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Five Years To Freedom
When Green Beret Lieutenant James N. Rowe was captured in 1963 in Vietnam, his life became more than a matter of staying alive.
In a Vietcong POW camp, Rowe endured beri-beri, dysentery, and tropical fungus diseases. He suffered grueling psychological and physical torment. He experienced the loneliness and frustration of watching his friends die. And he struggled every day to maintain faith in himself as a soldier and in his country as it appeared to be turning against him.
His survival is testimony to the disciplined human spirit.
His story is gripping.
In a Vietcong POW camp, Rowe endured beri-beri, dysentery, and tropical fungus diseases. He suffered grueling psychological and physical torment. He experienced the loneliness and frustration of watching his friends die. And he struggled every day to maintain faith in himself as a soldier and in his country as it appeared to be turning against him.
His survival is testimony to the disciplined human spirit.
His story is gripping.
465 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published May 1, 1971
272 people are currently reading
1528 people want to read
About the author
James N. Rowe
3 books7 followersRowe graduated from West Point in 1960 and was commissioned as a second lieutenant in the United States Army. In 1963, First Lieutenant Rowe was sent to the Republic of Vietnam and assigned as Executive Officer of Detachment A-23, 5th Special Forces Group, a 12-man "A-team". Located at Tan Phu in An Xuyen Province, A-23 organized and advised a Civilian Irregular Defense Group camp in the Mekong Delta region of Vietnam. On October 29, 1963, after only three months in country, Rowe was captured by Viet Cong elements along with Captain Humberto "Rocky" R. Versace and Sergeant Daniel L. Pitzer. Separated from his comrades, Rowe spent 62 months in captivity with only brief encounters with fellow American POWs. Rowe was held in the U Minh Forest, better known as the "Forest of Darkness," in extreme southern Vietnam. During most of his five years in captivity Rowe was held in a cage. He managed to escape on December 31, 1968, after overpowering his guard,he was picked up by a UH-1 helicopter. Rowe was promoted to Major during captivity.[2] In 1971, he authored the book, Five Years to Freedom, an account of his years as a prisoner of war. In 1974, he retired from the Army.
In 1981, Rowe was recalled to active duty as a lieutenant colonel to design and build a course based upon his experience as a POW. Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape (SERE) is now a requirement for graduation from the U.S. Army Special Forces Qualification Course. SERE is taught at the Colonel James "Nick" Rowe Training compound at Camp Mackall, North Carolina. It is considered by many to be the most important advanced training in the special operations field. Navy, Air Force and Marine Special Operations personnel all attend variations of this course taught by their respective services. By 1987, Colonel Rowe was assigned as the chief of the Army division of the Joint U.S. Military Advisory Group (JUSMAG), providing counter-insurgency training for the Armed Forces of the Philippines. Working closely with the Central Intelligence Agency and intelligence organizations of the Republic of the Philippines, he was involved in its nearly decade-long program to penetrate the communist New People's Army (NPA), insurgency that threatened to overthrow the Philippines' government.
By February 1989, Colonel Rowe had acquired intelligence information which indicated that the communists were planning a major terrorist act. He warned Washington that a high-profile figure was about to be assassinated and that he himself was second or third on the assassination list. At around 7:00 in the morning of April 21, 1989, as he was being driven to work at the Joint U.S. Military Advisory Group headquarters in an armored limousine, Colonel Rowe's vehicle was hit by gunfire from a .45 caliber pistol and an M16 rifle near the corner of Tomas Morato Street and Timog Avenue in Quezon City.[3] Twenty-one shots hit the vehicle; one round entered through an unarmored portion of the vehicle frame and struck Colonel Rowe in the head, killing him instantly. Rowe's driver, Joaquin Vinuya, was wounded. Years later, the New People's Army eventually claimed responsibility for his assassination. Two Filipinos were convicted by a Philippine court and sentenced to 16 years imprisonment for Rowe's assassination: Juanito T. Itaas as principal and Donato B. Continente as an accomplice. Continente was however, released in 1995, under a Philippine government amnesty program.[4]
Rowe was buried May 2, 1989 in Section 48 of Arlington National Cemetery.
In 1981, Rowe was recalled to active duty as a lieutenant colonel to design and build a course based upon his experience as a POW. Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape (SERE) is now a requirement for graduation from the U.S. Army Special Forces Qualification Course. SERE is taught at the Colonel James "Nick" Rowe Training compound at Camp Mackall, North Carolina. It is considered by many to be the most important advanced training in the special operations field. Navy, Air Force and Marine Special Operations personnel all attend variations of this course taught by their respective services. By 1987, Colonel Rowe was assigned as the chief of the Army division of the Joint U.S. Military Advisory Group (JUSMAG), providing counter-insurgency training for the Armed Forces of the Philippines. Working closely with the Central Intelligence Agency and intelligence organizations of the Republic of the Philippines, he was involved in its nearly decade-long program to penetrate the communist New People's Army (NPA), insurgency that threatened to overthrow the Philippines' government.
By February 1989, Colonel Rowe had acquired intelligence information which indicated that the communists were planning a major terrorist act. He warned Washington that a high-profile figure was about to be assassinated and that he himself was second or third on the assassination list. At around 7:00 in the morning of April 21, 1989, as he was being driven to work at the Joint U.S. Military Advisory Group headquarters in an armored limousine, Colonel Rowe's vehicle was hit by gunfire from a .45 caliber pistol and an M16 rifle near the corner of Tomas Morato Street and Timog Avenue in Quezon City.[3] Twenty-one shots hit the vehicle; one round entered through an unarmored portion of the vehicle frame and struck Colonel Rowe in the head, killing him instantly. Rowe's driver, Joaquin Vinuya, was wounded. Years later, the New People's Army eventually claimed responsibility for his assassination. Two Filipinos were convicted by a Philippine court and sentenced to 16 years imprisonment for Rowe's assassination: Juanito T. Itaas as principal and Donato B. Continente as an accomplice. Continente was however, released in 1995, under a Philippine government amnesty program.[4]
Rowe was buried May 2, 1989 in Section 48 of Arlington National Cemetery.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 128 reviews
November 21, 2009
I will start off by highly recommending this book. I bought the book off the shelf in a truck stop. I was hoping it wasn't about John McCain. I had never heard of James N. Rowe. After getting through the first chapter, and learning about the firefight and capture I was completely hooked. I ended up reading the book in 2 days.
