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It’s been 50 years this month since Robert T. White, the last Vietnam prisoner of war released, came home.
Part of his homecoming was a celebration on April 19, 1973, in Williamsburg, where his wife lived. Festivities were held on Market Square Green with a militia muster complete with a review of the troops. The mayor even gave him a key to the city.
Today, 50 years later, White will have no special celebration.
“Every day is a celebration,” he said in a recent telephone interview from his Denver home. Recalling his 3 1/2 years of imprisonment, the retired Army major explained, “I had — was in — a bad situation. Freedom is important to me. Other people may take it for granted, but I don’t. Every day, I appreciate life and appreciate being able to enjoy it.”
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Stationed at nearby Fort Eustis before departing for his second Vietnam tour of duty in 1969, White — then a captain — listed his home of record as Newport News, where he lived with his then-wife, Judith. Until the announcement of his release, she did not even know he was alive and had survived the downing of his Army aircraft on Nov. 15, 1969.
White’s name was never on any POW-MIA (prisoner of war-missing in action) list.
“I had no communication and assumed (my family) didn’t know I had survived. There were no other POWs with me.”
When White got to his third prison camp, he listened, by chance, to a Radio Hanoi broadcast and heard about the conditions of peace. “All POWs were to be repatriated in 60 days. But nothing happened for me. I guess the Viet Cong headquarters forgot I was still there.”
Suddenly, there was a hurried release for him. After “the last POWs were released,” White came home “three days after everyone else had left,” he said.
While on his way home, White briefly stopped in the Philippines, where he was treated for malaria and malnutrition. Then, it was on to the Army’s Valley Forge General Hospital in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania, where on April 4 he was reunited with his wife, mother and brother.
He left the hospital on April 14 for a month-long convalescent leave in Williamsburg, where his wife had moved in September to begin her studies at William & Mary. Then, five days later, his adopted city held a special homecoming for him.
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The ceremony on Market Square Green resembled a welcome for a lifelong citizen, even though White was a new resident.
Speaking to a crowd of nearly 3,000, then-Mayor Vernon M. Geddy Jr. said, according to newspaper accounts, it was “particularly fitting that we here in this city should pause and reflect upon the service rendered by Capt. White.”
“In the midst of our seemingly hedonistic society where the goal of so many is the immediate gratification of every selfish drive, let us be reminded,” Geddy said, “that courage, loyalty, honor, duty and sacrifice are neither hollow or hackneyed words, but represent standards of conduct which afford us the best hope of passing on to our heirs the liberties which we enjoy in such abundance.”
Fifty years later, White said he “definitely” recalls “the full muster of the colonial militia. I was told it was the only one since (Gen.) Omar Bradley got one” in May 1968.
“Oh, the key to the city I received is hanging on the wall right now,” he added. “And I really appreciated that.”
All in all, White recounted “there was a pass in review by the militia. I was very honored. It was quite a spectacle.”
Although in the city only a few days, White told the crowd, “Every place I go — in the shops and on the streets, people say, ‘Welcome home.’ I am sincerely proud to be a resident of the city of Williamsburg.”
On the reviewing stand with White was Maj. Gen. Jack G. Fuson, commanding general of the Army Transportation Center and Fort Eustis, where White resumed his active Army career. He and his wife remained in Williamsburg until she got her bachelor’s degree from William & Mary three years later.
White said he was amazed at the quantity of mail he received after he returned. He also was sent a number of POW-MIA bracelets. “I remember receiving one letter that was simply addressed: Capt. White, Virginia.”
Today, White doesn’t have any problem recalling his POW captivity because the arthritis and the peripheral neuropathy he brought back with him “is simply much worse … and exposure to Agent Orange led to prostate cancer that I have now.”
At one point, he didn’t think he would live to be 82.
It was just about a month after he returned for his second Vietnam tour in October 1969 that White was shot down and captured by the Viet Cong, the communist troops in South Vietnam.
After being assigned to the 1st Aviation Brigade, he was flying a visual reconnaissance mission in an OV-1 Mohawk aircraft when it was hit by enemy ground fire. The aircraft caught fire, he ejected and was subsequently captured.
At the time, there was only one other American with him. After January 1970, he saw no other Americans and hadn’t heard English being spoken until he was released on April 1, 1973.
During his confinement, White was in three camps in the Delta area. He was forced to live in a cage built of mangrove limbs. It was 4 feet wide, 6.5 feet long and 4 feet high — so he could lie down but not fully stand up. “I spent 19 months in the cage and one like it. I was fed twice a day and was in the cage, often shackled for 23 1/2 hours a day,” he explained.
He lost weight and was often extremely sick, he added.
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In several Army interviews after he got home, White said that early in his captivity, “there was a point when I fully expected to lose my mind. I was physically sick and extremely weak.” In the recent Gazette interview, he said he survived “by taking it one day at a time, and that’s how I live today.”
White’s last 12 years in the Army involved a variety of activities. He participated in a college degree completion program at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University and then flew different Army aircraft until he retired in 1985.
Afterward, he explored a number of opportunities, trying to find a new profession. Using the G.I. Bill, he enrolled in a watch and clock repair class. “I did that full time for about three years, but I didn’t get real good at it. When my instructor retired, I took his place and taught clock repair for 12 years, repairing clocks on the side. I was never good at repairing watches.”
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After he spent some months in semi-retirement, Congress in 2003 passed a bill — Combat-Related Special Compensation — for which he ultimately qualified. “With that financial assistance, I didn’t need to work anymore,” White said.
Eight weeks ago, he married his longtime love Barbara, and White said he is “pretty optimistic” and “feels good” about the future. He enjoys riding a three-wheel cycle “about 60 miles a week in good weather. I’m looking forward to life!”
Wilford Kale covered the return of the POWs in 1973 for the Richmond Times-Dispatch, including White’s arrival at the Army’s hospital outside Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, and his subsequent welcome home celebration in Williamsburg.