Some of the Bravest People

SOME of the bravest people I have ever met," President Nixon called the families of the captured and the missing. "When others called on us to settle on any terms, you had the courage to stand for the right kind of peace. Nothing means more to me at this moment than the fact that your long vigil is coming to an end."

In Azusa, Calif., Patty Hardy said quietly, "Saturday is my day of reckoning." The wife and daughters of Air Force Captain John Hardy waited, like the families of 1,925 other men held prisoner or missing in the Viet Nam War, for word about her missing husband. The families knew that the North Vietnamese were to hand over a complete list in Paris last Saturday, and so in confusion and fear they pinned their nervous hopes to that day.

All the families have a casualty assistance officer assigned to them. Patty Hardy has told hers: "If Jack's name is not on the list, please don't send someone out to tell me. Just call. Every military wife dreads that moment when the official car pulls up outside the house.

For me it was a blue car which arrived with the news he was shot down [Oct. 12, 1967]. I don't want to go through that again!"

There is no fixed timetable for the return of the prisoners yet. It is possible they might begin arriving this week in groups of perhaps 100 to 150 at a time, and then again at intervals of about two weeks. Hanoi will be the main evacuation station for the 476 men known to be prisoners in North Viet Nam. From there, huge C-141 transport planes will fly the P.O.W.s to Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines. According to the procedures of "Operation Homecoming," the men will be treated at Clark if immediate attention is required. Medics, psychiatrists and even tailors (who will outfit the men in new uniforms) are all standing by. From Clark, the men will be brought directly to Travis Air Force Base in California and then flown to the military hospital nearest their families.

Until the moment they hear the phone ring, the families must wait. "It isn't like waiting for Christmas, when you know it will come on Dec. 25," says Joan Abbott of Alloway, N.J. "We have no deadline."

But Mrs. Abbott, who has raised her seven children alone for six years, considers herself an optimist. When Joe Abbott was shot down in April of 1967, there was a period of 2 1/2 years of not knowing whether or not he had made it. In November 1969 she first got word that he was a prisoner.

But even before that she believed he was safe. "To tell you how sure I was, I bought a bottle of champagne in October of 1968, I was so sure he would come home again. The bottle is still in the refrigerator."

Andrea Rander, who lives in a suburb of Baltimore with her two children, Lysa, 13, and Page, six, listened with disbelief to the President's message. "Im numb," she said, "just numb. I'm still trying to believe it." Lysa, hearing the President say it had been a long vigil, turned and said to her mother: "It has been a long vigil." Last Saturday, the family got word that Sgt. First Class Donald Rander was alive. They had not heard from him since he was captured on Feb. 1, 1968. His name was on one of the first lists to be released.

Share. For three years Carol North had no information on her husband. Air Force Lieut. Colonel Ken North was shot down Aug. 1, 1966, and the family did not learn he was a prisoner until early 1970. His four daughters, ranging in age from eleven to 17, have completely changed in 6 1/2 years. On Carol North's mind is the realization that the long separation has changed her life, too. "Ken's going to have to do a great deal of adjusting. So are we. I know I'm going to have to learn again to share. I've been the boss here, and I've gotten used to that."

Margaret Lengyel of Boston* is one P.O.W. wife who has no interest in being in charge. "I'm ready to turn it over. The boss is coming home. I don't like having to make all the decisions." Even when Captain Lauren Robert Lengyel was shot down in August 1967, Margaret didn't expect to spend the next 5 1/2 years raising four children by herself. "It is hard to be both Mom and Dad, especially with three boys." She expects Captain Lengyel to be one of the first to arrive home, but she says: "Even if he doesn't come till the last flight, after waiting as long as we have, 60 days is nothing."

* A picture of her hugging her eldest son Joe, 13, appears on this week's cover as one of several scenes summing up the cease-fire week.

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