After getting about halfway through, I thought that I would write Col. Rowe a letter telling my thoughts. I discovered that this book was in reprint from 1970's, and Col. Rowe had been assassinated. That broke my heart.
Read this book. If you want to know what communists say in indoctrinations, this book will explain it to you.
After getting about halfway through, I thought that I would write Col. Rowe a letter telling my thoughts. I discovered that this book was in reprint from 1970's, and Col. Rowe had been assassinated. That broke my heart.
Read this book. If you want to know what communists say in indoctrinations, this book will explain it to you.
December 16, 2016
It is tough to review this book and do it justice; how do you write a review about a book that describes in horrifying detail what one man went through at the hands of oppressors? How do you write about those horrors without sounding trite [as you sit in your warm house, enjoying the very things he went without for 5 years]? You don't.
Nick Rowe was a hero. He survived a horrific ordeal and never lost his faith in God and faith in his country; even while being barraged with lies being told to him almost daily. He did his very best to keep the men he was held captive with alive [and sometimes failed], and then kept himself alive when he was the only one left. He was daring and brave and amazing. Reading this book was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I am so glad that I had the opportunity to do so. To read about this man and his courage and determination in the face of evil was awe-inspiring.
I highly recommend this book; yes, it is a tough read and there will be moments where you will want to give up [trust me, I did quite a bit. It took a lot to keep going at some moments], and there will definitely be tears, but it will be worth it. You will come out of it totally inspired.
September 11, 2007
An incredible story... there are many like this out there, but it was Rowe's account that got the Army to start training people in Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape. This is virtually a textbook in SERE training..
August 3, 2012
A not to be forgotten account by James 'Nick' Rowe. A US Green Beret captured in Vietnam and held for 5 years under the toughest of conditions.
The reader will find that most of this book is designated to his ordeal with a small amount at the beginning on his training and his readying himself for the mission and subsequent capture, then at the end his escape and return to the US. The majority of the book is a very detailed retelling of his time with the Viet Cong as a prisoner of war.
Sometimes it can be draining reading such high detail for so long, but it is an important book that anyone interested in POW history, War history or most especially a humans ability to survive under elevated levels of deprivation and starvation, should read.
The reader will find that most of this book is designated to his ordeal with a small amount at the beginning on his training and his readying himself for the mission and subsequent capture, then at the end his escape and return to the US. The majority of the book is a very detailed retelling of his time with the Viet Cong as a prisoner of war.
Sometimes it can be draining reading such high detail for so long, but it is an important book that anyone interested in POW history, War history or most especially a humans ability to survive under elevated levels of deprivation and starvation, should read.
August 6, 2012
I don't know what to say about this book other than Read It! The experiences this man went through as a POW for five years, and the fact that he was able to keep surviving is a testament to his character and human resolve in the face of adversity. If you think you're going through hardships and life is so tough on you, this book will put things into perspective. I can imagine it was difficult for the author to put all these things on paper and relive the experiences while writing, but it is to the benefit of the American people (and others as well) that he has.
June 2, 2008
AWESOME book! I highly recommend this to anyone who has an interest in Vietnam or war stories or just stories of amazing survival. It is very readable and gives a lot of background into the Vietnam culture and the politics of the war. The man kept a diary throughout his captivity and it showed an interesting side to the indoctrination/policies of the Vietnam people.
January 20, 2012
A riveting account of a man who went through hell and survived. This book chronicles the events leading up to and his eventual capture by the Viet Cong. It gives an account of his interactions with his captors, fellow prisoners, and how he was able to survive even when there was no reason to keep on hoping.
What made this book so captivating was that the author did not hold back in his account, and told the tale even when it was obviously painful to remember and recite the most horrible moments. Seeing friends die, experiencing torture from his captors, and living with debilitating illness from time to time are just a few of these things.
I was left with a sense of admiration and awe after finishing this book. Nick Rowe embodied the word hero.
What made this book so captivating was that the author did not hold back in his account, and told the tale even when it was obviously painful to remember and recite the most horrible moments. Seeing friends die, experiencing torture from his captors, and living with debilitating illness from time to time are just a few of these things.
I was left with a sense of admiration and awe after finishing this book. Nick Rowe embodied the word hero.
May 29, 2011
A classic story of true courage, especially poignant as tomorrow is Memorial Day. I remember when they brought Nick Rowe back on active duty to start up the SERE-- survival, evasion, resistance and escape course at Camp Mackall-- which would be renamed in his honor.
If you want to understand true bravery, read this book.
If you want to understand true bravery, read this book.
April 20, 2025
The prisoner indoctrination by the north Vietnamese was very interesting, as I haven't read much about it. Unbelievable strength!!
July 28, 2020
Book quotes that stuck with me:
I wrote this poem in Nam Can Region in 1964 when the attacks of dysentery were severe and a fungus infection had set in. I dreamed it one night, woke up, and wrote it down. I believed it:
When all outside and round about,
is crushing, pushing, crowding down;
The air itself is filthy, dirty,
the outer shell corrupt, unclean.
From deep within, a voice rings through:
“Be calm, be still and carry on;
For I am untouched by all mundane,
and so forever shall I be.
For I am God’s and thy shell is God’s;
Together, we form thee;
Thy shell is clay and will be dust,
but I am all eternal.
You and I, we travel far; through birth and life,
through mortal death and life hereafter;
What happens now, in time will pass,
and memory, like your shell itself, cannot last.
So look up ahead at times to come,
despair is not for us;
We have a world and more to see,
while this remains behind.
He stood as others dream to stand; He spoke as others dared not even think; From soul deep faith, he drew his courage, his granite spirit, his ironclad will. The Alien force, applied with hate, could not break him, failed to bend him; Though solitary imprisonment gave him no friends, he drew upon his inner self to create a force so strong that those who sought to destroy his will, met an army his to command. Phrases of his I shall not forget, spoken sincerely, filled with truth: All I wish is to return to family, home and those I love; For I am young and life is dear, but to bargain for this life of mine when the price you ask requires of me to verify a lie and sell my honor short, makes clear the choice between the two; a life with honor, a life without; With me, you see, life without honor is no life at all, so I will not comply with what you require and choose to suffer whatever may come. This is my answer at this time, this is my answer in times to come; I only pray that I shall not weaken, for I am right and with God’s help, I will have strength to resist whatever means you use while attempting to fulfill your evil scheme.
Thus his fate was surely sealed, for such a man, standing firm defeated them on their own ground and for him to live and tell of this was a thing that could not be. I saw him not the day he died, for, I imagine, as he lived alone, so they arranged for him to die alone; But in my mind there is no doubt, as he stood while he was alive, Duty bound, Honor bound, Unswerving in allegiance, so he stood the day he died … a Rock.”
