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 JOINT
BASE CHARLESTON, S.C. (AFNS) -- Forty years have passed since the
United States ended its involvement in the Vietnam War, and 40 years
have passed since many of its sons who engaged in the war and were
captured by the enemy, were liberated and returned home.
One
of those liberated prisoners was retired Col. Will Gideon (photo
left), former 437th Airlift Wing Supply Squadron commander, who was
a pilot with the 67th Tactical Fighter Squadron the day he was shot
down and captured by the North Vietnamese August 7, 1966.
Gideon, a native of Arlington, Va., flew 54 successful missions into
Vietnam before being shot down.
"We came into the mountains low that
day," said Gideon, in regards to the aircraft formation. "After I
released my bombs, I rolled the jet to its side and popped back up.
It started like any other mission ... only, I had no idea it would
be my last (mission as a pilot.)"
From within the cockpit of
his jet, Gideon witnessed a fiery explosion in the atmosphere
igniting from another F-105 directly in front of him. The aircraft's
pilot safely ejected, but was captured by the deceptive enemy below.
In a flash, black smoke filled the red sky and cloaked Gideon's
sight, blinding him nearly instantly. Bullets cut through the air,
whizzing as they buzzed all around. Gideon remained calm, but could
only hear the sound of his heart beating and ground fire that was
coming from North Vietnamese soldiers, hidden within the foliage of
the jungle below.
"I tried like hell to get out of there,"
said Gideon. "This is when everything started happening really
fast."
And, going fast was on Gideon's side. He was piloting
an F-105, the Air Force's premiere jet fighter at the time, and it
was able to reach supersonic speeds quickly. However, his distance
to the ground was against him.
According to Gideon, he knew
he was in trouble when he felt a jarring explosion, as well as the
ratatatat of bullets bouncing off his jet. Before he could evade the
enemy attack, the aircraft began shaking and spiraling downward
uncontrollably.
"It was like someone grabbed the tail end of
the plane and wouldn't let go," said Gideon. "The jet was spinning
out of control. It was all happening so fast, but I remember
starting to see everything go grey and feeling numb."
Accepting his fate, Gideon knew his plane was destined to crash into
the Vietnamese mountainside. With every passing moment, more control
was slipping through his fingers. Knowing he was also about to pass
out, Gideon was losing control of more than his jet, but also
himself.
"My life wasn't flashing before my eyes," said
Gideon. "My training was. I knew what I had to do to survive ...
death wasn't an option that day."
Through the disarray of
being shot out of the sky, he thought back to his pilot training at
Nellis AFB, Nev., and managed to eject. From there, everything went
blank.
Gideon awoke in darkness, unclear of the amount of
time that had passed or where he was. He was nowhere near the crash
site. He was stripped of his clothes, in pain and locked inside a
small, humid jail cell. The only light piercing the eroded room was
coming from a barred window.
"I was out for nearly a week,"
said Gideon. "When I finally woke up, my left leg was in a cast
below the knee. I can't recall exactly when it was broken. My
shoulder and head were swollen and I could barely move."
Due
to his memory loss, Gideon wasn't sure how or when he had incurred
his injuries. However, it was common for American POW pilots to
enter a detention camps hurt due to injuries sustained while
ejecting from their aircraft.
A total of 13 facilities in
North Vietnam were used as detention camps for American POWs; five
camps were located in Hanoi and the rest were outside of the city.
With the exception of the H?a L� Prison, sarcastically named the
Hanoi Hilton by American POWs, the official names of the 12 other
Vietnamese camps were unknown.
Gideon's camp was like other
countryside camps used by the enemy, the sound of the creek and
wildlife echoed through the surrounding canopy of coconut palm and
banana trees. The seemingly peaceful Vietnamese swamplands were a
smoke and mirrors to its reality. Rice paddies were being tended by
North Vietnamese civilians. It was a lonely place, undisturbed by
the rest of the world. Although Gideon didn't know where he was, he
would be a prisoner there for roughly six years, seven months and 13
days.
