Return with Honor
I finished Return with Honor, a documentary about prisoners of war in North Vietnam from the mid-1960s through the early 1970s who were held in what's known as the Hanoi Hilton.
This was a story I knew nothing about, and it was a fascinating film. The men told their own stories; it was basically an oral history. But what made this movie unique, at least out of the war documentaries I've been watching lately, is that the filmmakers were granted access to archival footage taken by the North Vietnamese of the prisoners during their captivity. So these men, twenty-five years later (the film was made in 1998, and most were released in 1973), were talking about what happened to them there, and then old footage of the men would be shown. For example, the North Vietnamese government denied that the men were being tortured, and one of the men explained how he was filmed and knew it would be broadcast, so he blinked the letters "t-o-r-t-u-r-e" with his eyes in Morse Code to convey that message to the folks watching at home. And there was actual footage of when he did that, standing there, looking a little freaked, and blinking his eyes. And there was instance after instance of that, and it was amazing to see what the men looked like back then and then see them telling about it all those years later.
One of the most touching moments of the film, which made me cry throughout, are you kidding me, was a very frail and wounded man lying on a gurney saying in a very weak and shaky voice, "I would just like to tell my wife that I will get well, that I love her, and I hope to see her soon. And I'd appreciate it if you told her that." And I squinted at the screen and realized that it was John McCain.
The men used a tapping code to communicate with each other because for the majority of the years they were in captivity, they were very isolated. So they would tap on the walls and get to know everything that could possibly be known about each other across concrete walls, sometimes never having met or laid eyes on the person they shared their most intimate contact with. They would exercise in their cells, they would design houses in their minds, they would compose poetry ... they would do anything they could to keep their minds active so they wouldn't go nuts. Many of them attempted suicide. Some were offered the opportunity of early release, and they turned it down, because that would be breaking the code. It wouldn't be fair, and it might be harmful in some way to those left behind. John McCain was one of those. I don't really know much about John McCain's politics, but seeing him as one of these guys -- I'll tell you. It makes me want to shake the dude's hand.
The prison was built by the French to torture the Vietnamese, and the Vietnamese used the techniques they learned from the West to torture the Americans, largely airmen who were shot down and captured. War begetting war, cruelty begetting cruelty, and so it goes. One of the men drew pictures in his mind of the torture techniques with the plan of drawing them on paper one day, and he did, within a month of his return home. The film showed his drawings, and they were awful. They were tied up in ropes and their joints were dislocated. One of the men cried when remembering how the worst part of it for him was spending every night lying on his concrete slab hearing the screams of his fellow airmen being tortured and knowing he couldn't do anything to help them.
During one interrogation, a propaganda minister told one of the POWs that the war would be ended in the streets of America and that the POWs were part of that plan -- they were used as pawns to incite American protest against the war. And the airman was told that America could never win a war like that war, between two groups of the same country, and that once America finally understood that, it would all be over.
The stories they told were unbelievable. The dignity they exhibited when telling the stories was even more so. That sounds so trite, but it's true. They spent 5, 6, 7, 8 years of their lives imprisoned under horrific circumstances, and they seem to believe that what they went through was better than being killed in action, and they recognize that the welcome they received upon returning home and their treatment as heroes was so different from the way most of the other veterans were treated, and they acknowledge that it wasn't fair. They think everyone who fought in the war should have been welcomed home like they were.
And the cynical side of me wants to say that this is all formulaic bull, but when you see the men in their 50s with tears in their eyes and catches in their throats talking about what it was like and then you see footage of them in their 20s actually there, in handcuffs, with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes and pale skin that only got to go outside for 15 minutes a day, and you see the moment they are transferred from North Vietnamese to American custody and they are doing their best to salute their officers and to be brave, and you see their wives and children running to them across the tarmac and hear their voices shaking when a microphone is put before them upon their return and they say in a quivering voice, "God bless America," well, it all seems very real and true.