It was a case of knowing what I was against, but failing to define clearly what I was for.
In this situation, the VC were exploiting the weaknesses of individuals who are unsure of many things except their desire to remain alive. In depriving them of any interrelationship or interdependence, the cadre could work on individual anxieties and attack the loyalties which the man had formed under different circumstances. Over a period of time, loyalties, if not deeply rooted and well formed, can be eroded. Without unity, there is no method of maintaining the validity of one’s beliefs while the cadre works to destroy them.
From a physical standpoint he could have whipped the problem, but it was psychological as well and the brief contact with Tim Barker had provided Dave with his answer to escaping the oppressive environment.
I spent long nights after that analyzing my thoughts and reactions. I had felt bitterness and hatred building, feeding off the constant frustrations and anxiety. I could destroy myself if I allowed negative emotions to dominate my thinking, and partially from a strong sense of self-preservation, partially from a sense of responsibility to the other men, because I could offer them no solutions if I could find none for myself, I turned to the one positive force our captors could never challenge, God.
I found myself returning to and drawing from that foundation in this situation where I was stripped of all material assets, leaving only the intangibles which form the core of our existence: faith, ethics, morals, beliefs. It had become a test of whatever inner strengths I possessed against the total physical control exercised by my captors. Were I to survive with my spirit intact, I could only turn to faith in the Power I believed to be so far greater than that which imprisoned me. For the first time in my life the words of the Twenty-third Psalm were a source of strength and consolation. From the loss of Dave on, I began to believe: “The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.”
Jim, in deciding to rely on his own resolve, his own inner strength to survive, had found the answer. A man who depended on his own will to live, using whatever our captors provided as an assistance, not a necessity, could surmount the obstacles to survival posed by the environment.
I thought how fortunate I was to have gotten this disease early in captivity, when my body was still strong, and to have learned to accept it. Had I gotten the disease as a new ailment after more than three years as a prisoner, it was doubtful if I could have forced my mind to accept and deal with the pain and the filth. How low I’ve sunk in conditions of living, I thought; or more exactly, conditions of existence, of survival. A sudden drop to this level would be enough to destroy any man’s will to live.
In the hours we spent sitting and talking in the kitchen or the “nha mam,”—the “house of nuoc mam—I remembered an idea I had begun to fashion back in the mangroves as a time-killer and tossed it out for group discussion. It was a plan for a resort, to be built after I got out of the prison camp, and it provided a wonderful topic for all of us to consider. Jimmy was keenly interested, and once his attention turned to the development of the idea, his recovery from the illness became more rapid. He had something he could contemplate and focus his attention on and the mental activity was like a release from our surroundings. John and Dan added their ideas, based on past experience, and the concept grew. It became a composite of all the activities we would want in a resort, all the conveniences and a setting, a perfect location to accentuate what we had created. It was this basic plan that I drew from and expanded to create the “Hacienda del Sol” complete with menus, advertising campaign and staff during the long months that lay ahead of me. It became my vehicle for reaching the outside world, one of the many dreams.
Thoughts after four years Time is infinite and creeps on knees, made stiff with age, so slowly does it crawl; But looking back, the years have flown, each so useless, each a void. Perhaps it is this that makes it so, the painfully slow, yet rapid flight, of many days, none with a face, none with its mark; one like another in long endless procession. What fate is it that holds us so, suspended in this abhorrent void; surrounded close by an alien force, while all around us life flows on. I seek the light that issues forth, from that which I knew and those whom I love; that which now seems like a dream from the past, and forms my greatest hope for the future. With faith and hope, I will survive, determined not to falter, not to die; a promise to myself to stay alive swearing that to oneself, one cannot lie. So, oh infinite time, creep on, creep on; or speed like Mercury, as the wind; for though suspended, imprisoned, bound, my mind reaches out to touch the light. And somewhere in the surrounding dark, the light I seek already glows; perhaps from here ’tis only a glimmer, but at the source, it is sunbright and strong. So span I will the time between, and at time’s end I’ll touch the light; for I have felt the Lord’s strong hand, and with his help, I cannot fail.”
One method I’d discovered to fight the frustration and anxiety was to physically exert myself to the point of near exhaustion by chopping wood, making constructive improvements in and around the kitchen hut, and engaging in any other positive, constructive activity that needed to be done. I made a personal pledge to perform only positive actions and improvements in order to negate the adverse reactions to frustrations. The resulting exhaustion allowed me to drop into periods of deep slumber at night, interrupted only by the itching, irritating lac. In solving one problem, I aggravated another. I wasn’t getting enough calories to support extra activity, and the diarrhea went wild whenever the lower abdominal muscles were strained at all. I was becoming tense and irritable, my temper rising to almost uncontrollable pitch on several occasions. I feared the possibility of total loss of control in the presence of the guards; first, because of the futility of striking out at one of them, and second, because it would give the cadre firm proof that the pressure was, in fact, affecting me and could be exploited to gain what they desired. As long as they were forced to guess about my mental state, they would have to fish for means of influencing me, possibly scrapping an effective method in order to try something new. I had no doubt that over an extended period, they could hit the right combination through trial and error, with their greatest weapon being my inability to remove myself from the tightening vise. Isolation was their key.
A strong voice in my mind was saying, “Screw him! Don’t give him a thing! Take whatever he has to throw at you and if you die trying, you’ll be robbing him of a source. At the same time you’ll be out of this shit.” Another voice said, “Better go ahead and give him what he wants. It’s stupid to put yourself in a worse spot by hard-assing him. Who’ll know if you write out what he wants? Who cares? If you do, it’ll mean you’ll still have a chance to stay alive and go home.” The thoughts clashed and I tried to compromise, realizing I had no intention of dying in this stinking camp. I wasn’t going to give Mafia the line he wanted, but I’d have to give him something to get him off of my back. It would be a matter of ambiguity.
The war was no longer one I could identify. I could rest my belief in the American soldier, but was unable to state conclusively that we, as soldiers, were supported by the American people. The national leaders I served had been compromised for their stand on the war and the policy I supported was being condemned from within the government itself. The outright pessimism expressed in our news media and the continuing news of widespread defeats created a picture of utter hopelessness in our efforts. The cruelest blow was the open support for the Vietcong and their cause that I saw and heard coming from within my country. I refused to believe all of the reports that were given me, but there was no way I could deny the existence of an antiwar, anti-Administration movement that hadn’t existed in 1963. The most frightening thought was that all it would take would be a new Administration to reverse our stand on Vietnam and I would have spent over four years in this stinking prison for nothing. Three men would have starved to death for nothing and Rocky Versace would have chosen death by execution rather than betray a cause that could be suddenly repudiated by people who had never been here, probably would never come, and knew little or nothing about the true nature of the enemy we opposed.