"The captors thought I was really screwed up
mentally," said Gideon. "I refused to wear the prison rags they
provided, I didn't touch my food and for the most part, I had no
idea where I was. This behavior went on for weeks."
A young
Navy officer from Florida, known simply as Lt. Browning, was
Gideon's cell mate when he arrived at the prison. Browning helped
Gideon adjust to his new surroundings by tending to his new friend's
injuries, explaining where Gideon was and even refusing to eat
Gideon's food portions.
"Browning wouldn't eat my food even
though I refused to touch it, and not because he wasn't hungry or
afraid of being punished," said Gideon. "He was starving and easily
could've eaten it, but he didn't want the captors to think I was
eating. He wanted them to know how sick I was. He was just doing it
because it was the right thing to do."
The integrity
displayed by his cell mate helped Gideon transition to his new, dire
surroundings. One day, Gideon finally accepted a bowl of rice.
Within minutes, the entire bowl was gone. A rare humble display of
humanity was shown by the prison guard, who noticed Gideon quickly
eat his rice and offered him a second bowl.
However, the
display of humanity was short lived.
Gideon, like most
American POWs at the time, was often isolated from the other
prisoners during questioning. Bound by his wrist with rope, he was
viciously interrogated by North Vietnamese soldiers. But, he did not
falter, nor did he break. With a body battered from the savage
conditions and even after witnessing the pain, and broken bodies, of
his fellow service members; Gideon never reached his breaking point.
"Selling out my country wasn't an option," said Gideon,
remaining true to his commitment as an Airman. "They knew I wasn't
saying a word, other than what I was trained to say."
American POWs were often forced to sign confessions of guilt, write
letters to American politicians or be manipulated in other ways, and
used as an asset for the North Vietnamese military agenda. Some
prisoners were given special treatment, or favors by their captors,
by simply cooperating with them. Gideon refused any special
treatment because he felt to accept anything from the enemy would
place him in the enemy's debt, a price he refused to pay.
"There were times I started to become discouraged," said Gideon,
looking back on his tested resiliency as a POW. "Every year that
passed, [away from family] I wondered what was happening back home.
New prisoners would come in and say things like, 'there's no way
we'll be here after the first of next year' and that year would
pass. Then another year passed and another and so on ... and
eventually, many years passed. At times, that was very
discouraging."
Although he could have easily succumbed to the
despair, Gideon never gave up on his faith in the United States.
Years passed, and his family waited patiently for his return. He
knew they would be taken care of by the Air Force until that day
arrived.
"There was no escaping the prison," said Gideon.
"Even if there were, I couldn't leave those men behind. I wouldn't
be able to live with myself knowing the punishment that would have
been bestowed upon them."
In the years Gideon was prisoner,
only one prison break was attempted. The two Americans that
attempted the escape were caught within hours and subjected to even
longer amounts of torture than they spent away from the prison. One
of the men died from the excessive beating he received from the
enemy.
Gideon never gave up, through more than six years of
prayer, exercising in his prison cell, believing in the United
States' promise to bring him home and being friends with his fellow
American POWs, he kept hope alive. And although Comprehensive Airman
Fitness didn't exist during the Vietnam War, Gideon and his fellow
prisoners unknowingly used those pillars to survive.
On
March 4, 1973, Gideon's prayers were answered. He was liberated and
able to return home. Looking back, he holds no grudge against his
captors, and his positive outlook on life has helped him move on
from the turmoil that shackled him physically and mentally for the
better part of a decade.
Gideon went on to retire from the
Air Force as a colonel and spent his last years of active duty
commanding the 437th AW Supply Squadron and Resource Management
deputy commander at Charleston Air Force Base, S.C. Upon retirement,
he remained in the local area and today lives a quiet life in Mount
Pleasant, S.C.
Even though he has moved on with his life and
let go of the pains of yesterday and rarely talks about his time as
a POW, he will never forget the sacrifices made and encourages
everyone to remember the 1,655 still missing after the conflicts in
Southeast Asia more than 40 years ago.
Article and photo by USAF Airman 1st Class Tom Brading
Joint Base Charleston Public Affairs
Air Force News Service
Copyright 2013
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