POW shares how intelligence
helps the pilot

by Airman Jennifer Gregoire

HQ AIA/PA

Kelly Air Force Base, Texas


He spent more than seven years as a prisoner of war at the hands of the North Vietnamese when his plane was shot down while flying a Rolling Thunder mission in 1965. Retired Brig. Gen. Robinson Risner shared this experience and the importance of getting intelligence to the users with Headquarters Air Intelligence Agency members here May 15.

"What intelligence means to the user is success or failure and life or death. Not only did we need target information, we needed to know how hard to hit to it destroy and what kind of weapon system to use. The intelligence briefings were good, but there was nothing they could have told me that would have prevented me from being shot down," said Risner.

"I had to lift to go over the hill, and as I topped it, the first thing I saw were tracers. I was hit immediately," said Risner, then a lieutenant colonel. "Six hundred fifty gallon tanks of napalm hit before it quite reached the target. My plane was burning outside and inside the cockpit. I couldn't see the ground or the instrument panel. Whether it ever hit the target or not, I never knew.

"I released all outside ordinance with the "panic button." When you punch the red button it means you're clean and can maneuver faster and save fuel. I also didn't have to land in a ball of fire."

Risner tried to gain control of the burning aircraft, only two or three miles from the ocean and a possible rescue. "Suddenly my stick came right back into my lap and the aircraft pitched forward, throwing me up against my shoulder straps toward the canopy. My options were gone--I was out of control. I reached for the handle to eject the canopy. After it went, I squeezed the trigger and ejected."

He landed in a rice paddy and found himself staring right into a gun barrel. "Know yourself and know your enemy. I wish that I had known more about the North Vietnamese and their customs before I was captured," said Risner.

During his seven and a half years as a prisoner, the North Vietnamese tried to break him through solitary confinement and brutal tortures for propaganda purposes.

Risner's photo was on the cover of Time magazine and when the North Vietnamese had it in their hands, they thought he was more important than what he really was. Because of this, they leaned on him more heavily.

"The first time they tied me up to torture me, they dislocated my shoulders and my ribs. I had circular blood blisters around my arms. My feet were pulled up behind me, I was blindfolded, bound hand and foot, and my chest sticking out like a proud pigeon.

"If I relaxed my back, I would choke. I had never felt pain like that in my life," said Risner. "God and country. That's what helped me when I was in prison."

"Communication is life's blood. It is so important, especially if someone was new, or you had just been isolated or tortured. GBU, God bless you, meant more than just that. It meant we know you're in there, we're praying for you and hang tough."

Risner and the other POWs used many ways of communicating, including Morse code through the walls and the Tap code. They would slap the ground with their feet, one foot harder than the other and even washed their clothes in code.

"When I got there, the others were doing the code so fast, I had to ask them to slow down."

When ever someone new entered the camp, the prisoners tried to find out new information about the war. "I was out in the court yard with a guard standing in the doorway. There was a cell to the left 100 feet away. They had left a prisoner on the table. I heard it drag across the floor. A red head pulled itself to the barred windows 10 feet above the ground. I wrote letters in the air. How much longer the war?' 5 years' It was terrible news. I wanted to slug him."

Near the end of Risner's imprisonment, the North Vietnamese had grouped 46 POWs together. There had been an American commando raid at Son Tay, a POW camp less than 30 miles away, and the Vietnamese were afraid the same thing could happen to the other camps. They grouped the POWs into one camp, one they could better defend.

With the mix of new POWs, the group established primary command and control. "Now that we were together in a camp where we could communicate, we were getting stronger and more capable. Soon this new strength began to rattle the Vietnamese cage a little bit," said Risner.

When the group started having church services, it angered the Vietnamese even more. At one point, they had taken Risner and two other high-ranking officers in front of the building and began beating them.

"Inside we heard Oh say can you see, by the dawns early light' sung as loudly as you could hear it. I was hurting but I was never prouder than I was at that moment. I no longer take freedom for granted. You have to fight for it. I didn't see a flag or hear the Star Spangled Banner for all that time. When I got home, I noticed red, white and blue on people's clothes and bags. Freedom means much more when it's lost then regained."

Risner is booked as a motivational speaker for the fourth of July, Memorial Day, Veterans Day and other occasions to talk about his experiences. "They know I'm sincere about my feelings."

He also wrote, "The Passing of the Night," because, "I believe that today's young people are searching for a dragon to slay. I want to help them find the right dragon. I want our young people to be proud of the things that count. I want to show that the smartest and bravest rely on their faith in God and our way of life. I hope to show how that faith has been tried by fire--and never failed.

"Don't ever be ashamed of your faith, nor your wonderful heritage. Be proud of those things that make America great and which can, with our help, be even greater."


Retrun to July 97