I considered the moral issue involved, questioning the validity of war at all in the perspective of man’s inhumanity to man. There is no moral basis for war. Wars are fought to establish one man’s superiority over another or one people’s dominance over another; more specifically, one government’s superiority over another. War is a function of expediency and policy, not morality. The responsibility of morality must be shared by both sides, and if it is-equally shared, then the basis for conducting the war is eliminated and peace will prevail until the next policy impasse is reached.
Here, the question of morality was raised by those whose goal was world domination. All morality was ignored, except when their code of morality contributed to furthering the cause of revolution. The only answer offered, according to this doctrine was submission to its control, since its followers were pledged to war until their goal had been attained. If I questioned the moral issue in war, which is inherently immoral, then acceptance of their solution was the only means of establishing morality—morality through surrender.
In early January, I noted in my diary: “6/1/68,…Loss of sleep affecting strength, disposition, morale. Now working on mental buck-up before trouble sets in. Can’t fight on multiple fronts—political is enough; add fatigue, strong homesickness, extreme tiredness of POW life plus the chance of health breakdown and the picture is not bright. Tonite the buck-up begins, tomorrow a new day, a new, brighter outlook.”
I turned to prayer when my resources had been exhausted. My relation with my God was such that I’d try until I felt I could go no further or I was in need of special guidance. I didn’t want to call on Him at every turn, and even though I asked for His guidance in all my actions, there were days of special need. Perhaps it was my acceptance of His presence and the predetermined path on which I walked that gave me the greatest comfort. I received comfort when none was indicated by my conditions, none was provided by the material surroundings. The quiet, inner calm which would settle over me was not a function of this earthly environment.
At least they died believing the American people supported the cause for which we were going through this hell; believing that someday their deaths would have gone toward accomplishing something worthwhile, even though they wouldn’t be here to see the realization of our dreams. Perhaps while we were living, the mundane aspects of our daily existence blanked out any higher aspirations, but the approach of death makes a man want to have died for something, not to have squandered his life.
I had never really considered the political aspects of a war in the past, since I, as a member of our military, was bound by the traditional separation of military and political in our system. I had learned and trained in the methods of conducting warfare as the right arm of foreign policy without questioning the political issues involved. Yet here I was forced by my enemy to question the ethics and policies of my own government. I, like the rest of the American POW’s, was ill prepared for the political warfare involved in an ideological struggle.
My philosophy became: “Don’t make a wave unless it is big enough to drown someone.”
Anticipation of pain or irritation is far more devastating than the pain itself.
I noted in my diary, “I find myself leaning toward the chance to go home—even at this late date—definitely creates a mental receptivity which was absent before—the uncertain status (life-death) here—result of increased air strikes, plain rice, illness, etc. is clashing violently in my mind with the chance to once again be free. The mental pressure which has been building over the past 3–4 months is a definite reality and problem—the band around my brain is under strain although locals will never know how close to popping my cork I have been at times—only the firewood, the trees, the fish nets, the animals know—forced myself to repair nets I tore—slow delicate, tedious work—good therapy.”
Listen, my friend, though I know you not we are brothers, for we both are men and as a brother I give this advice: I have entered and I have returned. If enter you must and enter you will, then remember these thoughts: Know who you are and from whence you came; Remember the light and the sun’s cleansing warmth; Mark well the spot at which you entered and mark each spot at which you stop; Remember your Faith and keep it strong; Do not expect to find a path and be prepared to make your own; When it is day you must travel far, but when it is dark, then rest and remember; Conquer the urge to panic and run, for they insure you’ll never return; When daylight comes, then rest not long and quickly seek your way or you, like the leaves will also decay. For night falls early in the forest and darkness blinds you, hides the way.
My position was weakened by the clawing apprehension in the back of my mind that my government would reverse its stand and leave me clinging to a betrayed loyalty and dedication. In the following days I resolved the issue in my mind. My major premise that the will of the Vietnamese people should decide the question of just and unjust cause remained firm. It was their country and self-determination belonged to them. Peace, liberty and independence were their aspirations and the issue became one of how they could best achieve those goals. The Communist-controlled revolution was on one side and the recognized government of South Vietnam on the other. My exposure to the rhetoric of Marx and Lenin while observing the indoctrination of the guards left no doubt about the political allegiance of the Vietcong.
“The world is not interested in the storms you encountered, but did you bring the ship in.”
I wrote this poem in Nam Can Region in 1964 when the attacks of dysentery were severe and a fungus infection had set in. I dreamed it one night, woke up, and wrote it down. I believed it:
When all outside and round about,
is crushing, pushing, crowding down;
The air itself is filthy, dirty,
the outer shell corrupt, unclean.
From deep within, a voice rings through:
“Be calm, be still and carry on;
For I am untouched by all mundane,
and so forever shall I be.
For I am God’s and thy shell is God’s;
Together, we form thee;
Thy shell is clay and will be dust,
but I am all eternal.
You and I, we travel far; through birth and life,
through mortal death and life hereafter;
What happens now, in time will pass,
and memory, like your shell itself, cannot last.
So look up ahead at times to come,
despair is not for us;
We have a world and more to see,
while this remains behind.
He stood as others dream to stand; He spoke as others dared not even think; From soul deep faith, he drew his courage, his granite spirit, his ironclad will. The Alien force, applied with hate, could not break him, failed to bend him; Though solitary imprisonment gave him no friends, he drew upon his inner self to create a force so strong that those who sought to destroy his will, met an army his to command. Phrases of his I shall not forget, spoken sincerely, filled with truth: All I wish is to return to family, home and those I love; For I am young and life is dear, but to bargain for this life of mine when the price you ask requires of me to verify a lie and sell my honor short, makes clear the choice between the two; a life with honor, a life without; With me, you see, life without honor is no life at all, so I will not comply with what you require and choose to suffer whatever may come. This is my answer at this time, this is my answer in times to come; I only pray that I shall not weaken, for I am right and with God’s help, I will have strength to resist whatever means you use while attempting to fulfill your evil scheme.
