Vietnam War POW-MIA


A Letter From a Lost Soul POW-MIA

Somewhere in the jungle 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 pounding 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

Somewhere in the jungle of Vietnam

Mom and dad, how my soul longs for you both
For 50 years ago, I swore a special oath.
A long, bloody war, our lives fell like drops in the rain
While my body drifts away, only my soul remains.

Somewhere out there, my body rotted in the earth’s core;
A nameless soldier, a missing prisoner of war.
I write this letter from the heavens above.
A simple request carried by heroes and peace’s white dove.

Some of my brothers of war have been found, their bones intact;
And as their bodies travel home, their souls also come back.
I look over my remains in a distant land far away,
And to my silent searchers, I pray.

Wherever you may be, I want to return home.
I am one of many souls that continue to endlessly roam.
I will never have peace until my remains are discovered
For all those small towns and innocent lives that never recovered.

I want to see the garden I know so well.
A simple life before the bombs and bodies fell.
My soul floats fragmented, a missing piece only my home can replace.
Mom and dad, please don’t let me fade without a trace.


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