam POW and roommate of John McCain at the Hanoi Hilton.
As we ate near the Days' home in Florida recently, I heard things about Sen. McCain that were deeply moving and politically troubling. Moving because they told me things about him the American people need to know. And troubling because it is clear that Mr. McCain is one of the most private individuals to run for president in history.
When it comes to choosing a president, the American people want to know more about a candidate than policy positions. They want to know about character, the values ingrained in his heart. For Mr. McCain, that means they will want to know more about him personally than he has been willing to reveal.
Mr. Day relayed to me one of the stories Americans should hear. It involves what happened to him after escaping from a North Vietnamese prison during the war. When he was recaptured, a Vietnamese captor broke his arm and said, "I told you I would make you a cripple."
(Excerpt) Read more at online.wsj.com ...
.you don’t believe torture was involved?”
Shot down in his Skyhawk dive bomber on Oct. 26, 1967, Navy flier McCain was taken prisoner with fractures in his right leg and both arms.
For a guard, I was assigned a 16-year-old kid—right out of the rice fields. His favorite pastime was to sit by my bed and read a book that had a picture in it of an old man with a rifle in his hand sitting on a fuselage of an F-105 which had been shot down. He would point to himself, and slap me and hit me. He had a lot of fun that way. He fed me because both my arms were broken. He would come in with a cup that had noodles and some gristle in it, and fill a spoon and put it in my mouth. The gristle was very hard to chew. I'd get my mouth full after three or four spoonfuls, and I'd be chewing away on it. I couldn't take any more in my mouth, so he'd just eat the rest himself. I was getting about three or four spoonfuls of food twice a day. It got so that I kind of didn't give a damn—even though I tried as hard as I could to get enough to eat.>/p>
No, The issue of our lifetime is still the same one our fathers fought. The war against communism, otherwise known as socialism, also known as liberalism if one is a Democrat, and as globalism if one is a Republican.
The war with the ragheads is but a distraction, as if we do not defeat socialism, we will not have the moral backbone to win against anyone, nor will we be fighting from moral high ground, but merely assisting in American Empire.
To try and sell McCain as a war hero with heavenly choirs singing in the background is offensive to say the least. Heroes don't betray. Ever.
That concerns that one day.
What about all of the days until his release in '73?
DJ the base is not coming back as we know it. If we just sit back and let the dems have it, it will be their will. The world has changed in a great way.
Let me help
Sometime later, “The Bug” came rushing into the room, shouting, “Your father is a big admiral; now we take you to the hospital.”
I woke up a couple of times in the next three or four days. Plasma and blood were being put into me.
After about two weeks, I was given an operation on my leg which was filmed. They never did anything for my broken left arm. It healed by itself. They said I needed two operations on my leg, but because I had a “bad attitude” they wouldn’t give me another one. What kind of job they did on my leg, I do not know. Now that I’m back, an orthopedic surgeon is going to cut in and see. He has already told me that they made the incision wrong and cut all the ligaments on one side.
I was in the hospital about six weeks, then was taken to a camp in Hanoi that we called “The Plantation.” This was in late December, 1967. I was put in a cell with two other men, George Day and Norris Overly, both Air Force majors. I was on a stretcher, my leg was stiff and I was still in a chest cast that I kept for about two months. I was down to about 100 pounds from my normal weight of 155.
I was told later on by Major Day that they didn’t expect me to live a week. I was unable to sit up. I was sleeping about 18 hours, 20 hours a day. They had to do everything for me. They were allowed to get a bucket of water and wash me off occasionally. They fed me and took fine care of me, and I recovered very rapidly.
If the (Conservative) base doesn’t come back, this party is done, the left will get what they want, either with Hillobama or with McCain. I’m not going to help it along.
Nicely put.
He still can’t lift his arms or comb his hair.....Point?
That concerns that one day.
What about all of the days until his release in ‘73? “
Have you read first person accounts from other POW’s?
The whole thing is a mess. I agree. I’m taking the one to finish our work of the military.
He still can’t lift his arms or comb his hair.....Point?”
He broke both his arms in the crash.
Well thank goodness it wasn’t do to a lack of the treatment in Nam.
The reprisals took place all through the other camps. They started torturing us for our escape plans. The food got worse. The room inspections became very severe. You couldn’t have anything in your room—nothing. For example, they used to give us, once in a while, a little vial of iodine because many of us had boils. Now they wouldn’t let us have it because Dramesi and Atterberry had used iodine to darken their skin before they tried to escape, so they would look like Vietnamese.
My God! Such harsh treatment for an escape attempt.
“Now McCain, We will be inspecting your room with WHITE GLOVES!
Are you a POW from Nam?
“Well thank goodness it wasn’t do to a lack of the treatment in Nam.”
It wasn’t “Lack of treatment”, it was poor treatment.
Just like many poor people in this country get.
Are you a POW from Nam?”
Are you?
No I am not.
Then why ask me?
To answer your question, no.
The worst that happened to me was a chopper I was on got shot down and I got malaria.
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