Thus his fate was surely sealed, for such a man, standing firm defeated them on their own ground and for him to live and tell of this was a thing that could not be. I saw him not the day he died, for, I imagine, as he lived alone, so they arranged for him to die alone; But in my mind there is no doubt, as he stood while he was alive, Duty bound, Honor bound, Unswerving in allegiance, so he stood the day he died … a Rock.”
It was a case of knowing what I was against, but failing to define clearly what I was for.
In this situation, the VC were exploiting the weaknesses of individuals who are unsure of many things except their desire to remain alive. In depriving them of any interrelationship or interdependence, the cadre could work on individual anxieties and attack the loyalties which the man had formed under different circumstances. Over a period of time, loyalties, if not deeply rooted and well formed, can be eroded. Without unity, there is no method of maintaining the validity of one’s beliefs while the cadre works to destroy them.
From a physical standpoint he could have whipped the problem, but it was psychological as well and the brief contact with Tim Barker had provided Dave with his answer to escaping the oppressive environment.
I spent long nights after that analyzing my thoughts and reactions. I had felt bitterness and hatred building, feeding off the constant frustrations and anxiety. I could destroy myself if I allowed negative emotions to dominate my thinking, and partially from a strong sense of self-preservation, partially from a sense of responsibility to the other men, because I could offer them no solutions if I could find none for myself, I turned to the one positive force our captors could never challenge, God.
I found myself returning to and drawing from that foundation in this situation where I was stripped of all material assets, leaving only the intangibles which form the core of our existence: faith, ethics, morals, beliefs. It had become a test of whatever inner strengths I possessed against the total physical control exercised by my captors. Were I to survive with my spirit intact, I could only turn to faith in the Power I believed to be so far greater than that which imprisoned me. For the first time in my life the words of the Twenty-third Psalm were a source of strength and consolation. From the loss of Dave on, I began to believe: “The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.”
Jim, in deciding to rely on his own resolve, his own inner strength to survive, had found the answer. A man who depended on his own will to live, using whatever our captors provided as an assistance, not a necessity, could surmount the obstacles to survival posed by the environment.
I thought how fortunate I was to have gotten this disease early in captivity, when my body was still strong, and to have learned to accept it. Had I gotten the disease as a new ailment after more than three years as a prisoner, it was doubtful if I could have forced my mind to accept and deal with the pain and the filth. How low I’ve sunk in conditions of living, I thought; or more exactly, conditions of existence, of survival. A sudden drop to this level would be enough to destroy any man’s will to live.
In the hours we spent sitting and talking in the kitchen or the “nha mam,”—the “house of nuoc mam—I remembered an idea I had begun to fashion back in the mangroves as a time-killer and tossed it out for group discussion. It was a plan for a resort, to be built after I got out of the prison camp, and it provided a wonderful topic for all of us to consider. Jimmy was keenly interested, and once his attention turned to the development of the idea, his recovery from the illness became more rapid. He had something he could contemplate and focus his attention on and the mental activity was like a release from our surroundings. John and Dan added their ideas, based on past experience, and the concept grew. It became a composite of all the activities we would want in a resort, all the conveniences and a setting, a perfect location to accentuate what we had created. It was this basic plan that I drew from and expanded to create the “Hacienda del Sol” complete with menus, advertising campaign and staff during the long months that lay ahead of me. It became my vehicle for reaching the outside world, one of the many dreams.
Thoughts after four years Time is infinite and creeps on knees, made stiff with age, so slowly does it crawl; But looking back, the years have flown, each so useless, each a void. Perhaps it is this that makes it so, the painfully slow, yet rapid flight, of many days, none with a face, none with its mark; one like another in long endless procession. What fate is it that holds us so, suspended in this abhorrent void; surrounded close by an alien force, while all around us life flows on. I seek the light that issues forth, from that which I knew and those whom I love; that which now seems like a dream from the past, and forms my greatest hope for the future. With faith and hope, I will survive, determined not to falter, not to die; a promise to myself to stay alive swearing that to oneself, one cannot lie. So, oh infinite time, creep on, creep on; or speed like Mercury, as the wind; for though suspended, imprisoned, bound, my mind reaches out to touch the light. And somewhere in the surrounding dark, the light I seek already glows; perhaps from here ’tis only a glimmer, but at the source, it is sunbright and strong. So span I will the time between, and at time’s end I’ll touch the light; for I have felt the Lord’s strong hand, and with his help, I cannot fail.”
One method I’d discovered to fight the frustration and anxiety was to physically exert myself to the point of near exhaustion by chopping wood, making constructive improvements in and around the kitchen hut, and engaging in any other positive, constructive activity that needed to be done. I made a personal pledge to perform only positive actions and improvements in order to negate the adverse reactions to frustrations. The resulting exhaustion allowed me to drop into periods of deep slumber at night, interrupted only by the itching, irritating lac. In solving one problem, I aggravated another. I wasn’t getting enough calories to support extra activity, and the diarrhea went wild whenever the lower abdominal muscles were strained at all. I was becoming tense and irritable, my temper rising to almost uncontrollable pitch on several occasions. I feared the possibility of total loss of control in the presence of the guards; first, because of the futility of striking out at one of them, and second, because it would give the cadre firm proof that the pressure was, in fact, affecting me and could be exploited to gain what they desired. As long as they were forced to guess about my mental state, they would have to fish for means of influencing me, possibly scrapping an effective method in order to try something new. I had no doubt that over an extended period, they could hit the right combination through trial and error, with their greatest weapon being my inability to remove myself from the tightening vise. Isolation was their key.
A strong voice in my mind was saying, “Screw him! Don’t give him a thing! Take whatever he has to throw at you and if you die trying, you’ll be robbing him of a source. At the same time you’ll be out of this shit.” Another voice said, “Better go ahead and give him what he wants. It’s stupid to put yourself in a worse spot by hard-assing him. Who’ll know if you write out what he wants? Who cares? If you do, it’ll mean you’ll still have a chance to stay alive and go home.” The thoughts clashed and I tried to compromise, realizing I had no intention of dying in this stinking camp. I wasn’t going to give Mafia the line he wanted, but I’d have to give him something to get him off of my back. It would be a matter of ambiguity.
