I've just finished reading two books about prisoners' experiences as American POWs in the Hanoi Hilton during the Vietnam war. The first was entitled Surviving Hell, by Leo Thorsness (who grew up in Walnut Grove, MN, home at one time to Laura Ingalls Wilder) and the second was entitled When Hell Was in Session, by Jeremiah Denton (who went on to become a senator from Alabama). Both included graphic descriptions of the way they were treated and so were at times difficult to read. But both were also inspiring. Faith in God was part of what sustained both these men during their ordeals and God's presence and help were real to these men (and many of their fellow POWs). One of the incidents described by Jeremiah Denton was especially moving and the following paragraphs are from his book, starting on page 140. As background, please note that the POWs were for the most part forbidden to communicate with each other and, for the umpteenth time, Jeremiah Denton was suspected of having broken that rule. The rear cuffs refer to cuffs around his wrists, which are behind his back, and the traveling irons are around his ankles. Flesher is one of his fellow POWs.
"They wanted me to confess what I had actually talked about, and I was put in rear cuffs and a double set of traveling irons and taken to the latrine-bathhouse, where I was told to kneel in the hot sun. The bathhouse was concrete and uncovered, and the four walls reflected the rays of the burning sun. I guessed that the temperature was 120 degrees or more. As I knelt and sweated under the noonday sun, I could hear Flesher somewhere nearby, screaming and moaning. I closed my eyes and said the rosary.
My physical condition was poor, and as the hours went on I would fall over. The guard would come and drag me around the rough concrete by my leg irons until I managed to get on my knees again. I weakened rapidly, and to make matters worse, I had to move my bowels. It is peculiar the way the mind works under certain circumstances. It was not relief from the sun that I wanted most right then. It was not food, or water, or even removal of the cuffs or traveling irons. What I wanted was toilet paper.
I was already so filthy and uncomfortable that I didn't feel I could stand one more discomfort, that of defecating without the luxury of toilet paper. And there was no way the silent, sullen guard outside would provide that amenity.
As the long minutes passed, my need became more pronounced. So as I kneeled in the sun, my head bowed, fever raging through my body, I once again turned to my source of strength. I prayed, almost apologetically, for a small favor.
When I had completed my request, I threw my head back and peeped under my blindfold at the sky. As I looked up, I saw a large leaf, swirling and fluttering in the heavy air and heading my way.
I watched fascinated as it took a sudden dive and landed practically at my feet. It was large, about 9 inches long and 6 inches wide, and pleasantly furry on one side. Perfect!
I twisted my body and picked the leaf up with my cuffed hands, tore it into four pieces, and worked my way to the nearby bucket, where I put the pieces to use."
I highly recommend both these books. I finished Leo Thorsness' book while riding the bus to work one morning and I had to fight back tears as I read about his return to America.
