Vietnam War POW-MIA


A Letter From a Lost Soul POW-MIA in Vietnam

Somewhere in the jungles of Vietnam

Dear Mom and Dad,

How long has it been that my soul longs for you every day? I was shipped to Nam with a special oath to fight in a place where bombs and jets pound days and nights. It has been 50 years that the daily sounds of jet bombing and artillery are now replaced by the cry of our American souls that roam endlessly in the clouds above.

Somewhere in the jungle of Vietnam, in the valleys of rice fields, in the swamps along the Mekong Rivers, in the Trails of Ho Chi Minh, there lay our unmarked graves. Even after death, our POW-MIAs are still subjected to imprisonment. Some of my lucky buddies had come home as I heard the news during our daily headcounts in our POW camp. RJ had gone home, and he was tasked with delivering all these POW-MIA letters for us. Please continue to pray for me to find my remains someday.

Wherever you are, in the nursing home, or have perished just like me? I just want to come home. I want to see the sunroom looking out to the garden where you used to sit until sunset as if you were watching over my sleep in a letter you wrote. But, Mom, Charlies never gave us any respite from hell. Nighttime was their attacking time. It’s an ironic twist of fate that every day, my soul floats in the clouds above, searching for my remains instead of me riding in a helicopter in our last mission, “Search and Destroy Charlie’s bases.”

Mom and dad, please don’t let my soul fade without a trace. I want to come home.

Your son,

Jim Huynh – September 16, 2021 
In Remembering of Our POW-MIA at Penn’s Landing


A Poem From a Lost Soul POW-MIA in Vietnam

Somewhere in the jungles of Vietnam

Mom and Dad,

How long has it been that my soul longs for homecoming?
Fifty years ago, I swore a special oath as millions of young men did:
“To defend our country, to help our friends, and to challenge any foes far away.”
Since I died in Nam while helping the ARVN, my soul has become stray.

Somewhere in the treacherous jungles of Vietnam, there lay my remains,
Beneath any dense terrain could be a grave of a soldier not yet claimed.
My soul continues to roam in the heavens above
Pining to come home and weeping like a lone mourning dove.

Some of my buddies have been found intact;
And as their remains travel home, their souls also come back.
I keep checking if they have found any remnants of my remains.
My soul is urging the search for MIA to resume again.

Wherever you may be, I want to come home.
I am among a thousand souls that continue to roam.
I will never have peace until they find bits and pieces of my remains
Like all the young men MIA, their remains have remained unclaimed.

I want to see the Eagles, the Phillies, and the garden I know so well.
Lives were simple before the bombs and bodies fell.
My soul keeps searching for a missing piece that only home can replace.
Mom and dad, please don’t let me fade without a trace.

Jim Huynh
Remembering our POW-MIA at Penn’s Landing on September 16, 2021