The war was no longer one I could identify. I could rest my belief in the American soldier, but was unable to state conclusively that we, as soldiers, were supported by the American people. The national leaders I served had been compromised for their stand on the war and the policy I supported was being condemned from within the government itself. The outright pessimism expressed in our news media and the continuing news of widespread defeats created a picture of utter hopelessness in our efforts. The cruelest blow was the open support for the Vietcong and their cause that I saw and heard coming from within my country. I refused to believe all of the reports that were given me, but there was no way I could deny the existence of an antiwar, anti-Administration movement that hadn’t existed in 1963. The most frightening thought was that all it would take would be a new Administration to reverse our stand on Vietnam and I would have spent over four years in this stinking prison for nothing. Three men would have starved to death for nothing and Rocky Versace would have chosen death by execution rather than betray a cause that could be suddenly repudiated by people who had never been here, probably would never come, and knew little or nothing about the true nature of the enemy we opposed.
I considered the moral issue involved, questioning the validity of war at all in the perspective of man’s inhumanity to man. There is no moral basis for war. Wars are fought to establish one man’s superiority over another or one people’s dominance over another; more specifically, one government’s superiority over another. War is a function of expediency and policy, not morality. The responsibility of morality must be shared by both sides, and if it is-equally shared, then the basis for conducting the war is eliminated and peace will prevail until the next policy impasse is reached.
Here, the question of morality was raised by those whose goal was world domination. All morality was ignored, except when their code of morality contributed to furthering the cause of revolution. The only answer offered, according to this doctrine was submission to its control, since its followers were pledged to war until their goal had been attained. If I questioned the moral issue in war, which is inherently immoral, then acceptance of their solution was the only means of establishing morality—morality through surrender.
In early January, I noted in my diary: “6/1/68,…Loss of sleep affecting strength, disposition, morale. Now working on mental buck-up before trouble sets in. Can’t fight on multiple fronts—political is enough; add fatigue, strong homesickness, extreme tiredness of POW life plus the chance of health breakdown and the picture is not bright. Tonite the buck-up begins, tomorrow a new day, a new, brighter outlook.”
I turned to prayer when my resources had been exhausted. My relation with my God was such that I’d try until I felt I could go no further or I was in need of special guidance. I didn’t want to call on Him at every turn, and even though I asked for His guidance in all my actions, there were days of special need. Perhaps it was my acceptance of His presence and the predetermined path on which I walked that gave me the greatest comfort. I received comfort when none was indicated by my conditions, none was provided by the material surroundings. The quiet, inner calm which would settle over me was not a function of this earthly environment.
At least they died believing the American people supported the cause for which we were going through this hell; believing that someday their deaths would have gone toward accomplishing something worthwhile, even though they wouldn’t be here to see the realization of our dreams. Perhaps while we were living, the mundane aspects of our daily existence blanked out any higher aspirations, but the approach of death makes a man want to have died for something, not to have squandered his life.
I had never really considered the political aspects of a war in the past, since I, as a member of our military, was bound by the traditional separation of military and political in our system. I had learned and trained in the methods of conducting warfare as the right arm of foreign policy without questioning the political issues involved. Yet here I was forced by my enemy to question the ethics and policies of my own government. I, like the rest of the American POW’s, was ill prepared for the political warfare involved in an ideological struggle.
My philosophy became: “Don’t make a wave unless it is big enough to drown someone.”
Anticipation of pain or irritation is far more devastating than the pain itself.
I noted in my diary, “I find myself leaning toward the chance to go home—even at this late date—definitely creates a mental receptivity which was absent before—the uncertain status (life-death) here—result of increased air strikes, plain rice, illness, etc. is clashing violently in my mind with the chance to once again be free. The mental pressure which has been building over the past 3–4 months is a definite reality and problem—the band around my brain is under strain although locals will never know how close to popping my cork I have been at times—only the firewood, the trees, the fish nets, the animals know—forced myself to repair nets I tore—slow delicate, tedious work—good therapy.”
Listen, my friend, though I know you not we are brothers, for we both are men and as a brother I give this advice: I have entered and I have returned. If enter you must and enter you will, then remember these thoughts: Know who you are and from whence you came; Remember the light and the sun’s cleansing warmth; Mark well the spot at which you entered and mark each spot at which you stop; Remember your Faith and keep it strong; Do not expect to find a path and be prepared to make your own; When it is day you must travel far, but when it is dark, then rest and remember; Conquer the urge to panic and run, for they insure you’ll never return; When daylight comes, then rest not long and quickly seek your way or you, like the leaves will also decay. For night falls early in the forest and darkness blinds you, hides the way.
My position was weakened by the clawing apprehension in the back of my mind that my government would reverse its stand and leave me clinging to a betrayed loyalty and dedication. In the following days I resolved the issue in my mind. My major premise that the will of the Vietnamese people should decide the question of just and unjust cause remained firm. It was their country and self-determination belonged to them. Peace, liberty and independence were their aspirations and the issue became one of how they could best achieve those goals. The Communist-controlled revolution was on one side and the recognized government of South Vietnam on the other. My exposure to the rhetoric of Marx and Lenin while observing the indoctrination of the guards left no doubt about the political allegiance of the Vietcong.
“The world is not interested in the storms you encountered, but did you bring the ship in.”
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 16, 2024
These Vietnam vets are true American heroes. Not just those that were captured and survived, but everyone who dealt with the foreign and domestic enemies at the time. These POWs survived through terrible terrible things which probably haunted them the rest of their lives.
February 16, 2016
A story not so much of human endurance as stubbornness. Captured by the VC, Rowe resolutely refuses to say the things they want him to, and as a result spends five years in hell rather than being released for reasons he never explains. Luckily he doesn't die like some of his comrades, though the privations are truly appalling (as are the stupidity and incidental cruelty of his captors). In spite of all this--and the terrible destruction from the air he witnesses first-hand -- Rowe never loses his faith in warfare and the obvious vileness of the VC perhaps causes him to overlook that their opponents in the South were less than perfect.
A fascinating piece of historical context in the age of Guantanamo.
A fascinating piece of historical context in the age of Guantanamo.
October 26, 2011
This one rivaled Unbroken for me. Though this prisoner-of-war was not "physically" tortured (technically), the mental anguish they put him through was horrifying. And that was added to the deplorable physical conditions they kept him in. I was amazed at how he managed to keep his sanity and sense of reasoning throughout those five years.
I must say, though, that if you're offended by language, this is not the book for you! The author does not censor the language he or other soldiers used, and they swore as much as you'd expect from a bunch of prisoners of war.
I must say, though, that if you're offended by language, this is not the book for you! The author does not censor the language he or other soldiers used, and they swore as much as you'd expect from a bunch of prisoners of war.