After I finished the movie earlier tonight, I went to the grocery store. And as I waited in line, I picked up a People magazine with a big spread about Paris Hilton and her "life behind bars." I have never been able to muster much of an opinion about Paris Hilton. The most I can do in her general direction is flare my nostrils and shrug. I've never understood all of the hoopla around her and I've never gotten worked up about her in any regard. But as I flipped through this article about her, this article about Paris Hilton, after having just watched a movie about men who spent 8 years of their lives being tortured as prisoners of war in the Hanoi Hilton, I suddenly developed a very strong opinion about Paris. And that is mainly that she should shut the fuck up, and that for her to paint herself -- or for the media to paint her -- as some kind of traumatized victim is so disgraceful that it makes me want to vomit.
In conclusion, I'm very glad that I watched this film the week of the 4th of July. And I hope that kids are being taught about this in history classes today, because I never was. And if you are at all interested in history and the suffering and the experiences that go on in war on all sides, this film is most definitely worth watching.
This was a story I knew nothing about, and it was a fascinating film. The men told their own stories; it was basically an oral history. But what made this movie unique, at least out of the war documentaries I've been watching lately, is that the filmmakers were granted access to archival footage taken by the North Vietnamese of the prisoners during their captivity. So these men, twenty-five years later (the film was made in 1998, and most were released in 1973), were talking about what happened to them there, and then old footage of the men would be shown. For example, the North Vietnamese government denied that the men were being tortured, and one of the men explained how he was filmed and knew it would be broadcast, so he blinked the letters "t-o-r-t-u-r-e" with his eyes in Morse Code to convey that message to the folks watching at home. And there was actual footage of when he did that, standing there, looking a little freaked, and blinking his eyes. And there was instance after instance of that, and it was amazing to see what the men looked like back then and then see them telling about it all those years later.
One of the most touching moments of the film, which made me cry throughout, are you kidding me, was a very frail and wounded man lying on a gurney saying in a very weak and shaky voice, "I would just like to tell my wife that I will get well, that I love her, and I hope to see her soon. And I'd appreciate it if you told her that." And I squinted at the screen and realized that it was John McCain.
The men used a tapping code to communicate with each other because for the majority of the years they were in captivity, they were very isolated. So they would tap on the walls and get to know everything that could possibly be known about each other across concrete walls, sometimes never having met or laid eyes on the person they shared their most intimate contact with. They would exercise in their cells, they would design houses in their minds, they would compose poetry ... they would do anything they could to keep their minds active so they wouldn't go nuts. Many of them attempted suicide. Some were offered the opportunity of early release, and they turned it down, because that would be breaking the code. It wouldn't be fair, and it might be harmful in some way to those left behind. John McCain was one of those. I don't really know much about John McCain's politics, but seeing him as one of these guys -- I'll tell you. It makes me want to shake the dude's hand.
The prison was built by the French to torture the Vietnamese, and the Vietnamese used the techniques they learned from the West to torture the Americans, largely airmen who were shot down and captured. War begetting war, cruelty begetting cruelty, and so it goes. One of the men drew pictures in his mind of the torture techniques with the plan of drawing them on paper one day, and he did, within a month of his return home. The film showed his drawings, and they were awful. They were tied up in ropes and their joints were dislocated. One of the men cried when remembering how the worst part of it for him was spending every night lying on his concrete slab hearing the screams of his fellow airmen being tortured and knowing he couldn't do anything to help them.
During one interrogation, a propaganda minister told one of the POWs that the war would be ended in the streets of America and that the POWs were part of that plan -- they were used as pawns to incite American protest against the war. And the airman was told that America could never win a war like that war, between two groups of the same country, and that once America finally understood that, it would all be over.
The stories they told were unbelievable. The dignity they exhibited when telling the stories was even more so. That sounds so trite, but it's true. They spent 5, 6, 7, 8 years of their lives imprisoned under horrific circumstances, and they seem to believe that what they went through was better than being killed in action, and they recognize that the welcome they received upon returning home and their treatment as heroes was so different from the way most of the other veterans were treated, and they acknowledge that it wasn't fair. They think everyone who fought in the war should have been welcomed home like they were.
