Bud Day: Vietnam War POW Hero

By Richard C. Barrett | Vietnam  | 9 comments  |  Print This Post  |  Email This Post

The dark places where Day and hundreds of other POWs were stretched to the limits of their endurance have many names, too. Hoa Lo Prison, called the Hanoi Hilton, is the most infamous. But there also were places like Heartbreak Hotel, New Guy Village, Riviera, Stardust, Thunderbird and Camp Hope. The latter, officially known as Son Tay, was the site of an unsuccessful rescue mission by American forces in November 1970.

The North Vietnamese moved the POWs from camp to camp, sometimes on an apparent whim and at other times to exhibit them to visiting Americans and others friendly to the North Vietnamese cause. A prisoner might freeze in winter and roast in the summer. Rats, insects and disease lurked in the corners of the prisoners’ cells. The food was low-calorie, scarce and of poor quality—except when a POW was set for early release or the North Vietnamese thought the war might end. Day recalled that after the 1968 Tet Offensive and during the presidential elections of 1968 and 1972, the abuse slackened and the food quality improved.

There were lows and highs, pain and relief. There were some small victories as well. Once, in a protest over the right to conduct prayer services, the POWs refused to leave their building. When Air Force Lt. Col. Robinson Risner and other POWs were taken out by force, Day jumped up on his bed and started to sing “The Star Spangled Banner” and “God Bless America.” The entire room burst into song. As all the POWs joined in, their voices could be heard outside the 15-foot-high walls of the Hanoi Hilton. The North Vietnamese backed down that time, but if the prisoners pushed too far, punishment was inevitable.

Communication between cells and buildings was another small victory. The North Vietnamese tried but failed to stop the clandestine flow of information. Besides written messages, the techniques included standard Morse code, the alternate “Smitty Harris Tap Code,” talking under doors and gesturing through windows. The POWs shared resistance plans, details of questioning sessions and the grim facts of torture sessions. Day said this kept many men from going insane.

An oasis in the desert of beatings and maltreatment was the prisoners’ own comradeship. Even when they were crowded into a single room, it was cause for celebration. The overcrowding—combined with the heat, the insects and the disease—inevitably created tension, but the prisoners overcame any differences.

If a POW was caught passing messages, the retaliation was quick and brutal, sometimes fatal. In his book Duty, Honor, Country, Day recalled one barbaric beating early in his capture. Accused of communicating, he was taken from his cell, marched at gunpoint to the interrogator’s office and asked to confess. Day refused, sending his torturer, Goldie, into a rage. Day was taken to a room flecked with brown stains, presumably blood from previous beatings. He was shackled by the feet and then ordered to drop his trousers. His wrists were then shackled. As Day recalled: “The manacles began to cut and gouge my wrists immediately, causing scars that remained for several years. My hands began to swell and throb.”

The worst, however, was yet to come. He was ordered to lie face down on the filthy floor. As he did, Day nervously watched two guards, each holding a 30-inch length of fan belt, knotted so it would not slip from their hands. The guards charged in, screaming, the whips held above their heads. They struck the helpless POW’s buttocks, back and upper legs, cutting his exposed body and drawing blood. Day pleaded for relief.

Goldie stopped the beatings and demanded answers. Day refused and the beating resumed. The flesh swelled on the beaten portion of his body, and blood oozed its way from his buttocks to his legs, dripping slowly onto the floor. During a surrealistic interlude, the torturers broke for lunch, and Day was treated to a half-bowl of bland pumpkin soup along with half a loaf of equally tasteless bread. Beaten almost into incoherence, Day managed only to down some water. After an hour, Goldie returned with a fresh team of beaters.

Help HistoryNet by bookmarking to

Tags: Historical Figures, Vietnam War

You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.