August 1, 2012
Although at times a difficult read, both emotionally and just the amount of detail involved, it was also a harrowing account of Rowe's experience as a POW. It's hard to give a memoir of such personal disclosure and detail anything less than 5 stars. This man's courage, honor and determination were amazing.
July 6, 2008
Another great read. LTC Rowe is an American hero. RIP
September 4, 2017
Forget the history books - this is the way that we should learn history, from those who lived it. Anyone who reads this book will never forget it.
July 7, 2017
Astonishing
I rarely give books five star ratings. Many of my reads have gotten 4 stars because they were well written and about subjects that I am interested in.
This book goes beyond being interesting. It is superbly written, much of it in first person. The author takes us back to 1962, he a young Army Officer, Special Forces. It is Vietnam. But this is not an action packed military thriller, nor an analysis of of how, why or should we have been there, though those issues are covered in some respects.
The author was captured deep in South Vietnam's Delta region and kept as a POW for five years. He skillfully takes you along with him on what can only be described as a horrible journey into the innermost region of his being. You will feel the sting of the mosquitoes bite, the itch and burn of skin fungus, the despair of being among people who look upon you as disposable but have to tolerate your presence for their own special agenda.
This is neither an easy nor short read, yet I read it almost straight thru in a couple of days. Even though you know he lived because you are reading his book, you keep expecting him to report his own demise, and he almost does.
Compelling, astounding and probably written to help dispel demons of survival and struggle in impossible circumstances that would drive lesser beings to suicide or madness.
Don't pass this one up!
I rarely give books five star ratings. Many of my reads have gotten 4 stars because they were well written and about subjects that I am interested in.
This book goes beyond being interesting. It is superbly written, much of it in first person. The author takes us back to 1962, he a young Army Officer, Special Forces. It is Vietnam. But this is not an action packed military thriller, nor an analysis of of how, why or should we have been there, though those issues are covered in some respects.
The author was captured deep in South Vietnam's Delta region and kept as a POW for five years. He skillfully takes you along with him on what can only be described as a horrible journey into the innermost region of his being. You will feel the sting of the mosquitoes bite, the itch and burn of skin fungus, the despair of being among people who look upon you as disposable but have to tolerate your presence for their own special agenda.
This is neither an easy nor short read, yet I read it almost straight thru in a couple of days. Even though you know he lived because you are reading his book, you keep expecting him to report his own demise, and he almost does.
Compelling, astounding and probably written to help dispel demons of survival and struggle in impossible circumstances that would drive lesser beings to suicide or madness.
Don't pass this one up!
June 21, 2024
I know very little about what happened during the Vietnam War, other than some Americans were absolutely horrible to those who served, and I've heard of the Hanoi Hilton, of course. This book was eye-opening to say the least. I ended up pausing my reading for awhile, so I could go online and do a quick study of the basics of the war, because I realized just how much I didn't know.
I could be wrong, but I feel like the author purposefully kept out the worst of the details of any physical torture that he was subjected to - perhaps because, as he said near the end of the book, "there was the consideration of the families of the men still over there who would be watching for what I had to say..." He did, however, go into a lot of detail about the indoctrination classes that the POW's were forced to take, with the understanding that when they learned the "truth" and corrected their attitudes, they would be allowed to go home. Rowe would do his best to write down something that would be acceptable to his captors, but at the same time, not going against what he truly believed in.
Reading this book has me very interested in continuing my education of the Vietnam War era. I highly recommend this book.
I could be wrong, but I feel like the author purposefully kept out the worst of the details of any physical torture that he was subjected to - perhaps because, as he said near the end of the book, "there was the consideration of the families of the men still over there who would be watching for what I had to say..." He did, however, go into a lot of detail about the indoctrination classes that the POW's were forced to take, with the understanding that when they learned the "truth" and corrected their attitudes, they would be allowed to go home. Rowe would do his best to write down something that would be acceptable to his captors, but at the same time, not going against what he truly believed in.
Reading this book has me very interested in continuing my education of the Vietnam War era. I highly recommend this book.
September 6, 2021
Incredible Book!!
Where to begin…
I was deeply moved and saddened at the suffering Nick Rowe and his fellow POWs suffered. They endured so much physically, mentally, emotionally and psychologically. Daily
indoctrination from their VC captors that lasted for hours with questions to answer in writing. Who can do all that mental work while being broken down physically with starvation, malnutrition and illness? They were doing a balancing act to say the right words without betraying themselves or their country. This went on for years. Nick was a prisoner longer than his buddies-three were eventually deceased and three others released.
Nick remained alone and had so many struggles it’s beyond comprehension that he could continue on.
FINALLY, after 5 years, our Lt Rowe was MIRACULOUSLY discovered and saved!! Hallelujah!! I was so filled with joy for him that I laughed out loud and smiled from ear to ear at his recovery and until the end of the book!! WOW!! He made it home!! Joy! Joy! Joy!
I was deeply saddened though as I looked further into his life and discovered he was assassinated in 2009 by communist rebels in the Philippines. He was 51 years old.
pamarella
PRCS
Where to begin…
I was deeply moved and saddened at the suffering Nick Rowe and his fellow POWs suffered. They endured so much physically, mentally, emotionally and psychologically. Daily
indoctrination from their VC captors that lasted for hours with questions to answer in writing. Who can do all that mental work while being broken down physically with starvation, malnutrition and illness? They were doing a balancing act to say the right words without betraying themselves or their country. This went on for years. Nick was a prisoner longer than his buddies-three were eventually deceased and three others released.
Nick remained alone and had so many struggles it’s beyond comprehension that he could continue on.
FINALLY, after 5 years, our Lt Rowe was MIRACULOUSLY discovered and saved!! Hallelujah!! I was so filled with joy for him that I laughed out loud and smiled from ear to ear at his recovery and until the end of the book!! WOW!! He made it home!! Joy! Joy! Joy!
I was deeply saddened though as I looked further into his life and discovered he was assassinated in 2009 by communist rebels in the Philippines. He was 51 years old.
pamarella
PRCS
October 11, 2020
When Green Beret Lieutenant James N. Rowe was captured in 1963 in Vietnam, his life became more than a matter of staying alive.
In a Vietcong POW camp, Rowe endured beri-beri, dysentery, and tropical fungus diseases. He suffered grueling psychological and physical torment. He experienced the loneliness and frustration of watching his friends die. And he struggled every day to maintain faith in himself as a soldier and in his country as it appeared to be turning against him.
