Sunday, March 14, 2010

Neal Boortz: “McCain Deserves More Than A Sneer”





IN CASE YOU MISSED IT:



Neal Boortz: “McCain Deserves More Than A Sneer”



Wayne talks often of the Navy pilot who bailed out into that Hanoi lake. Wayne, you see, occupied the Plantation cell next to John McCain. I learned that the captives at the Plantation, and later at the Hanoi Hilton, kept a watchful eye on each other. They would peer through cracks in their cell doors and walls to watch the guards carry John McCain away for another session of torture. … Why bring this up?



Because I just can’t forget, nor can I forgive, that sneering arrogant expression on the face of our esteemed president when, during the so-called ‘health care summit,’ he lectured John McCain:




‘We’re not campaigning anymore,’ he said. ‘The election is over.’ For John McCain, I suspect, the campaign for America will never be over. McCain paid a price the Community Organizer can never match. He deserved more respect from the president.” – Neal Boortz


By Neal Boortz

Atlanta Journal-Constitution

March 13, 2010



He was flying a U.S. Navy A4 over Hanoi on Oct. 26, 1967, when the Soviet SAM missile hit him at 4,500 feet. Immediately all control was lost, and the jet went into an inverted flat spin.



The pilot fired the ejection seat at 500 knots. He landed in a lake in the middle of Hanoi, the 50-pound flak jacket carrying him right to the bottom.



The lake, he estimated, was about 15 feet deep. He managed to kick off the bottom; a good trick considering the fact that his right leg was shattered. One gasp of air and he went right back down.



His arms were useless for swimming, the right one being broken in three places, the left one suffering one break.



He used his teeth to pull the lanyard on his life vest; then bobbed to the surface again.



He was immediately pulled from the lake. It was then that he saw that his right leg was bent at a 90-degree angle. The locals handed him over to the police, and he soon found himself at the Heartbreak Hotel, the initial home to other American airmen who suffered his fate.


Medical care? Not at the Heartbreak Hotel.



The North Vietnamese simply put him on a bed and waited for him to die.



He was of no consequence whatsoever to them. But as he lay on that bed, slipping in and out of a coma, the North Vietnamese learned something interesting. They got his name from his dog tags, a name they recognized.



His father was a big shot. Suddenly it was imperative that they keep him alive. He could come in useful.



He was taken to a place that came to be known as the Plantation. His captors did what can only be described as a poor job of setting broken bones, then placed him in a crude body cast.


It was less than three months later that another American pilot, this one flying an Air Force F4, met a similar fate. His name is Wayne Smith, and 41 years later I would meet him on the first tee of my golf club.



Wayne and I have played many times since then, and enjoyed many meals together. Sunday is the 37th anniversary of his release and return to his family. Wayne talks often of the Navy pilot who bailed out into that Hanoi lake. Wayne, you see, occupied the Plantation cell next to John McCain.



I learned that the captives at the Plantation, and later at the Hanoi Hilton, kept a watchful eye on each other. They would peer through cracks in their cell doors and walls to watch the guards carry John McCain away for another session of torture.



Over periods of days they would hear McCain’s screams as bones were rebroken and beatings administered. His captors wanted him to sign a confession that could be used to embarrass his father, Adm. John S. McCain, the commander of U.S. forces in the Pacific.



They promised John McCain an early release if he would confess. To end his torment he finally signed a confession — but one worded so absurdly as to not be believed.



He then refused the early release. Others had been there longer than he.



At the end of each torture session fellow captives, including Wayne Smith, would be watching as John McCain was returned to his cell. McCain knew, of course, that he was being watched; and as he was drug to his cell he would wink and give his fellow Americans a thumbs-up signaling that he was OK and had not been broken. Why bring this up?



Because I just can’t forget, nor can I forgive, that sneering arrogant expression on the face of our esteemed president when, during the so-called “health care summit,” he lectured John McCain:


“We’re not campaigning anymore,” he said. “The election is over.” For John McCain, I suspect, the campaign for America will never be over. McCain paid a price the Community Organizer can never match. He deserved more respect from the president.


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