On 22 December 1965, on a combat mission over North Vietnam, I was shot down and captured. I spent Christmas on a concrete floor in a North Vietnamese prison, arms tightly bound behind my back. For eight holiday seasons I enjoyed “the humane and lenient treatment of the North Vietnamese people,” according to the interrogator.
A Hero’s Story at Christmastime: Colonel Roger Ingvalson
“It’s Christmastime, Poppy, and we want a story!” “A story? Why don’t you play with your toys?” “We want a story! We want a story! We want…” “Okay! Okay. A story. All right, then, a story you shall have. What kind of story would you like, my children?” “We want