A quick read, this personal narrative is clear and unashamed of the brutal realities experienced by POWs in Vietnam. It makes one consider what they might do if confronted with circumstances of confinement or helplessness.
James “Nick” Rowe eventually escaped, and was instrumental in developing the modern Army Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape (SERE) school. His concepts of philosophical stoicism, faith, resistance, endurance are worthy of consideration and understanding, and this narrative is useful in understanding his motivations and development of concepts.
In a Vietcong POW camp, Rowe endured beri-beri, dysentery, and tropical fungus diseases. He suffered grueling psychological and physical torment. He experienced the loneliness and frustration of watching his friends die. And he struggled every day to maintain faith in himself as a soldier and in his country as it appeared to be turning against him.
A quick read, this personal narrative is clear and unashamed of the brutal realities experienced by POWs in Vietnam. It makes one consider what they might do if confronted with circumstances of confinement or helplessness.
James “Nick” Rowe eventually escaped, and was instrumental in developing the modern Army Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape (SERE) school. His concepts of philosophical stoicism, faith, resistance, endurance are worthy of consideration and understanding, and this narrative is useful in understanding his motivations and development of concepts.
May 16, 2024
I really enjoyed "Five Years to Freedom" by James N. Rowe. The book assumes the reader has some understanding of the Vietnam War and the political ideals, however shifting they may have been, at that time. Rowe, a captured POW, shares his harrowing five-year experience with raw honesty and without any frills or indulgence.
He details his capture by the Viet Cong, the brutal conditions he endured, and his incredible resilience and resourcefulness. Rowe's narrative is straightforward and gripping, providing a vivid account of what life was like in captivity. His ability to survive for five years under such extreme conditions is truly remarkable.
The book is a quick read, taking only 2-3 hours, but it's worth every minute. I highly recommend it to any history or military buff.
He details his capture by the Viet Cong, the brutal conditions he endured, and his incredible resilience and resourcefulness. Rowe's narrative is straightforward and gripping, providing a vivid account of what life was like in captivity. His ability to survive for five years under such extreme conditions is truly remarkable.
The book is a quick read, taking only 2-3 hours, but it's worth every minute. I highly recommend it to any history or military buff.
September 26, 2017
This was a book that made me realize how much a human can go through physically, mentally, and emotionally. Captured by the Vietnamese in 1963, this solider was a POW for 5yrs. Even thought they never physically beat him, they would take away cloths, food, or his mosquito net as punishment. He spent 5yrs having dystentary and a fungus that covered him from neck to foot and made his fingernails and toenails fall off. He was severely malnourished, living on a diet of rice and salt with very little fish. He often would get beri beri. I could not of dealt with that myself and probably would of died of infection. Really, really good book!
August 10, 2023
Wow, what an amazing read, firstly James' story is just incredible, and his strength of character is such an inspiration. Usually, these types of personal accounts don’t read too well, however I found this book to be superbly written. The use of language is very descriptive, which makes the narrative come alive. This account is captivating throughout, I couldn’t put it down. My only criticism would be that it ends quite abruptly, was left want to know more of his life after being a POW and what happened to the other POW's. This being said, it doesn’t spoil the book and I couldn’t recommend this more highly.
June 27, 2017
I honestly don't know what to say after reading this book. If you want a glimpse of the sacrifice some have paid for us, give this a read. If you want some perspective on what is really important, give this a read. Not only was it interesting and enlightening to read how some POWs were treated (not really a surprise, but the details and repercussions of his treatment really make an impact), but his recall of what was running through his mind during his time in captivity and the perspective he offered are amazing.
July 5, 2017
This book changed my life. It's been years since I read it, but Nick Rowe remains one of my heroes. This man and his actions demonstrate what a man who will not sacrifice himself, who retains his essential rights under the hardest conditions, can accomplish. I was fortunate enough to meet Nick Rowe at Fort Bragg, NC many years after his time as a POW and to hear him tell a bit of his story in his own words. Colonel Rowe was a man of great humility, great vision and great bravery. I strongly recommend this book.
November 13, 2025
Resilience
I met COL Rowe in 1985, when I was a junior at McAllen High School and a member of the JROTC Rowe’s Rifles Armed Drill Team. I had read “Five Years to Freedom” and knew of the Colonel’s current assignment. I didn’t know what to expect from the author of the book that had introduced me to the Vietnam War literature, and was honestly impressed by how warm, friendly, and kind this warrior was. It was obvious that his reliance on God and the thoughts of his family had allowed him to retain his humanity intact through those long five years.
I met COL Rowe in 1985, when I was a junior at McAllen High School and a member of the JROTC Rowe’s Rifles Armed Drill Team. I had read “Five Years to Freedom” and knew of the Colonel’s current assignment. I didn’t know what to expect from the author of the book that had introduced me to the Vietnam War literature, and was honestly impressed by how warm, friendly, and kind this warrior was. It was obvious that his reliance on God and the thoughts of his family had allowed him to retain his humanity intact through those long five years.
July 8, 2021
Interesting story about survival during the Vietnam war. It could have been significantly shorter than it is. Some of the key points take a long time to reach and made it difficult to follow the story. There were points that I had to reach back to previous sections to remind me of the context that was being referenced.
Overall, a good read if you have nothing else you are interested in at the time.
Overall, a good read if you have nothing else you are interested in at the time.
August 16, 2021
One of the best POW memoirs ever written!!
I am a big fan of military memoirs and especially the trials and tribulations faced by POWs .This is a brilliant recap of the struggles and hardships faced by Rowe. A true testament to the strengths, both mental and physical that humans can endure. Please read this book. You will not regret it .Thank you Major Rowe.You are an inspiration!
I am a big fan of military memoirs and especially the trials and tribulations faced by POWs .This is a brilliant recap of the struggles and hardships faced by Rowe. A true testament to the strengths, both mental and physical that humans can endure. Please read this book. You will not regret it .Thank you Major Rowe.You are an inspiration!
July 23, 2024
I enjoy listening to war stories just because I can listen to want they went through but will never truly understand. Any survivor of any war has a story to tell. Some books that I've read and listened to though seem to drag on sometimes. This one was short and to the point. The feeling I had at the ending was still the same after a 10 or 15 hour long book. This book was recommended to me by a friend and I would recommend it to others.
May 19, 2017
Very inspiring tale of a US Marine Lieutenant who was captured by the Viet Cong in 1963, and, after several unsuccessful attempts, manages to escape in 1968. His feelings as he resists the attempts to brain wash him, and as he sees fellow prisoners being released or dying are all told in extremely moving detail.
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