To Be Praised?

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I did, look up some links and verify this before posting this paticular article:

Jane Fonda is being honored as one of the "100 Women of the Century." Unfortunately, many have forgotten and still countless others have never known how Ms. Fonda betrayed not only the idea of our country but specific men who served and sacrificed during Vietnam.

In 1968, the former Commandant of the USAF Survival School, F-4E pilot Jerry Driscoll, was a POW in Ho Lo Prison-the "Hanoi Hilton." Dragged from a stinking cesspit of a cell, he was cleaned, fed and dressed in clean pajama's. He was then ordered to describe for a visiting American "peace activist" the "lenient and humane treatment" he had received. Instead, he spat at Ms. Jane Fonda, was clubbed and dragged away. During the subsequent beating, he fell forward upon the camp Commandant's feet, which sent that officer berserk.

In 1978, when he was released, the Air Force Colonel still suffered from the Vietnamese Colonel's frenzied application of a wooden baton, double vision plagued him for the rest of his life, which permanently ended his flying career.

From 1963-65, Colonel Larry Carrigan was in the F-4E's. He spent 6 years in the Ho Lo Prison, the first three of which he was considered missing in action. His wife lived on faith that he was still alive.

His group, too, were cleaned, fed and clothed in preparation for a "peace delegation" visit.
They, however, had time and devised a plan to get word to the world that they still survived.

Each man secreted a tiny piece of paper, with his SSN on it, in the palm of his hand. They were paraded before Ms. Fonda and a cameraman. As Ms. Fonda walked the line, shaking each man's hand and she asked little encouraging snippets like: "Aren't you sorry you bombed babies?" and "Are you grateful for the humane treatment from your benevolent captors?"

Believing this HAD to be an act, they each palmed her their sliver of paper. She took them all without missing a beat. At the end of the line and once the camera stopped rolling, to the shocked disbelief of the POWs, she turned to the officer in charge and handed him the little pile of papers.

Three men died from the subsequent beatings. Colonel Carrigan was almost number four but he survived, which is the only reason we know about her actions that day.

I was a civilian economic development advisor in Vietnam, and was captured by the North Vietnamese communists in South Vietnam in 1968 and held for over 5 years. I spent 27 months in solitary confinement, one year in a cage in Cambodia and one year in a "black box" in Hanoi.

My North Vietnamese captors deliberately poisoned and murdered a female missionary, a nurse in a leprosarium in Ban me Thuot, South Vietnam, whom I buried in the jungle near the Cambodian border. At one time, I was weighing approximately 90 lbs. (My normal weight is 170 lbs.)

We were Jane Fonda's "war criminals."

When Jane Fonda was in Hanoi, I was asked by the camp communist political officer if I would be willing to meet with Jane Fonda. I said yes, for I would like to tell her about the real treatment we POWs received different from the treatment purported by the North Vietnamese, and parroted by Jane Fonda, as "humane and lenient."

Because of this, I spent three days on a rocky floor on my knees with outstretched arms with a large amount of steel placed on my hands and beaten with a bamboo cane till my arms dipped.

I had the opportunity to meet with Jane Fonda for a couple of hours after I was released. I asked her if she would be willing to debate me on TV. She did not answer me.

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This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.

I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.

the past


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