Medical center honors former war prisoners
Soldiers who sacrificed freedom feted at Overton Brooks VA
By John Andrew Prime
Sam Nelson had one of his closest calls after he escaped from his German captors in late spring 1945.
It was a memory that Nelson, , a World War II veteran and outpatient at ShreveportÕs Overton Brooks VA Medical Center, shared with a room packed with fellow former prisoners of war and well-wishers Friday at a celebration of Former Prisoner of War Recognition Day.
Officially April 9 in memory of the start of the infamous Bataan Death March in 1942, it is celebrated on the closest Friday.
After nearly five months of captivity after his capture in the Battle of the Bulge, Nelson and some fellow soldiers wound up in Czechoslovakia. They found comfortable refuge in a British camp, had dressed in British uniforms and mastered some pseudo-British accents, and had liberated some wine.
They were not feeling much pain when Nelson looked up to see some shiny boots, pearl-handled revolvers and Òmore stars than IÕd ever seen on a helmet before.Ó
It was Lt. Gen. George S. Patton wondering why men he thought were British soldiers hadnÕt jumped up to salute.
ÒDonÕt you know youÕre supposed to stand at attention when an officer approaches?Ó Nelson quoted the general as the crowd in the medical centerÕs education center started to chuckle.
ÒI was pretty well gone, so I had the courage to do it,Ó he said, setting the scene for his retort. ÒI looked at him and I said, ÔIÕm sorry, guvÕnor, but I thought you were an American cowboy!ÕÓ
Patton, who would die months later in an automobile accident, was famous for his fiery temper and strict sense of military propriety. But he also was capable of extreme practicality. It was that last trait he exhibited with men he obviously recognized as combat veterans.
ÒHe looked at me and said, ÔGive me a drink of that (wine),ÕÓ Nelson recalled. ÒHe took a drink, passed it back and said, ÔYou donÕt have to salute me, IÕll salute you.ÕÓ
The laughter that reminiscence caused mingled with tears and an almost palpable sense of pride as more than 50 local and regional people such as Nelson, who spent time in their military careers as prisoners of war, gathered at the hospital to be honored for their sacrifices for their country. They were joined in most cases by a spouse, sometimes with adult children in tow.
The keynote speaker was Bossier City Mayor Lo Walker, who as a C-47 pilot in the Vietnam War saw much action a earned a number of medals, including the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Bronze Star. But he said his salute went to these former prisoners and their peers who never returned from battle.
ÒYou stood in harmÕs way defending our nation. We are eternally grateful for your service to our country. ... I salute you.Ó
Most of the former POWS were from World War II. A handful were from the Korean War. With fewer people captured in later wars, the number drops geometrically over time.
Sidney Karnes drove from Pittsburg, Texas, to be part of the event. At age 60, heÕs a generation younger than most of the people who were there.
His captivity lasted nearly a year, through most of 1968. But while heÕs a part of the Vietnam generation, his ordeal stems from something few people under age 30 today would recognize. He was a crew member on the USS Pueblo, an intelligence-gathering ship that was captured by the North Koreans.
ÒIt took a while for us to get POW status,Ó Karnes said after had received a souvenir cap and his wife, Barbara, who heÕd married just six months before his capture, accepted roses. ÒIt took us at least 15 years.Ó
For a long time, he and his shipmates were considered detainees. Getting recognition for being imprisoned and tortured for serving his country was at the end of a long, hard campaign.
ÒBut I donÕt put myself in the same category as the men who were up there,Ó said Karnes, an Arkansas native who lived in Bossier City the year after he was released by the North Koreans. He pointed to where the World War II veterans had spoken. ÒItÕs hard to describe. You feel there are so many others who are so much more deserving.Ó
Even some of the World War II POW veterans feel that way about themselves. Albert Abraham of Marshall, Texas, was a major, flying a P-51 Mustang fighter over Bangkok, Thailand, in early 1945 when Japanese anti-aircraft fire brought him down.
ÒI donÕt really feel like I did any more than I was supposed to. I just donÕt feel like a hero. I donÕt feel like I need special recognition. There are guys that did more than I did.Ó
TheyÕre all heroes to the hospital staffers who planned the event and set up a buffet of braised chicken, fried catfish and nachos for the veterans.
ÒWeÕre standing on these menÕs shoulders today,Ó said Dock Voorhies, who works in administration at Overton Brooks. ÒThey are the ones that made this country what it is. And we owe them a debt of gratitude we can never repay.
ÒThey just give. ... They want nothing in return. This is a special group. I want this to be the best day of their life every year, the best that we can possibly make it.Ó
©The Times, Shreveport, LA