I hear them calling in the night
When my world is calm and quiet.
They speak to me in words I would not hear,
Yet their voices won't be silenced.
They beseech me with whispers.
Asking, 'why were we left?
They cannot understand.
The wind carries their questions.
The stars shine down as tears.
The moon becomes their faces.
And I have no answer worth speaking.
(c)1998 - Dennis Johnson
There are over 2000 American heroes, dead and alive, who haven't been brought home yet !
Since the war ended, over 10,000 reports received relating to Americans still unaccounted for in Indochina have convinced experts that hundreds of men are still alive, waiting for their country to rescue them. The notion that Americans are dying without hope in the hands of a long-ago enemy belies the idea that we left Vietnam with honor. It also signals that tens of thousands of lost lives were a frivolous waste of our best men.
I have many friends who served in Vietnam.Many that died there, many that died after they came home from Agent Orange.
I want to thank you ALL that served in Vietnam and ALL the Wars.
I pray each day for our POW’s and MIA’s that they will be brought home.
Thank you my Heroes for serving our land and for my Freedom, I owe you a GREAT debt.
THANK YOU Veterans from ALL our Wars !!!! You are my Warrior Heroes one and all !
Morning, friend. Thanks for posting this.
Origin Of The POW/MIA Flag
In 1971, Mrs.Mary Hoff, an MIA wife and member of the National League of American Prisoners and Missing in Southeast Asia, recognized the need for a symbol of our POW/MIAs. Prompted by an article in the Jacksonville, Florida TIMES-UNION, Mrs. Hoff contacted Norman Rivkees, Vice-President of Annin & Company which had made a banner for the newest member of the United Nations, the People's Republic of China, as a part of their policy to provide flags to all UN member nations.
Mrs. Hoff found Mr. Rivkees very sympathetic to the POW/MIA issue, and he, along with Annin's advertising agency, designed a flag to represent our missing men. Following League approval, the flags were manufactured for distribution.
The flag is black, bearing in the center, in black and white, the emblem of the League.
The emblem is a white disk bearing in black silhouette the bust of a man, watch tower with a guard holding a rifle, and a strand of barbed wire.
Above the disk are the white letters POW and MIA framing a white 5-pointed star.
Below the disk is a black and white wreath, above the white motto,
YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN
Concerned groups and individuals have altered the original POW/MIA Flag many times, the colors have been switched from black with white - to red, white and blue, to white with black.
The POW/MIA has at times been revised to MIA/POW.
Such changes, however, are insignificant. The importance lies in the continued visibility of the symbol, a constant reminder of the plight of America's POW/MIA'S.
On March 9,1989, a POW/MIA Flag, which flew over the White House on the 1988 National POW/MIA Recognition Day, was installed in the United States Capitol Rotunda as a result of legislation passed overwhelmingly during the 100th session of Congress.
The leadership of both Houses hosted the installation ceremony in a demonstration of bipartisan congressional support. This POW/MIA Flag, the only flag displayed in the United States Capitol Rotunda, stands as a powerful symbol of our national commitment to our POW/MIAs until the fullest possible accounting for Americans still missing in Southeast Asia has been achieved.
KHE SANH 1968 Tet
As my youth was spent in a war, as a Marine, I found myself in a place called, "Khe Sanh." With every dawn, came in the fog, and the smell of dealth,
No news from home today, does the world care? (no), as I looked into the eyes, of many, I learned the meaning of the "Thousand Yard Stare." Also called the endless "glare."
Everyday, lives thrown away, where the prevailing thought was, 'just to survive another day, 'waiting for death's arrival.
An endless walk through "Hells Kitchen, " day by day as death rained down. Where our spirits were shocked into reality, every time we saw life leave a man's face, to come home to be disgraced, as a lamb to the slaughter.
I found myself at the WALL, They're for all the world to see, asking myself, "Why them and not me?"
The names reminded me of how life was at hand, to die in a foreign land, Where life was given, and suddenly taken away, and this is where I learned to pray,
I realized that there are many among us, who refuse to see, that freedom has a price, with lives thrown away, like the throw if the dice,
Through it all, they stood tall, where the true hero is measured, didn't come home at all, and ended up on the WALL,
At times we felt so far away, trying to survive another day, for out of our hearts we cried, Oh, America have you forgotten?
For who prays for peace more, than the one who fights the war. To come home and be swallowed up in the streets, and trying to make ends meet,
As I looked upon the WALL, I remembered what one great General once said, " Old soldiers never die, they just fade away."
Written by Jerome B. Howell
L/CPL 3rd Shore Party BN. 3rd Mar Div, "A" Co.
(Khe Sanh: February 1968 to two weeks before the base was abandoned.)
What a beautiful post. There is a movie called Hanoi Hilton which should be viewed. Unfortunately, McCain is getting all the press now, taking away the valience of true heroes.
Till They All Come Home"
"Till they all come home
"Till their fates are known
"Till their spirits are set free
We must keep the faith together
Now it's up to you and me.
There are those among the Missing,
and the Unaccounted For,
Captured in that foreign land, still Prisoners of War,<
And I hear their voices calling out, crying to be free,
Saying, "Please dear God, send someone who will come to rescue me."
Well, some people say it's over now and we should let it go,
There is nothing more that can be done, say those people "in the know."
But I hear those voices calling out, crying to be free,
Saying, "Please dear God, send someone who will come to search for me."
So many years have come and gone, it happened long ago,
But we must keep on and do what's right, until we really know.
For I hear those voices calling out, crying to be free,
Saying, "Please dear God, send someone who will come to rescue me."
For the families who are waiting still, the years pass slowly by.
They need answers to their question, "Did my loved one live or die?"
For they hear those voices calling out, crying to be free.
Saying, "Please dear God, send someone who will come to search for me."
If our Missing Men could speak to us, what would they really say,
Of those who search and those who wait, and those with "games" to play.
For their voices have been calling out, crying to be free,
"I've been waiting all these years for you to come to rescue me."
'Till they all come home,
'Till their fates are known,
'Till their spirits are set free,
We must keep the faith together,
Now it's up to you and me.
'Till they all come home,
'Till their fates are known,
'Till their spirits are set free,
We must keep the faith together now,
Not forget our sacred vow
That we won't give up until we know,
or 'till they all come home...'till they all come home.
Copyright © 1996 by Judee Strott,
Come For Me
Twenty years in the jungle has taken it's toll on me.
I'm not the same man I used to be.
But one thing's consistent ... I long to be free.
Please, Mr. President, come for me.
The scars of my torture will never go away.
I'm fifty pounds lighter. My hair is gray.
But the shackles can't chain the freedom in me.
Please, ("mighty") lawmakers come for me.
If my family believed there's a chance I'd survived,
They'd fight to their deaths to prove I'm alive.
Please, lovin' family, come for me.
Some captors say you don't know I'm here,
That I'm doomed to this prison year after year.
God Bless America, the land of the free.
Please, friends and parishioners, come for me.
Other captors say you know that I'm here,
But refuse to accept the evidence, so clear.
Will some caring citizen hear my plea?
Please, fellow countrymen, come for me.
I'll have faith in my country 'till my dying day.
I'll never believe you could leave me this way.
My Country, 'tis of thee .....
Please, please, America, come for me!
LeAnn Thieman 1987
