SAN DIEGO - “I’m going to make this a quick and dirty war story,” said retired Navy Capt. Rodney Knutson peering down at the thousands of eyes staring up at him as he stood on the podium in the center hangar bay aboard the Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Carl Vinson (CVN 70).
He asked for a show of hands from those in the crowd ages 27 and older, and then from those under the age of 27. As hands went up, he saw a glimmer of his past and the brightness of the country’s future.
“I want you all to know that I just got a show of hands from the next leaders of the United States of America,” said Knutson. “I’m proud of the people who have served in the U.S. Navy. It’s not always easy.”
For Knutson, the father-in-law of Vinson’s current commanding officer, Capt. Matthew Thomas, the age 27 holds great significance. During the Vietnam War, Knutson was a 27-year-old Marine seated in the back of an F-4 Phantom II, flying 300 feet above the ground at 550 knots when he began taking on a barrage of bullets. The aircraft exploded to the ground, landing him in seven years of captivity as a prisoner of war.
“I estimate I spent somewhere between 10 and 15 seconds in the parachute before I hit the ground, and my parachute already had bullet holes in it,” said Knutson. “When I landed on the ground, they were shooting at me, and I ran and hid in the bushes, trying to get away from them. I was alone.”
Although unable to recall every detail, Knutson can remember being in an intense shootout with a militiaman and someone else he never saw. He knows that at some point, he ended up unconscious.
“When I woke up, I was laying on my back,” said Knutson. “They were using my own survival knife to cut off my parachute harness and my G-suit.”
As the North Vietnamese soldiers began tying rope around Knutson’s neck and wrists, chaos birthed confusion. The language barrier made it difficult to understand what was being asked of him, but he finally realized that they wanted him to march. They led him to a small village, where he was put in a cell. Eventually, he was thrown into the back of a truck, tied face down and taken to the notorious Hanoi Hilton prison.
Knutson would spend the next 88 months in captivity, with most of the first 24 months spent in solitary confinement.
“I was 27 years old, and I wondered, ‘Will Mom and Dad even know what happened to me?’” said Knutson. “While I was in that prison, I was tortured within an inch of my life. There were times when they wanted me to say something against my country or when they wanted me to speak out against my fellow airmen.”
Knutson gave the North Vietnamese soldiers the basic information required and nothing more, much to their frustration and much to his pain.
“The U.S. code of conduct says you will give your name, rank, serial number and date of birth, and that’s what I would give. And when I did, they would slam me in the back of the head with a rifle’s stock,” said Knutson. “I was chained, I was manacled, I was put in leg irons and I was beaten. I had that happen to me many, many, many times while I was a prisoner there, and each time it happened I had to make a decision. Could I stick with name, rank, serial number and date of birth? That’s what my government has asked me to do. What happens if I can’t?”
Knutson thought of a way to appease his captors. If they asked him where he was from, he would say the United States. If they asked him where in the United States, he would say District One. If they asked what high school he went to, he would say District One High School.
“That was the only defense that I had, but I was bound and determined to try to abide by what my government expected of me,” said Knutson.
That was how life went for Knutson as a POW for 2,673 days. However, in his final months in captivity, he was able to write letters to his family.
“My mother and dad did not know whether I was alive for five and a half years,” said Knutson.
On Jan. 27, 1973, the signing of the Paris Peace Accords ended the war in Vietnam, and on Feb. 12, 1973, Knutson was released with the other prisoners. They were loaded onto buses and then onto C-141 Starlifter jets, with Knutson on the first plane out of Vietnam.
“I sat down beside another prisoner who I knew very well,” said Knutson. “We didn't speak. We just stared straight ahead. I looked down at his hands. His knuckles were curved over the armrest on the seat, and they were white. I looked at my own, and they were the same way.”
As the airplane finally lifted off the ground, the men cheered for the first time.
“Every guy on that airplane unstrapped and jumped out of his seat,” said Knutson. “We weren't any more than 50 feet off of the ground, but we were free. We were headed home. We were going to see our families. We were going to go back to the place that we loved.”
The North Vietnamese had been feeding the prisoners propaganda about riots and demonstrations in the U.S., so they didn’t know what to expect when they landed at Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines. They arrived to a group of people standing and watching, but Knutson wasn’t looking at those people.
“What I saw was right in the front of the crowd,” said Knutson. “There were a bunch of little kids who had American flags. I had not seen a child for seven and a half years. I had tears in my eyes.”
Knutson weighed only 103 pounds and wanted nothing more than a shower. Afterward, he called his parents. He tried to speak but could not find the words to talk to them.
Three days later he was back in the U.S.
Knutson stayed in the military for another 32 years. He became a Navy pilot and retired with 38 years of service.
“I’m proud of it,” said Knutson. “I wasn’t treated as some sort of a rotten animal when I came home from Vietnam. I was treated as a hero. I don’t feel like a hero. I was doing my job.”
Staring out at the crowd of Vinson sailors in front of him, his son-in-law in tow, Knutson told the sailors he could see the same grit in them that he had as a POW.
“I think the Navy does a very good job at trying to expose us to hardships and decision making, and therefore, building up our reliance on our own and depending on ourselves,” said Knutson. “Enjoy it for what it is. Work hard and it makes the time go faster, and you’ll have a good time.”
Knutson’s story was not a quick war story, but rather the long story of a warrior who persevered through unspeakable acts and continues to leave his legacy with the sailors of today. His response to incredible hardship was outstanding perseverance, which is the biggest takeaway for Capt. Thomas when listening to his father-in-law’s story.
“Each time he [Knutson] resisted, each time he kept his honor,” said Thomas, “he returned to his cell and thought, ‘I did it! They didn't win today; they didn't break me.’ Each of us can build up our own strength by winning the little battles each of us face each day. We can go to bed each night and say to ourselves, ‘I did it!’”
Thomas and Knutson urged sailors to celebrate every win, no matter how small it may seem in the moment.
“You all feel like you’re just doing your job, but you are heroes too. I’m proud of every one of you,” said Knutson. “I also know and trust you with my life because I know you will protect me and my country.”
Date Taken: | 10.31.2024 |
Date Posted: | 12.18.2024 03:49 |
Story ID: | 486964 |
Location: | SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA, US |
Web Views: | 97 |
Downloads: | 0 |
This work, A Hero's Salute: USS Carl Vinson (CVN 70) Visited by Vietnam POW/MIA Hero, by PO2 Emily Bennett, identified by DVIDS, must comply with the restrictions shown on https://www.dvidshub.net/about/copyright.