7 minute read
What the Fourth of July Means To Me
Coronado Eagle & Journal - July 5, 1973
Cdr. Edward H. Martin, U.S. Navy, a Prisoner of War in North Vietnam for six years, wrote this moving account of what the Fourth of July meant to him.
July the Fourth in Coronado is more than a tradition; it is an institution. July the Fourth 1973 is especially significant and meaningful to me because it brings back many memories –some pleasant and some not so pleasant.
For six long years, I have so frequently thought and dreamed of being home in Coronado to celebrate our Independence Day in the manner that had become a tradition for my family and our friends here.
As the years went by in Hanoi, there were three landmark dates I looked forward to: Christmas, my wedding anniversary, and the Fourth of July. Upon the passing of one of these dates, I looked toward the next, hoping and praying that we would be free and home with our loved ones to celebrate as we chose. We lived and re-lived our memories of past occasions in the most minute detail and planned, in equally minute detail, those of the future. Not only did our memories provide hours of happy recollections from the past, but they also provided diversion from realities of the austere present.
We were being held captive by a regime that denied us even the basic rights of human beings and denied its citizens any of the many freedoms and rights that Americans enjoy, making the Fourth of July particularly significant to me. How happy were memories of the past Fourths: from the parades, picnics, and fireworks displays as a youngster, to perhaps a family vacation trip.
It was in the fall of 1955 when I first came to Coronado as a young Lieutenant (jg) to be stationed at North Island. July the Fourth 1956 was the first for me in Coronado and the beginning of a tradition that has come to mean so much.
In the past, we always watched the parade with close friends gathering in front of what is now the Central Wine and Cheese store, usually dressed in Bermuda shorts. Afterwards, we would attend a luncheon party and, in the evening, go near the municipal swimming pool to watch the beautiful fireworks display in Glorietta Bay. There was a spectacular “fireworks display” on the Fourth of July 1967, too – but not nearly so cordial.
That day, I was on a large strike against a missile storage complex near Haiphong, North Vietnam. I well remember how this contrasted with the celebrations that I knew were being enjoyed here and yet how similar the representation was.
We were involved in a display in pursuit of aiding a small Asian ally fighting so valiantly for their independence, freedom and rights that we, too, had fought for so courageously in 1776.
Five days later, I was shot down and captured. During the next 68 months, those freedoms and rights for which we had fought 197 years ago became more precious than ever. During the years 1968 through 1971, the celebrations of the Fourth were held only by memory of past ones with the exception of our Pledge to the Flag that we said daily in the evenings.
During these years, most of us in Hanoi were either alone in our small cells or with one or two other POWs. Nevertheless, we held our celebrations of these most patriotic days “together” by means of clandestine communications. We laboriously tapped patriotic passages through the walls which were memorized and passed on. The memorable statement of John Paine in 1776 was particularly encouraging to me and so appropriate in the face of the intense propaganda by the North Vietnamese concerning the anti-war liberals in the United States. I shall never forget these words: “These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country; but he that stands now, deserves the love and thanks of men and women.”
Independence Day 1972 was one that will be long remembered. This day was the first Fourth of July for me alongside a large group of prisoners where we held a very special program. There seemed to be an inward knowledge and a deep feeling that this was to be our last Fourth as prisoners of war. The mining of Haiphong had been initiated, the bombing of the northern areas had started again and there had been something of a relaxation in the harsh treatment. Many of us thought that our captors, too, believed the end was near. Although conditions were still not good, our spirits were particularly high since the bombing had started again and we had learned of the blockade.
Last year, we had a profound celebration that brought tears to the eyes of each of the 40 POWs in room two of Hoa La prison, Hanoi. A small choir had been formed and all of the patriotic songs that we knew were sung or hummed as the background for a recital of passages depicting our fight for independence, our Founding Fathers’ preambles, our goals and our freedoms. This was done with an unusual degree of solemnness and decorum in the presence of a small and tattered American Flag that had been so lovingly made.
As a finality, a cake was presented made of bread dough and painstakingly decorated as an American flag with a frosting made from Kool-Aid for coloring. The Kool-Aid had been carefully hoarded from the paltry number of packages that had been received from our families. For the second time that day, we sang the Star Spangled Banner with tears in our eyes and closed the program with God Bless America. All of the prisoners there became more aware of what America really means.
That was 4 July, 1972, and on the same day here in Coronado, as we were to learn after repatriation, our faith was to be upheld in the highest manner by the most patriotic and loyal community in the United States. For Coronado had not forgotten us or our families, which was quite the contrary, as the wonderful citizens of this city had done everything possible for our families during these trying years.
On the Fourth of July, we, the POWs of Coronado, were so highly honored by our position in absentia in the parade. Now, on this Independence Day, it is indeed an honor to be home and to participate in this celebration. A greater privilege could not be bestowed upon a human than to be a citizen of the United States and enjoy the freedoms, rights, and traditions that our heritage has given us. The citizens of Coronado are characteristic of the true American spirit. We, the returning prisoners of war from Coronado, are indebted to this city. As we celebrate our 197th Independence Day, we should all pause and recognize the debt that we owe our institutions, our heritage, and our traditions. It’s wonderful being back in our beloved America and being home in Coronado for the most meaningful and wonderful Fourth of July ever.Edward H. Martin, Commander, U.S. Navy
Vice Admiral Edward H. Martin, USN (Ret.) Portrait by photographer Jamie Howren