And the cynical side of me wants to say that this is all formulaic bull, but when you see the men in their 50s with tears in their eyes and catches in their throats talking about what it was like and then you see footage of them in their 20s actually there, in handcuffs, with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes and pale skin that only got to go outside for 15 minutes a day, and you see the moment they are transferred from North Vietnamese to American custody and they are doing their best to salute their officers and to be brave, and you see their wives and children running to them across the tarmac and hear their voices shaking when a microphone is put before them upon their return and they say in a quivering voice, "God bless America," well, it all seems very real and true.
After I finished the movie earlier tonight, I went to the grocery store. And as I waited in line, I picked up a People magazine with a big spread about Paris Hilton and her "life behind bars." I have never been able to muster much of an opinion about Paris Hilton. The most I can do in her general direction is flare my nostrils and shrug. I've never understood all of the hoopla around her and I've never gotten worked up about her in any regard. But as I flipped through this article about her, this article about Paris Hilton, after having just watched a movie about men who spent 8 years of their lives being tortured as prisoners of war in the Hanoi Hilton, I suddenly developed a very strong opinion about Paris. And that is mainly that she should shut the fuck up, and that for her to paint herself -- or for the media to paint her -- as some kind of traumatized victim is so disgraceful that it makes me want to vomit.
In conclusion, I'm very glad that I watched this film the week of the 4th of July. And I hope that kids are being taught about this in history classes today, because I never was. And if you are at all interested in history and the suffering and the experiences that go on in war on all sides, this film is most definitely worth watching.
posted by eliza @ 9:49 PM
6 Comments:
Amen, sister, regarding your assesment of Paris. But I don't just want her to shut up...I want all these ridiculous media sources that think Paris is news to just stop talking about her so she'll go away.
I have not seen this film (what have I seen lately? Nothing! That's what having a baby does to you) but I really want to. You've described it well.
I agree wholeheartedly! The media are definitely playing a big part in the Paris ridiculousness.
I think you'd like this movie. It's powerful, informative, and so touching.
In a recent Republican debate John McCain and Ron Paul stood alone concerning the role of torture. It is not the American way.
Oh, you mean the John McCain who, once home from Viet Nam, abandoned his wife and children to pursue a beautiful young socialite? Hm.
I'm not saying Paris is right, and I'm not saying that the prisoners of war didn't go through something horrible, because they obviously did. But Paris is a human being too, and we can't forget that. Every single human individual on Earth has their own personal challenges to go through in life, no matter how big or small those challenges may seem to the rest of us.
Anonymous #1, I didn't watch the debate so didn't hear that. Thanks for letting me know.
Anonymous #2, I didn't know that about John McCain. I don't think it takes away from the authenticity and power of that moment in the documentary, though, when he was clearly speaking from his heart and from a place of (a) suffering (b) fear (c) hope (d) desperation. I guess you'd need to see it yourself.
Anonymous #3, I see what you are saying about PH. As my boyfriend said when we were discussing this, suffering is relative. (Or something to that effect.) I'm sure that being in jail for Paris, in the context of her life and experience, was truly sucktastic. But seeing her on that magazine cover minutes after finishing the POW documentary made me feel really ill. I don't have anything against her personally -- it was just her tale of jail woe set against the backdrop in my mind of POWs -- it made me upset.
Meanwhile, my boyfriend pointed out that I can't blame the media, because the People magazine issue that set me off me sold a kajillion copies, and he said the media would not be producing this stuff if there were not such a strong consumer appetite for it. We agreed that supply/demand go hand in hand, though.
Anyway. I see your point, Anonymous #3, is all I'm saying. Anonymous #2, I think you're sounding a little unnecessarily sarcastic here. What John McCain has done since his imprisonment in his personal life does not take away from what he suffered and survived as a POW.
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